Marlene Rhein

ZZZQUIL FOG

I wake up in a ZZquil fog. Part of me wants to stay asleep in the safe, deep place

of comfort next to my big pit bull and part of me is riled up by the clouds of anxiety that warn of my dwindling money situation and all that needs to be done. I walk out into the living room and there’s my sister, sitting there. I thought she was coming later. I don’t know why I feel so shocked. The Zzquil took me deep. I haven’t had a chance to wake up. To look in the mirror and tell myself I love me. To meditate and get grounded.

“Did you get my text?” she says.  “No, I didn’t turn my phone on yet,” I say.

I go to pour myself some water in the kitchen. My own kitchen which I will give up in 3 weeks when I move in with her. Every minute here is a reminder that this is the last time I’ll live by myself, in my own one bedroom by the water, for a long time.

I look at my bottle of anti-depressants.

I wish I woke up earlier and went to the gym.

“You had a job interview?” she asks.  “You spoke to Dad?” I say. She nods.

“No, I lied to him. To get him off my back,” I say.

She looks anxious. I walk back into the living room with my glass of water.

I plug my phone in. I don’t want to turn it off airplane mode yet. I’m not ready for the world.

She says, “I’m worried you’re not going to be able to pay me rent.”

My insides contract. Strands of bleach blonde hair fall out of her unkept ponytail, the whole thing about to unravel. Her coffee-stained t-shirt under MY wool cardigan which she borrowed and never gave back. She stains everything, ever since she was a little kid. My keto-obsessed, skinny sister who lost weight but is nonetheless the same four-eyed, frazzle-haired, unpopular girl no one wants to hang out with, with a permanent, lost-in-space facial expression. I hate her right now. This is a moment I need assurance. I need encouragement. I need support. And I never and will never get that from her because her limited mind cannot comprehend me. She is Lennie from “Of Mice and Men” and I have to be the world’s best actress and pretend that she is normal and I like her so that I don’t hurt her feelings even when she is hurting mine and insulting everything I have worked so hard for my whole life. The glass of water on the coffee table sits like an invitation to drown myself in it. The half-smoked joint a reminder that there is no escape.

I’m the same small powerless little girl being criticized by my father for being bad with money.

My living room, my meditation sanctum, now a prison of negativity.

“Luigi, come here! Look who’s here!” I shout to my senior citizen dog, still asleep in my bed. He comes prancing out, half of his jowly face smushed like an old man who forgot to put his dentures in, and attacks my sister with kisses. He loves her. At least there’s someone.

Marlene Rhein attended Ithaca College on a Rod Serling Screenwriting Scholarship and has since directed a long list of hip hop videos, including 2Pac’s last and Amy Winehouse’s funniest. She directed and co-starred in her first feature, “The Big Shot-Caller,” which was theatrically released in 2009, reviewed by the New York Times and acclaimed by critic Kam Williams, who called it “an appealing little gem of an indie which marks the impressive debut of Marlene Rhein as a writer, director and actor.” Marlene was chosen by Filmmaker Magazine as one of their “Top 25 New Faces of Independent Film.” Marlene has created several dark comedy web series including “My Parents Are Crazier Than Yours,” “Angry Gladys,” and “I Don’t Care About the Assholes, with Dr. Rita Gatswani.” Her latest project is an award-winning web series, “The So-So You Don’t Know,” a dark comedy about urban loneliness. Find her online at https://www.marlenerhein.com.