A Restless Night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
When he stood still, breathless and silent, the whole world seemed to follow suit. He settled his restless bones onto the couch and thought of his beloved as he gradually sank into a deep sleep.

Submitted: September 05, 2016

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Submitted: September 05, 2016

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*

It was quiet now. And, he was alone.  And as much as he wanted to ignore this fact, he couldn’t escape it. He could only think to go home but once arriving there, he wished he hadn’t.

The entire house seemed to sink beneath the weight of his body; the floorboards seemed to creak like an ailing banshee with each footfall, and the walls seemed to echo recycled silence each time he inhaled. And when he stood still, breathless and silent, the whole world seemed to follow suit.

He settled his restless bones onto the couch and thought of his wife—his beautiful, blushing bride—as he gradually sank into a deep sleep.

He dream’t of her obsidian coils hanging loosely about her shoulders. She stood, pregnant belly press’t against the cool glass of their bedroom window, silently staring out into the backyard as Jordan lay across the bed looking at her.

“I want to breathe in the fall air—” she whispered.

Jordan sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to grab LeAnne’s hand.

She looked down at him, her large brown eyes danced wistfully in the dying light of the setting sun.

“Are you sure? It’s kind of cool out—”

“I’m sure,” she said, smiling subtly. “And this baby—she’s definitely sure.” She rubbed her swollen stomach with her cool palms. “She can’t wait to get out into that air.”

Jordan stood and put his warm hands atop hers.

“Wow, she’s kicking hard, isn’t she? Let me get my shoes on.”

Jordan stepped out and for the longest while, it seemed, he could not find his shoes. Once he had decided to abandon his pursuit, he found them tucked away in a corner.

He put the shoes under his arm and carried them to the bedroom with the intention of apologizing for the long wait and complaining about how the shoes had been right in his face the entire time.

But, he never got the chance… His dust-coloured sneakers escaped his firm grip and dropped to the taupe carpet.

The glowing mother of his child was now crudely bent, with one hand pressed against the window and the other tucked firmly underneath her round belly.

She gasped his name, only once, and helplessly reached out to him. But, what could he do?

He—he had only been gone five-minutes. Maybe less. How could this have transpired so quickly?

He could save her—She could live. If only he could reach her… He remembered his courage and hurried towards his beloved—

In a fit of hot rage, Jordan awakened from his slumber, sweating profusely and gasping for air.

He looked around, frantically, helplessly searching for his wife’s face in the thick darkness before realizing that he had been asleep and it was all just a dream. The sick realization that he could do nothing at all to help her crept into the pit of his soul and made his stomach quiver with disgust.

He thought of her large brown eyes, squinted, and of her thin fingers bent and clawing at the window as she whimpered in agonizing pain. Blood trickled down her fine, bronze legs in thick rivulets of rich, dark red and pooled around her feet like melted chocolate.


© Copyright 2017 Jennifer Brighton. All rights reserved.

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