So lately I've been working on a short story for my Creative Writing class. I just finished it about 3 minutes ago. I thought I'd post it on here and let everyone have at it. :) Just a warning: IT'S LONG. hahaha So if you aren't necessarily in the mood for a long story, then skip on by on your merry way. ><
Seventeen Minutes
3:10 pm.
I am currently in the Blissful Kitchen, on an ordinary afternoon in June, making Ampersand and I our mid-day snack that we have at exactly 3:14 pm. I made the joke with him once, while he sat attentively on the counter, that it was “Pi time.” His tail twitched. Ampersand has always exhibited a dry sense of humor.
3:11 pm.
Ampersand’s tuna fish slides from my spoon and makes a sickening plop into his cat bowl. The sunny yellow walls are severed sporadically with shadows from the blinded windows. Black plates and cups sit neatly in the drying rack next to the sink, waiting patiently for me to put them away. A bright red clock ticks behind me on the wall. My old radio sits on the counter next to me. A forgotten love song sifts through the speakers and flows around me. I tap my feet on the black and white tiled floor and begin to dance.
Humming along with the chorus and swaying my hips, I am lost in Henry’s arms. He would always protest to my request to dance, but I’d persist. He’d give in after a while and I’d laugh freely. What kept me in his embrace long after the song ended was his Small Smile. It was a special gift just for me. He never smiled otherwise. Or so he told me.
3:13pm.
The present comes crashing back when I hear the floorboards creak above me. I let out a sigh and put down the spoon in my hand. The ceiling lets out several groans, creaks, and moans.
“Ampersand! Mommy has your food.”
Ampersand makes the floorboards creak again as he responds to my voice. Maybe I should cut back on our “Pi Time” portions. Ampersand’s reaping the rewards of a doting mother. He’s getting fat.
I hear him meow pitifully.
“Oh, come on! It’s your own fault you eat so much.” I wipe my hands on my purple apron, leave the Blissful Kitchen, and step into the Pristine Dining Room. One off-white wall is dominated by an ornate silver mirror. A pleasant fireplace is at the opposite end of the room, only for show. A lovely simplistic chandelier hangs over the mahogany table. Whenever Ampersand and I had guests come for dinner, we’d sit at this table. Ampersand used to meander throughout the forest of legs during dinner. They found him rather annoying. Ampersand and I thought them rather bothersome. Mindless conversation ping ponged between me and the others. Henry and I, on the other hand, had enthralling discussions without even opening our mouths. Of course, our nonverbal communication only occurred after attending many dinner parties together. After the other guests left one night, I still heard the occasional silverware clink against china. Henry never heard it. I asked Ampersand if he ever heard the clinking, but he just meowed. Henry just changed the subject, more often than not, to his growing business. Then he’d comment on the splotches of color on the wood table. He always found them so irritating. But he’d notice my hurt expression and then reach for my hands.
I let him hold my small hands in his. I love how his hands swallowed mine in his. He often swallowed me whole. In his eyes, his whispers, his dreams. I thought that was love.
3:14 pm.
Ampersand’s cries continue to echo throughout the house, breaking my reverie. In order to get to him, I have to walk across the Oppressive Living Room, up the flight of stairs, past the Skylight Bathroom, past My Lonely Bedroom, down the Creaky Floorboard hallway, and to the Green Room.
Oh, how I loathe the Oppressive Living Room. Rich red walls surround the cozy furniture, alluding to comfort and protection. At the beginning, Henry brought this room alive. I would breathe with him and the walls. We all collectively gasped when Henry kissed me for the first time.
“You just kissed me.”
“And you just stopped me. Let me continue?”
I nodded.
And that was when I officially fell in love with him.
That was also when the room died. I died, too, shortly thereafter.
3:15 pm.
