Heavy Rain
2
As soon as the clock struck 10pm Jack slumped out of the sofa and began the long, heavy journey upstairs. His pajama bottoms and vest didn't require changing and all that was left to do was remove his socks and slide under the sheets next to the woman he once loved. He reached the creaky step at the top. Huh, he thought to himself, it's funny. That step has been creaking since Louise was born and every single day he'd thought about how he needed to fix it. He never seemed to find the time. He came to a complete stop at the top of the landing to ponder this thought. Why exactly didn't he have time? He never did anything much. His wandering mind was, however, interrupted by a shriek from the bedroom.
"Jack? Well are you coming or not? I've been waiting bloody ages to turn this lamp off! Think of the electricity bills!"
Yes, he may not do much but he had a sneaking suspicion at the true cause of his lack of motivation. And oh how he couldn't wait to remove it from the face of the Earth! He heavily trod into the bedroom and closed the door behind him, ignoring the sarcastic comments from the beady eyed little whore in the nightgown beside him. Sighing, he peeled off the dirty socks before settling down in his bed for the lamp to be switched off. No, perhaps "settling" was the wrong word, it implied comfort and relaxation. "Positioned" himself in bed. As his eyes accustomed to the dark through the hours of the night, the soft snores beside him grew louder, each more infuriating than the last until he was gripping the bed sheets to stop himself punching her square in the face with all his might.
No. If his plan was to work, he could have no evidence of violence in his behaviour. The smallest things could give you away, and Jack Hall knew that better than anyone. The moments that haunted him in the blackness, the memories that approached with each dusk were far darker and far more disturbing than those nightmares of his neighbours. They required great patience to outlast, and patience was something this man was more than capable of.
He could resist punching that slimy mouth of hers if he could get what he wanted.
It was 4:30am and the light was beginning to seep through the cracks in the flimsy curtains. It lit up the dreary room, highlighting the dust on the bookshelves and the empty mugs and beer bottles littering the surfaces. Jack lay awake still, his hands clasped tightly together on the huge bulge that made up his stomach. On a usual night he would block out Victoria’s incessant snoring but tonight was different. He had taken them all in, each sound more repulsive than the next, each sound heightening his maddening resentment for her. Yes, it was becoming all too clear that killing her would be his only option.
Jack Hall wasn’t the brightest tool in the box, but he did at least have common sense. He could perhaps fob the neighbours off with a concocted story, “Oh she’s staying with our daughter...” “She’s gone to live with her ill sister...” “I hit her over the head with a shovel and buried the fucking corpse in the back garden”. The image made him smile. No, he would also have to explain to Louise and Mark where she was. How could he get away with this? It was going to be a lot more complicated than he had imagined.
“I wish I was king, just for a day” he whispered into the dark. He rubbed his eyes and rolled over to face her. Changing his mind instantly, for he couldn’t bear to look at her, he turned to face the mirror. Staring back at him was the face of a man who’d lost all hope. There were bags under his eyes; his mouth was pulled downwards in a despairing frown, and he looked like he was about to cry. Well, not any more. Standing up and walking over to the offending reflection, he took a deep breath and sighed. There was no need for him to pull such oppressive faces - she would be gone soon! He would be rid of the bitch and able to live his own, carefree life! A smile began to tug at the corners as he imagined it. Able to get up at whatever time he liked! Able to eat, drink, and go for walks whenever he decided! Perhaps he would even get a girlfriend! She would be younger, prettier, and most importantly supportive. He started to chuckle and before he knew it he was bent over double, pounding his thigh with his fist and wheezing with laughter. Victoria sat up in bed with a start.
“What on Earth are you cackling at, Jack? What time is it, quarter to five! What are you out of bed for at such an ungodly hour? Go to sleep at once!”
With tears of laughter in his eyes, he turned to her. “I’m sorry, dear, I was just thinking...” but the sight of her haggard and tightly strained face glaring back at him was enough to set him off again. “God will be very angry with me...” he giggled. “He’ll be very angry indeed!”
