Lullaby

I never would have thought one old woman could make so much noise. It’s enough to bring the roof down. Listen to her: she sounds like a pig. Grunting and snorting. A styful of pigs. A whole f*****g farmyard of pigs. A vast, seething, milling herd of fat, snorting, disgusting pigs.

Do pigs herd? I don’t know. I don’t care. But if pigs did herd, that’s what she sounds like. The biggest herd of goddamn pigs ever brought together.

All I want is a good night’s sleep, just one glorious night’s sleep. Is it too much to ask for? Answer me that. Is just one good, peaceful night’s sleep too much to ask for? What time is it? Only half-past twelve. Hours to go before morning. Every night it’s the same. Watching the clock; counting the minutes away; listening to her terrible snoring.

Oh God, listen to that row. I’ve shoved her and punched her, shouted and cursed at her, but it makes no difference. She just grunts and groans, pauses for a while, and then the performance starts again.

One o’clock: only half an hour since I last looked. I just knew it was going to be a long night as soon as she said, “I feel my cough coming on again, a teaspoon of brandy would do the trick.” Of course she would down half the bottle, teaspoon by bloody teaspoon if need be.
She’s always worse when she’s been drinking. She had more than half the bottle this time around, that’s for sure. The way she staggered into bed, it was more like a couple of bottles. Drunken b***h!

Twenty-past one. I dare not talk to her about it. If I try to, she swears blind she doesn’t snore. She’s getting very irritable lately. She was really nasty the last time I mentioned it �" I’m almost sure she was going to raise her bony arm to hit me.

Five minutes to two. Oh no! She’s rolled over onto her back �" the decibel level will really go up now. There it goes! It’s a wonder she doesn’t bring the ceiling crashing down on our heads.

Twenty-past two. All I want is a little sleep, just a little blessed sleep. I just cannot stand this much longer. Please let me sleep.

Twenty-five to three. This is horrible. My body’s crying out for rest: my head is throbbing; my nerves are stretched out thin; I can’t think straight any more.

Three o’clock. Doesn’t she realize that I’ve had a hard day too; that I need my sleep as well? My grades are dropping in school. My teacher thinks I’m wasting the night away watching TV and playing video games. And what do I get for my suffering? Threats and curses from my mother. Why doesn’t she realize that she is the problem?

Got to do something, I’m getting desperate. No, no, please no more. That’s it �" I’ve had enough. The pillow... Put it over her face: her ugly, wrinkled, snoring face. There, hold it down, hold it down real tight. She’s so sound asleep; she doesn’t even know what I’m doing.

Press harder, harder. Harder than that, I’ve just got to make her stop snoring. Harder. Not long now... There, that’s stopped her.

Oh the peace! The quiet; the tranquility. This is beautiful, delicious, wonderful. It’s so quiet. Listen... Not a sound, nothing but silence. Beautiful silence. Now I can close my eyes and sleep. Sleep… sleep… sleep.

*     *     *

Twenty to four. It’s so quiet �" too quiet. Is it always like this at this hour? There’s not a sound anywhere. It’s like the whole world has stopped. It’s so unnatural. I don’t like it. I never knew there was so much silence. How can anybody get to sleep in this awful silence?