Dust covered memories are scattered about on the couch, rug, chair, and bookcase. I’ve left the horrid recollections alone in hopes that they’ll disappear, but this only seems to encourage them in their attempts to haunt me. Blood is rushing through my ears as I take my first step into the room. I make my second step and then a third. I keep my eyes focused on the stairs ahead of me, not the couch where Henry held me close, like so many times before. Not the rug that came rushing up to meet me when Henry shoved me to the floor. Not the chair I hastily grabbed onto in an attempt to pull myself up. Not the bookcase that held the titles of novels I memorized while Henry pinned me underneath him.
3:16 pm.
Halfway across the room, I stop midstride and face my fears. The scene unfolds in my mind as it happened all those nights ago. I am forever thankful for Henry’s slip in attention. While I was underneath him, his hands clamped down on my mouth when I first screamed. His eyes glowed with fire and his hands were just as hot. Ampersand ran down the stairs from the Skylight Bathroom and into the Oppressive Living Room. The sound of Ampersand’s paws on the rickety stairs made Henry hesitate for just a moment. I got a hand free and swung it hard into his ear. Henry howled in pain and, for a brief moment, forgot about me beneath him. I shoved him off with all my might. Crawling to Ampersand, I gathered him in my arms and sprinted up the stairs for the Skylight Bathroom. Henry was right behind me, breathing heavily. Our pounding feet echoed in the stairwell, making my ears ring. I reached the bathroom just in time. Henry slammed into the locked door and swore. He left.
I wondered for a while how I could have not seen it coming. Not connected the dots: Henry’s charm; his attention to detail; his small annoyances; his temper. But time has a funny way of passing on, just like I did. I passed on and time took me away.
3:17 pm.
As I sat in the Skylight Bathroom that night, my mind was frenzied, while my body was frozen on the floor. I hate that he used me. I hate that he lured me in and made me feel safe. I love that he took his time in gaining my trust. I love that he had the patience to obtain my adoration. I hate that I loved him.
3:18 pm.
“Ampersand? Where are you?”
I hear his feeble reply as I reach the top of the stairs. The Skylight Bathroom is directly to my left and I can still smell the remnants of my shower that morning. Jasmine and raspberry. I glance into the bathroom and don’t see Ampersand sprawled over the sink. I pull aside the cream shower curtain and see he isn’t in the tub, either. I linger a moment and remember the night Henry attacked. Ampersand slept with me in the tub that night. We didn’t leave the bathroom. Instead we watched the stars shine in the black sky through the skylight.
3:19 pm.
Counting today, it’s been five months and sixteen days since that night.
Five months and sixteen days since he stopped coming to the house. Five months and sixteen days since I relearned how to live on my own. The front door remained locked until one month and five days ago. I’m safe. I’m happy.
My Lonely Bedroom is right across the Creaky Floorboard hallway. I hesitantly push open the door. The door’s white paint is peeling a bit and whines in protest as I swing it open. Ampersand’s bright orange fur is nowhere to be seen. He would easily be found against the white walls, white bedspread, and dark hardwood floors. Stepping more fully into the room, I breathe in the quiet. While it is lonely, it is my space. It is my refuge. The silence fills me to the core and I feel at peace.
3:20 pm.
Ampersand meows directly behind me. Startled at the sudden break in solitude, I gasp. My worries melt away when Ampersand rubs his body against my legs. I kneel down next to him and hug him close. He purrs deeply and I sigh. He is my best friend.
“What’d you find, Ampers? Did you kill a mouse?”
He doesn’t reply and leads me down the remainder of the Creaky Floorboard hallway to the Green Room. The Green Room is rarely used, for it’s a guest bedroom. Ampersand and I don’t normally have visitors.
3:21 pm.
Wiping my hands on my apron, I glance down questioningly at Ampersand. He rubs his body against the door and meows.
“Let me get the door for you, Highness.”
I hear his breathing as I open the door. Fear filters from my heart out to my fingertips and toes. But I don’t run back down the stairs. Something makes me stay. Courage, perhaps?
He’s here.
He came back.
Henry stands before me, his chest heaving. He releases his breath slowly and takes a step toward me. I remain transfixed in his stare as I bend down slowly to pick up Ampersand.
