Failed Attempts to Make Sounds

Failed Attempts to Make Sounds

I had the same nightmare again last night, but this time I remember
stopping and thinking how I wished it was all a dream and that I'd wake
up and none of it would be true. I didn't wake up, not for ages and
ages, the dream continued into the next day, the following afternoon,
by which point time was a bit mixed up, and I stood in a doorway and
forced myself to accept the reality of what had happened.

When I did eventually open my eyes and look up at the closed curtains,
I had no overwhelming sense of relief, not like normally. I just lay
there knowing that my alarm clock would start ringing any second...
now. And it did. Freaking myself out at the very beginning of the day
was becoming a habit. I figured I should sleep less or sleep more but
never got round to doing either. I heard the murmurs of the TV
downstairs and rolled over to get up.

I remembered the horse chestnut tree as I drew back the curtains.
They'd trimmed it down two days ago and left it looking naked-like and
embarrassed. It reminded me of Aslan in The Lion the Witch and the
Wardrobe, when he lay down on the Stone Table and let them shave off
his beautiful yellow mane.

"You should wake me up if you have nightmares," said Leon while we
drank coffee.

"I'm asleep while I'm having them," I replied.

I washed up last night's mess in the kitchen and stared out into the
garden. Next door's cats were sitting in the grass again, squinting
towards me in the window with half closed eyes. They might have been
falling asleep. They had their yawning expressions on and they looked
knackered. I was knackered. Even the grass looked knackered.

"I'm going to the shop," he called from the other room, "...want
anything?"

"What's likely to help me?" I shouted back. No answer. And the front
door slammed.

I darted from the kitchen and saw his boots missing from under the
radiator. Out of the window, he was just reaching the corner of the
road. Should I call him? Too late. I wandered about for a while chewing
digestive biscuits and watered the plants, though water didn't seem to
help them much, they looked like dirty fragments of fraying rope. I
imagined their voices, if they had any they'd be straining, if they
could talk they'd be gasping at me or screaming, or just opening their
mouths in failed attempts to make sounds. I looked out at the road for
him, but he didn't appear. Where was he? He'd been ages. It occurred to
me that if he didn't come back the plants would most definitely turn
black like rotten banana skins.

The birds seemed to like the chestnut tree, no less since its haircut.
They dotted themselves in its branches and chatted, and I wondered if
from up there they could see Leon walking down the street towards here.
No indication whatsoever, they paid no attention to us, they had busy
lives the birds. It gave me the idea to look out from the upstairs
window though, I ran up and ducked under the net, but I still couldn't
see him coming.

I flopped on the bed and groaned loudly in the silence like a mad
elephant, I couldn't stand this being alone. I was sure I would go mad,
I had already bitten off the skin around three fingernails and I had no
idea what to do next.

Then a key clicked in the lock and I sat upright. I heard the door
open and shut, and some loose coins landed on the telephone table. I
jumped up and started to sort out a pile of socks into pairs and Leon
soon came into sight on the landing. "You OK?" he asked dipping his
hand into a crisp packet.

"Do I look OK?" I answered without turning my eyes up, and he sighed
heavily and walked off. I glanced up at the empty hallway and threw a
sock across the floor. The TV went on downstairs. I stopped and thought
how I wished it was all a dream and that I'd wake up and tell Leon that
he was my favourite person in the world and that I couldn't live
without him. I didn't wake up, and I didn't tell him either, I
couldn't.