An Untitled Night

Just make it disappear.

An Untitled Night

 

        It’s not as easy as making furniture disappear. I can take away a table leg or a drawer if I stare hard enough, but it’s almost impossible to stare at shouting let alone make it go away. So, the angry words continue through the walls every night.

        Once, I looked so hard that the wall disappeared and I had hoped that I would see the vicious words being thrown across the room. But all I saw were the pipes. I can make trees disappear as well, but again, furniture is easier. It’s level one, for beginners. Once you reach level two, you have walls and animals maybe.

I like to think that these things went somewhere better when they disappeared. Somewhere without loud noises, mean people, and rainy weather on recess days. I try to imagine what world it would be, but all my imagination allows me to picture is an endless white zone with random objects floating around. Not much better than this world, but still better.

I heard somewhere that level ten is when you make yourself disappear. That’s why one Saturday, when I was dropped off at my grandmother’s house, I took the mirror that was in her drawer and stared at my reflection, hoping something would happen. The trick was not to blink, but my eyes started hurting after a few minutes and I was still there.

“Honey, what are you doing?” My grandmother had said.

“Shh!” I said and continued staring. I opened my eyes wider.

“Put that down before something bad happens,” she said and pulled the mirror away from me.

I told my grandma about all the shouting at night and I didn’t understand why she looked at me sadly. She had put the mirror on top of a tall bookshelf and bent down next to me.

“Just count to a hundred,” she said.

“What happens when I reach a hundred?”

“Then count to two hundred.”

        One night, I was counted to one hundred and two when my window never returned. I blinked and expected to see the white-framed glass that sat on the wall, but there was nothing. Everything else started to go after that. The clock on my desk, my chair, the Nintendo Game Boy on my bookshelf. My wooden drawers disappeared along with all my clothes. There were no more doorknobs. There were no more doors.

         The only thing left was the shouting. I got out of bed and walked down the dark hallway to my parent’s room. I could still hear the yelling through the door.

         “Because the velvet ones would have been so much better!”

         “We’ll never know now, because they’re all green!”

         A crash of a bottle. I cracked the door open and stared hard.

         “Do you even know what�"”

         “Like you would have d�"”

         “Go back to�"”

         “Tomorro�"”

         “Shu�"”

         “B�"”

             

Author's Note

My writing doesn't like to follow the typical storyline/dialog. And sometimes, I don't worry too much about making linear sense. But I hope you enjoy. Feedback please.

Reviews

[beautiful dreamer]

i like that about your writing! i did enjoy it very much so wonderful write

[Libby Carsons]

thank you!