His smile broadens and he leaps at me. We crash to the floor and Ampersand scatters. I struggle beneath Henry for a bit as he begins untying my purple apron. His hands are rough and callused. I grunt as I bring my knee up hard to his crotch.
He gasps between curses.
I crawl frantically to the far side of the room, toward the open window. Grasping onto the windowsill, I pull myself up, and gaze out the window. A fresh summer breeze coats my sweat covered face.
Henry roars behind me. I turn toward him with a renewed strength and fire burning in my eyes. I stand firm. His face is red with rage and veins bulge at his temple. Enmity pours off of him in waves as he runs toward me. I gasp at his weight when he collides with me against the wall. His face is just inches from mine and I can smell beer and stale cigarettes. Looking into his watery grey eyes I remember when they held only solace and mystery.
Almost a caress, his hands close around my neck. I try to break away, but his hold is unyielding. His thumbs rub the sides of my throat, slowly. My skin underneath his fingers raises goose bumps. I hate how I still respond to his touch after all this time. I hate all the nights I laid awake in bed, wondering if he was thinking about me and how I thought myself pathetic for wanting him to. I hate all the mornings I woke up without him next to me and then happy he wasn’t there. I hate how even now I wish he was holding me tenderly. Not as prey.
He brings his head farther down to my face and licks his lips before kissing me. I scream into his mouth and he pulls away immediately. His eyes are stormy. I stare back with revulsion and then spit into his face. He growls and begins squeezing my neck. I fight for breath, gasping and choking. Henry sees how weak I am and smiles triumphantly. It’s his Small Smile. Then he flings me onto the guest bed.
Henry stalks toward me as I cough and rub my throat. His body is blurred at the edges from my tears. He’s at the bed now. I close my eyes and feel the bed shift with his weight. No, no, please.
“Ampersand!” I yell out hoarsely.
3:23 pm.
I hear glass shatter on the hardwood floor as Ampersand leaps from the top of the dresser at the foot of the bed. A vase of white daises used to adorn the dresser; now the broken vase lays empty, water and flowers strewn about mournfully. I keep my eyes focused on the flowers and imagine a field. I pant determinedly as Henry rises above me on the bed and leans down on top of me.
Suddenly, Ampersand is attached to the back of Henry’s neck. Henry rears back and stumbles away from the bed. His frenzied movements bring him to the window as he continues to grapple with the cat. I rise slowly from the bed and maneuver myself behind Henry. He doesn’t notice me. When Henry rips Ampersand off his face and throws him across the room, I remain still. I hear Ampersand’s body land in a heap on the bed.
Overcome with unspeakable anger, I shove Henry toward the window. He falters. I shove him once more, harder. He’s trapped between me and the wall. Adrenaline surges through me as I punch him in the mouth. He pleads for me to stop. I don’t. My fists pummel his right eye and nose. Blood begins to coat my knuckles. Henry’s blood. I love the contrast of bright red against my bruised skin. I continue slamming into his chest and stomach, hungry for more.
“Alice, please! I’m sorry!”
3:24 pm.
He falls out the window.
I’m too late. Henry lands in a crumpled mass on the green grass below. An arm is folded in an impossible angle behind his back. He doesn’t move. Would he have killed me?
I feel dead.
Birds are chirping in the green leafy branches of trees in my backyard. Sunlight basks my face and embraces me. The air conditioner rumbles awake and sends out wafts of musty air. Shaken, I slide down to the floor and sob. I feel raw—so completely vulnerable and empty. My red eyes redirect themselves from the floor at my feet to the bed.
“Ampersand?”
I can’t feel my body as I crawl to him. When I reach the bed, the sight of Ampersand catches my breath. He’s so very still.
“Come on, boy. I need you.”
He inhales slightly. A laugh issues from my throat and silent tears slide down my cheeks. I climb on top of the mattress and lay next to my best friend. He turns his head to me and I know he’s smiling. I can see it in his eyes.
3:26 pm.
I am the Green Room’s guest. I am just visiting. Soon, I’ll leave the Green Room and everything will be fine as it was before. It will just be me and Ampersand.
3:27 pm.
