Disguise

It seemed quiet for a couple of days. But the kind of quiet that sits barely on the ledge, right behind is a slight tilt away from falling into the abyss.

Perhaps it's the honeymoon stage that therapists talk about in the fear circle.

Always the charmer in the beginning.                They're nice, then it's the nit picking, then name calling, followed by physical abuse, followed by the apology. Then, back to the honeymoon stage. Round and round we go with spins so quick the cycles blur together. How can one jump from that?

I had finished a shift at work and brought back  a family bucket of chicken. 

Going to the front door, I was hit with a sensation of urgency and the need to flee. Barely disguised fear kept me back. 

I forced two feet to move inside and up the stairs toward the kitchen and placed the bucket of chicken on the table.

Rapid-fire speech assaulted my ears coming from Mr. D followed by a quiet reply from his wife. 

Mrs. D's eyes skipped around the room and locked on the bucket of chicken. She picked it up and passed it to me.

Then waved me off with a slight lift of her hand as if to say, "Take it and go."

I left but not so fast that I didn't catch the glare of Mr. D's eyes on me.

I took the chicken downstairs. I wondered what the issue was and what the exchange was about. I suppose it doesn't matter. If it wasnt one thing, it would surely be another.

Once again, all the hairs across my neck and arms were standing up at attention. My extra sense was clanging its bells louder especially when in a questionable position as this was. 

I listened closely to the rise and fall of their voices. I knew what I was listening for...the tell tale signs of danger.

The clip of syllables and the deep rumble of Mr. D's voice clearly sounded malevolent to me...like a growl barely contained.

Mrs. D's voice sounded the opposite. Placating and soft. It was unclear whether the voices had escalated or escalate. After a while the voices quieted but I still didnt like it. The jangle of bells in my mind did not cease but only increased.

I leaned back and listened, I struggled to stay awake straining to hear every sound. The silence gripped me and I felt myself drift off into a light sleep.

I was dreaming.

I knew this because I could see his fist come at me faster than life. Nothing in reality could move that fast and no fist could be so big. Just when I was sure of connection, my eyes snapped open.

I looked around, it was dark and I still hadn't taken off my work clothes. Quietly I changed into a night shirt. Then I ate a quick piece of chicken, lay down on the couch once again.

It was quiet. It was much too quiet. It was happening or, something was going to happen. I could feel it in my bones. A shimmer deep within the marrow radiating outward. I waited. There was no sound but, that feeling still persisted. I waited so long that finally, I began to drift away again. Sleep took me for the next few hours.

Then reason for my trepidation made itself known. So much so I thought the sound would break my ear drums. "Aaargghhhhaarghhaaaiiieeee!!" 

I ran to the stairwell in time to see Mrs. D get tossed down the steps to the landing by my feet. I looked up in time to see that Mr. D had thrown something heavy and dark. Two seconds later it bounced off my skull.

Starlight, pressing blackness...lights out....