Written April this year, posted on www.dikt.no.

Friday Nocturnal

Now the tears are making my face wet. They allways make their appearance at this time. The music in my ears barely covers the higher notes of the others. The loud ones. The drunk, angry and dissatisfied ones. The tomorrow regretful ones.

As long as I do not let my presence be known, they will leave me alone. Locked here in my room. The window ledge is tempting me as allways. I make it all the way this time. Opening and letting the wind inside and everything. But a scream of terror interrupts me. He is diciplining her, putting her down 'til she has no will to answer back. I'm allready put down to a level of frightful anxiety. I'm his loyal servant now. Until I find a way out. The breeze forces my escape route shut with a bang. I fear they have heard. That he has heard.

But no.

The twentyeth-something beer is cracked open. The sound which penetrates my deepest insides. Makes my body quiver a while.

It has been quiet for a while now. Maybe they have fallen asleep? My cheeks are dry. I make no sound as I approach the living room. I was right this time. I
blow out the nearly burnt down candle. I turn off the lamps. Make shure the
stove is off. Doors are closed. Shut their bedroom door. They made it all the
way today. In fear of making noice I decide against removing her boots.

Back in my room I lay down in bed. Tuck myself in under the thin, wore out
quilt. The blanket is warm. I hide under the covers, from the cold air in the
room. Money is tight - we must save electricity. Now my pillow is warmed by my
wet tears. I fall asleep. I dream of you.

Short story by Tiffany
Read 1071 times
Written on 2007-05-13 at 16:14

Tags Alchoholic  Depression  Sorrow 

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