Half a World Away

He staggers up the path to the front door and bellows an incoherent song into the dark silent streets; and she listens to him from their bed. Her body is tense and her mouth is dry from the dread of him bringing home the fighting spirit of the pub. Her mind races with memories of drunken insults, of stings of pain inflicted upon her from the fury of his hand, of bruised skin, of being knocked into unconsciousness.

Shall I pretend I am sleeping? Shall I confront him with the little strength I have left? She thinks.

He ascends the stairs to the top landing where he stops, sways and hiccups; and she observes him through the gap in the door.

I will confront him. I will no longer be afraid of him. I will tell him that I don’t fear him, that I no longer love him. I will tell him I am leaving tomorrow, that it’s over.

He enters the bedroom and switches on the light. She observes his face, his hollow cheeks, his enflamed eyes, and her thoughts and intentions dissipate, and her mouth fails to communicate the words she longs to speak.

He approaches the bed and raises his hand, as he finishes off the violence he began eight hours earlier. She closes her eyes, blanks out the pain and pushes her thoughts away from her sunken life into one that is half a world away.


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10 thoughts on “Half a World Away

  1. thefroglyprince says:

    Very vivid. :/

  2. Eric Alagan says:

    This is terrible – living in fear in one’s own home and of someone who once loved.

    Very well written – you brought out the raw emotions.

    • Thanks Eric 🙂 I’m never too sure what the reader truly thinks or feels over words I’ve put together – and so feedback is always truly appreciated. Happy Spring to you! – let’s hope it brings new inspiration to us.

  3. […] (by alittlebirdtweets) […]

  4. amelthalt says:

    Wow! well written!

  5. hakariconstant says:

    I like this. I see the connections you made with the R.E.M. song with the same title. It makes me think of fan video made for The Fray’s song “We Build Then We Break” made with scenes from the horror tv series American Horror Story, about a guy, who in connection with the song, is presented as some kind of “avenger angel of death” for women who suffer abuse at the hands of men. The lyrics in particular that your story calls to mind are “You’ve been quiet, there are things that you do not speak of / But if you stay gone a little longer your keys won’t work”. Here’s a link to the music video – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Zwxt7v_4sE

    I don’t like a lot of The Fray’s songs, but this song in particular I like, because it has special meaning to me. I am very defensive of my female friends, and the song reminds me of one in particular who was being stalked by her ex a couple years ago. I bought pepper spray for her (and had her practice use it outside, and promise she would use it on him if she was attacked again), as well as a rape whistle, and I fixed the broken lock on her door, and… I daydreamed about knocking him unconscious, and then breaking his limbs and fingers that he used to abuse her, and leaving him propped up against a dumpster like an abandoned piece of broken furniture (I considered logistics, and knew the guy was too hefty for me to be able to put him in it by myself) if the bastard ever showed up at her apartment when I was there, or if she called me if he showed up again. I would probably have done something else I could have gotten away with more easily though, and not something that could get me prison time. I also like the lyrics suggesting water being used as a weapon of vengeance, as Ry, a shortened version of my name, actually means water. lol

    • I think the whole subject of women feeling trapped, women being stalked is very frightening. It sounds like your friend was going through something very disturbing with her ex 😦 You were a good friend for helping to protect her. I hope your friend is now, and he left her alone in the end.

      It does interest me how a mind can turn obsessive over someone or something. Maybe it’s something that simmers in all of us but only turns to boiling point in some. Hmm, it’s a fascinating yet disturbing subject.

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