It wasn’t working. Steve had read enough books and watched enough TV and movies to know that standing in the rain was meant to be an experience. He was meant to be cleansed and refreshed and have some great realisation once he has come to terms with things. It had been two and a half hours and all he was feeling was cold and wet. Maybe he should’ve been more cynical about it, decided it was just some clichéd dramatic device before the risk of hyperthermia had grown so great he mused as he slowly plodded back towards his house from the end of the garden.
‘So damned silent’ he cursed as he shook his head and contemplated going back in the rain. A sneezing fit overcame him and as he sought something to wipe his snotty hand and face with he decided that a warm bath might be a wiser idea.
Walking to the kitchen side where the kitchen towel stood proudly he pulled some pieces off and cleaned the snot off his hand and face as well as drying his face off generally. Smiling as he caught his reflection, he realised that the contracting of face muscles was the most pathetic lie in the history of existence. His eyes still bore that sullen look no the grin didn’t stop that being blatantly obvious. They were the eyes of a stranger, a traveller who had become weary of the world and wished to find somewhere to rest their troubled bones, seeking comfort one last time before they let life slip from their grasp. Anger welled up within Steve. ‘Don't look at me like that' he spat turning quickly to get away from the reflection and stormed out of the kitchen.
Running up the stairs he made it to the Bathroom quickly. Turning the taps on and waiting for the tub to fill he sat on the tub’s edge. He sighed again, his body lacking the ability to express the tortured mutterings of his soul in any other manner.
‘You have to get a grip of yourself Stevie’ he said lifting his head up to face the ceiling and closing his eyes. His very reflection was haunting him now, before it was just being in the empty and quiet house. Fighting against the silence that was mocking the laughter that filled every room before they left him alone, he couldn't stand the house mocking the memories he had of them he had to make a stand. It was taking its toll, people at work mentioned he seemed down, he laughed it off but this was a war of attrition and the silent empty house was doing significantly better than he was.
With the Steam gathering in the room he got up and turned on the extractor fan. The bath was almost full so he put a tentative finger in to gauge the temperature. It was just right so he stripped out of the sodden clothes that clung to his skin leaving them in a pile in the corner and stepped in. The heat seeped into his body as he lowered more of his frame into the water. At last he lay in only his head above the steaming water and felt relaxed. It was times like this he realised how stupid he was being raging against the silence that filled the house. Christine and Jeff had left they weren’t there to make noise anymore, the silence wasn’t stalking his every step within the house taunting him for being too cowardly to go with them as Christine took up the opportunity to do what she always dreamt of doing.
He had been too cowardly of course. Steve knew that, as did Christine, he loved her dearly and missed her so much it hurt. As did he miss Jeff the five year old son she had. It was obviously a mistake to let them go off and stay behind, he just figured it would be like before they moved in and he’d get back to normal. The hell he was experiencing wasn’t what he expected life to be like when he broke things off with Christine and wished her luck with the future. It was time for Steve to own up to making a mistake and stop the personification of silence into some sort of mischievous spirit that sought to make his life a misery. He didn’t expect his life to seem so bad once they left because he underestimated just how great life was with them.
It was time to put things straight, phone Christine see if he couldn’t make things right again. Filled with a renewed sense of drive and purpose he practically leapt over the side of the bath. Barely pausing to touch the ground before moving his weight forward towards where his towel hanged. He went downwards rather than forwards though as his wet feet slipped on the lino flooring. Startled he gasped as a blob of white swarmed into vision and a loud crack filled the room. He hit the floor with a dull thud but he barely registered it as his world became black and silent. He looked as peaceful as a babe lying on his bathroom floor unconscious as a pool of blood gathered under his fractured skull.
No comments:
Post a Comment