There Are Windows In Our Eyes

June 30, 2010
By AlexTraxinger PLATINUM, Fort Worth, Texas
AlexTraxinger PLATINUM, Fort Worth, Texas
42 articles 0 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

A tired man's hand gripped the can and a callused finger sat at the tab. The crisp sound of a beer being popped open broke into the silent but crowded apartment. Its contents blew into the atmosphere like a geyser erupting right on schedule. The fizz hitting the counter, the baby's cry, and the father muttering a curse to himself. “S***.” The solitary syllable hit the back of his teeth, knocking like an old friend at the enamel.

Hanging tight to the edge of the clean, white counter, the man stared into the kitchen window, finding his tired face translucent and merging with the black night on the other side of the glass. Beneath his shirt, he could feel the scars. And he wondered if he was too old to be doing this to himself. Wondered when he was going to finally grow up. His baby daughter was crying in the next room, but he didn't go to comfort her. Shame and disgust kicked and screamed in his mind and fear ate at his lungs until it was hard to breathe.

Would tonight bring the last kiss?

The man' brown eyes retracted ever so slightly when they were met with the reflection of the hallway light being turned on, filling the apartment with a bright glow. He could see his wife's shadow in the window, but immediately turned away. For a moment, he felt her gaze stay on him before she moved into the baby's room. Listening to the soft sounds of her and the baby together used to make him smile, but now it just churned guilt in his stomach.

He shut his eyes and counted backwards from twenty. He only got to twelve before he realized that he was too tired to remember what came before that. Moving almost like a ghost, he picked up the can and poured it all down the sink, watching the alcohol pour forth in its sick stream of lies. Once he had thrown the container in the trash, he wiped up the mess that he had made and walked into his bedroom. There, he took off his clothes and laid in bed, waiting for his wife to come back from the baby's room.

He wondered if she would ask where he had been... why he hadn't answered her when she had called... and he wondered if she would forgive him as she always had.

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