“I haven’t time for your nonsense, Jack” she spat at him before lying down to roll over once more. He eventually stopped laughing and climbed back into bed. Yes, he was determined that from this moment onwards he would be a changed man. He had something to look forward, and boy was he looking forward to it.
"Jack? Well are you coming or not? I've been waiting bloody ages to turn this lamp off! Think of the electricity bills!"
Yes, he may not do much but he had a sneaking suspicion at the true cause of his lack of motivation. And oh how he couldn't wait to remove it from the face of the Earth! He heavily trod into the bedroom and closed the door behind him, ignoring the sarcastic comments from the beady eyed little whore in the nightgown beside him. Sighing, he peeled off the dirty socks before settling down in his bed for the lamp to be switched off. No, perhaps "settling" was the wrong word, it implied comfort and relaxation. "Positioned" himself in bed. As his eyes accustomed to the dark through the hours of the night, the soft snores beside him grew louder, each more infuriating than the last until he was gripping the bed sheets to stop himself punching her square in the face with all his might.
No. If his plan was to work, he could have no evidence of violence in his behaviour. The smallest things could give you away, and Jack Hall knew that better than anyone. The moments that haunted him in the blackness, the memories that approached with each dusk were far darker and far more disturbing than those nightmares of his neighbours. They required great patience to outlast, and patience was something this man was more than capable of.
He could resist punching that slimy mouth of hers if he could get what he wanted.
It was 4:30am and the light was beginning to seep through the cracks in the flimsy curtains. It lit up the dreary room, highlighting the dust on the bookshelves and the empty mugs and beer bottles littering the surfaces. Jack lay awake still, his hands clasped tightly together on the huge bulge that made up his stomach. On a usual night he would block out Victoria’s incessant snoring but tonight was different. He had taken them all in, each sound more repulsive than the next, each sound heightening his maddening resentment for her. Yes, it was becoming all too clear that killing her would be his only option.
Jack Hall wasn’t the brightest tool in the box, but he did at least have common sense. He could perhaps fob the neighbours off with a concocted story, “Oh she’s staying with our daughter...” “She’s gone to live with her ill sister...” “I hit her over the head with a shovel and buried the fucking corpse in the back garden”. The image made him smile. No, he would also have to explain to Louise and Mark where she was. How could he get away with this? It was going to be a lot more complicated than he had imagined.
“I wish I was king, just for a day” he whispered into the dark. He rubbed his eyes and rolled over to face her. Changing his mind instantly, for he couldn’t bear to look at her, he turned to face the mirror. Staring back at him was the face of a man who’d lost all hope. There were bags under his eyes; his mouth was pulled downwards in a despairing frown, and he looked like he was about to cry. Well, not any more. Standing up and walking over to the offending reflection, he took a deep breath and sighed. There was no need for him to pull such oppressive faces - she would be gone soon! He would be rid of the bitch and able to live his own, carefree life! A smile began to tug at the corners as he imagined it. Able to get up at whatever time he liked! Able to eat, drink, and go for walks whenever he decided! Perhaps he would even get a girlfriend! She would be younger, prettier, and most importantly supportive. He started to chuckle and before he knew it he was bent over double, pounding his thigh with his fist and wheezing with laughter. Victoria sat up in bed with a start.
“What on Earth are you cackling at, Jack? What time is it, quarter to five! What are you out of bed for at such an ungodly hour? Go to sleep at once!”
With tears of laughter in his eyes, he turned to her. “I’m sorry, dear, I was just thinking...” but the sight of her haggard and tightly strained face glaring back at him was enough to set him off again. “God will be very angry with me...” he giggled. “He’ll be very angry indeed!”
“I haven’t time for your nonsense, Jack” she spat at him before lying down to roll over once more. He eventually stopped laughing and climbed back into bed. Yes, he was determined that from this moment onwards he would be a changed man. He had something to look forward, and boy was he looking forward to it.