Up in the Attic

I took a room in a boarding house

In a seedy part of town,

I hadn’t worked for a month or so

And was feeling rather down,

My girl had left with another guy

Who promised her thrills and rings,

While I could offer her take-away

Among other boring things.

 

I really felt I was down and out,

The insurance wasn’t through,

I’d caught my arm in a roller, and

You know what that can do.

With plaster up to my elbow, I

Could get no sort of work,

So had to exist on the government,

And I felt like a prime jerk.

 

I’d always been independent

So my pride had taken a hit,

The landlord hurried me out

As soon as the rent was behind a bit,

The boarding house, it was ancient,

A Victorian red brick,

A mansion once, but converted

Into rooms, for the broke, and sick.

 

I sank in a deep depression,

I could barely go out the door,

Fish and chips was the staple meal

That I bought from the corner store,

I’d slink back in to my tiny room

And eat from the daily news,

The only things of the world outside

That I learned, were the column views.

 

I’d thought Denise was my passion,

My charm in a mundane life,

I’d thought she’d always be there for me

And asked her to be my wife,

But that was before the accident,

She’d hummed and hah’d, ‘We’ll see!’

But set her star on the shiny car

Of the guy who came after me.

 

I lay and thought of her often,

I thought she was most unkind,

And tried to maintain my anger, but

Could not get her out of my mind.

What made it worse, as a sort of curse

Were the sounds from up above,

The guy, up there in the attic,

Laughing, joking and making love!

 

The girls tripped up in the evening,

Up the stairs, right past my room,

I heard them giggle and whispering

As I lay there, deep in gloom.

I wondered about the attraction,

Was he rich, this guy, or what?

So why was he there in a boarding house

In an attic - what had he got?

 

The music came through the ceiling,

I could hear them dancing there,

They kept me awake to the early hours

As I slumped in an old armchair,

They’d come in pairs, or one at a time

And they’d leave, but just on dawn,

After I’d heard the bedsprings creak

And a low, but sultry moan!

 

He and the landlord were thick as thieves

But I never caught sight of him,

I asked him once, ‘Who’s the guy up there?

It sounds like he’s running a gym!’

‘Now don’t you bother your head, my lad,

He’s a friend, and an honoured guest,

He don’t take kindly to strangers, so

Just keep to yourself, it’s best!’

 

I started leaving an open door

So I’d see the girls who came,

Dressed to kill in their mini-skirts

They all looked much the same,

One evening, one came very late

When I’d thought I’d have some peace,

She stopped by the door and looked at me,

And I blurted out, ‘Denise!’

 

She caught her breath and she looked at me

Then hurried on up the stair,

Determined she wouldn’t talk to me

As I sat in a mute despair,

I thought at first to follow her

But I slammed the door, said ‘No!

I’m not going to play her silly games,’

But listened from down below.

 

The music played and I heard her voice,

Her laugh, but soft and sweet,

She certainly had no thought for me

As I slumped there, in defeat.

I heard the bedsprings creak at last

And I knew it was over then,

But she never came down the stairs that night

And I woke, just after ten.

 

I wanted to turn the light on, but

It seemed to have blown the globe,

I climbed on a chair to change it, and

It flashed, just like a strobe,

Something was dripping along my arm

Sticky, the colour of mud,

I jumped off the chair, and opened the door

To the hallway, it was blood!

 

I ran up the stairs, two at a time

And I kicked in the attic door,

Denise was naked, such as she was,

She lay, spread out on the floor,

I took out the guy with a single hit

And I looked at the mantelpiece,

For there was a head on a metal spit,

And I cried out, ‘No! - Denise!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Valentine]

Did his hitting the guy impale him on the metal spit? Or was it there all of the time.. He surely did not lose anything when he lost her..perhaps some of us would be beetter off if we quit chasing a dream that can never be..They usually turnout not as great as we thought them..I have to admit you stumped me a little on this one David..Your with is really something else..and you are really expanding your type of writing..I wish all of the world knew of you..love and God bless.Lyn and You..Kathie

[minisla]

Not the ending I anticipated. Serious twist. Enjoyed it yet again.

[eatmills]

Quite the macabre ending. I wonder what would have happened if you had followed Denise up those stairs?

[Patricia B. Hepler]

The tension building in this poem was great; I felt so sorry for the guy, who was down & kicked to the wayside by his girl. When he realized something was terribly wrong, he didn't hesitate to investigate...then everything turned horrific. Scary ending! ~pat

[.]

Wow, what an epic masterpiece. Be careful what you wish for lol.

[A love for poetry]

Holly crap! Last stanza was a surprise; interesting! Love this bit though:

"And eat from the daily news,"

Boarding houses are no fun at all! So you have captured this very well and truly.

[Enid Blake]

I was intrigued the minute I saw the title in my request box and was not disappointed! The attic - isn't that the place we all avoid? In reality and metaphorically speaking?!
(Takeaway's under-rated!)

[Tate Morgan]

now theres a macabre one for you. Whoa I cant say i envy the man who found her .However I suppose she got what she wanted lol

[Lena M. P.]

This was really good except the last was a little unclear as to why the guy decided to kill Denise when all the others he just "had over". I did love the irony that she fell lower than he did in the end though.