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Upstairs (577 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 1.85 on 7 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by rick_the_stud (View user info) at 2006-08-02 22:15:53 EDT


Poorly sliced pieces of lemon and lime adorn the countertop, accompanied by the knife with which they were cut, next to the half-filled blender. A translucent puddle sits precariously near the edge of the counter, waiting for surface tension to rest just long enough to allow it to trickle down the faux granite, along the wooden cabinet and onto the floor. A marbled glass rests on its side, waiting to be refilled.

Up the stairs she plays quietly by herself, making friends with her Barbie dolls.

A steady arc of yellowed water extends over the bathroom floor, landing just inside the lip of the porcelain bowl, splattering ever-so-slightly on the rim and the floor. With a groan the man zips up and stumbles out of the doorway.

She washes her hands and spies the cigarette butts in the trashcan.

A chair is knocked over from behind. It edges forward and seems to pause, perfectly still on its two front legs, for just a moment, before careening forward, splitting the back of it with a loud crack as it lands forcefully on the linoleum.

She has the television on, Nickelodeon to be precise. It's a cartoon, something funny. It makes her giggle.

Another glass splinters into a thousand shards, sliding across the floor, flying over the room, cascading down the wall in semi-solid sheets. Microscopic pieces rain gently down onto the blonde hair of an inebriated woman, cowering in fear, waiting her turn.

She pretends that the sounds are thunder in the distance and she must rock her baby back to sleep.

He brings one hand down, sloppily followed by a second, followed not-so-sloppily by a third. The fourth one feels the weight of his adrenaline and connects, drawing just a trickle of blood from the side of the face so gracefully framed by golden locks.

She brushes her teeth and combs her hair, but no one has told her to get ready for bed.

The fair-haired woman lashes out. She kicks at him from the floor and screams. She reminds him of what a terrible person he is. He does not need to be reminded of the woes of his life; he is all-too-aware of those, so he strikes again.

She puts on her pajamas and lines up her stuffed animals, neatly protecting her at the head of her bed.

He takes a step forward, slightly too large, and leans into his last blow, but it falls short of its intended target. In one fluid motion he collapses into unconsciousness induced by his liver. Now it is her turn. With all the rage of a tantrum she throws herself at his limp figure, kicking him in the side, pounding her fists on him, cursing his very existence, salty streams pouring from her eyes. She collapses into the wall, sobbing into a fetal position, as she cries herself to sleep and oblivion.

She wakes in the pre-dawn light to use the bathroom and creeps halfway down the stairs, just for a peek. Both of them are passed out, but breathing. She scurries up the stairs and buries herself in her blankets and pillows and stuffed animals. There will be no Saturday morning cartoons today. Mommy and Daddy had a late night.

A few hundred miles away, a boy ten years her senior plucks the strings of his lonely guitar in memory of her.


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User Reviews


Submitted by TheCrystalShip (user info) at 2006-08-08 16:26:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

No Comment

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-03 16:53:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Sssss
Aaaaa
Fffff
Eeeee
Ttttt
Yyyyy

SAFETY DANCE

Submitted by ParlorTrick (user info) at 2006-08-03 15:56:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Excellent! Very real, in the moment, descriptive. Leaves me wanting more.

Submitted by mc (user info) at 2006-08-03 13:58:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good read.

Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2006-08-03 13:00:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by ubetidid (user info) at 2006-08-03 12:48:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

very good

Submitted by fun_with_needles (user info) at 2006-08-02 23:41:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

well done


There's an empty spot I've always had inside me. I tried to fill it with
family, religion, community service. But those were all dead ends. I
think this chair is the answer.

-- Homer Simpson
Brother Can You Spare Two Dimes?