Set the World to Mute

I had forgotten that feeling.

When you can't eat, and you can't smile, and you can't sleep properly. Heartbreak, I think they call it. I wonder if I had ever really been heartbroken before - at least, I don't remember ever feeling as bad as I did then. And, at least, I hadn't been responsible myself.

But then again, the mind usually makes things seem so simple and easy when you're out of it all. Like a woman forgets the pain of birth when she sees the baby, so she won't be scared to do it again. Chemistry, is all it is. The body and the mind's own defence. Or the human way to ensure reproduction.

I suppose we're all subjects to our own desires in the end, no matter what they are.

And boy was I in for a reminder.

**

Today, Friday, I am an hour late. It's not intentional, allthough one might think so, I simply lay down for a quick nap when I got home, and then it turned out to not be so quick after all. Sleep is hard to come by these days, and it's starting to show. I've aquired bags under my eyes, and I haven't got the energy to put in the extra efford.

In short, I look like shit.

If I had been on time like I have all the other days this week, I could slip in almost unnoticed, and just hop on the train and I wouldn't have to speak with him, but today I've kept him waiting - and he will be waiting. Right on the other side of that door.

This is why, as I reach their door, I'm reluctant to go in. I stand there for a bit, stroking my own cowardice. I imagne Ben will be on the floor with the girls, annoyed that I am late. His office will be towering up with orders and unfinished work, and I will be the reason he'll get nothing done.

And then there's nothing to do but go in.

For once, the apartment in one hundred percent silent as I push the door open. There's no radio, no TV, no children screaming. I hang up my coat and peak around the place. Nothing.

"Hello?" I try, and there's no reaction. I take a couple of steps into the apartment, finding it rather cold and unwelcoming with no one there. "Is there anyone here?"

I hear some rummaging from Ben's room, and suddenly Sophie appears in the door. "Alice," she roars, and rushes over to hug my feet.

"Hello little hobbit," I mutter, stroking her hair, "where is everyone?"

"You won't believe it!"

"What's that?"

"Daddy's sick!"

My eyes widen in the direction of his bedroom, "What?"

"Real sick, like ill! Like he's got a disease!"

"Oh..." Behind her, Emma comes crawling out, all smiles. "Is he in there?"

"Mhm, he's been reading us stories all day. But he's real tired now." Her little eyebrows furrowes in a very important manner. "Why are you so late? We waited for you."

I crouch down and take her hands, feeling my own brows furrow with guilt, "I fell asleep when I got home, I'm sad to say, and I overslept. I'm very sorry."

Her eyebrows knit tighter. "You look tired, are you sick too?"

"Sort of," I mumble, and get up again. "But I'll be fine," I assure her, taking her hand, "Let's go see daddy." On the way I pick up Emma, who grabs a hold of my hair and puts it in her mouth, drool making its way down her chin. I smile at her and she smiles back, happily letting me wipe her chin with the sleeve of my sweater. "There, all better," I mumble, and she chews her agreement.

His room is dark and the air is stale. I'm not sure if he even notices my entering, because he doesn't move, and his eyes are closed. He looks ghostly pale, and the shadows underneath his eyes mirror my own.

I cross the floor and open a window, letting some fresh air in. "Sophie, take Emma into the living room, will you? I think Dora is on. You love her, don't you?"

Sophie nods all adult-like and takes her sister from my arms, leaving the room. Within seconds I hear the TV turn on, and the familiar tune of Dora the Explorer fills the silence. It sounds like people live here again.

I sit down on the bed and his eyes flutter open. He looks clear and awake, allthough tired. His forehead is clammy, and he has the worst case of bedhead I have ever seen. "You okay?" He gives me a look, and his fingers tap against the blanket covering his legs. "Stupid question, I guess," I mumble, and fall silent. "I'm sorry I'm late, I overslept. I meant to have a nap when I got home-" He holds up his hands, it's okay. Don't worry. I bite my lip. "Haven't been sleeping all that good..."

He doesn't even look up from his blanket. I don't blame him. How is he supposed to react? I sigh. "Do you want a cigarette or something? I'll help you till the window if you like?" He shakes his head and slides firther beneath the sheets, his shirt riding up. He looks miserable.

"Leave you to it then," I mumble and get up. "I'll take care of the kids. Get some sleep." He nods thankfully, and closes his eyes, pulling his covers up to his chin. I cross the floor, switch off the lights and close the door behind me.

On the other side, I lean against the door, taking a big breath. That was our first real interaction since I ended it. It wasn't very pleasant, but then again, neither was I that night. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and wish I had tried to look a bit fresher today. Or not taken that nap. I always woke up feeling all sticky and clammy when I had a nap, and the run over here certainly didn't make it any better. Cabs were expensive.

I push myself off the door, and rid myself of all bad thoughts. "Sophie?" She's sitting crosslegged in front of the TV, Emma on her lap.

"Yes?" She looks at me with those beautiful big eyes, and I feel myself smiling. She's so pretty. "Are you hungry?"

She nods and gets up, so full of energy. I feel tired. "What are you making us today? Spaghetti?"

"No," I smile, feeling quite pleased that she loved my spaghetti so much. "I think we'll try something different today." She follows me into the kitchen, placing Emma on the counter, holding on to her shoulders, watching me curiously. I take a peak in the cupboards and rack my brain for something edible. There's flour, and eggs, and sugar... "How about some pancakes? Check to see of there's syrup, will you?"

She squeals and discards her sister to the floor, before storming over to the cabinet where they keep their sweets. "It's here. But we need to blueberry jam! You can't eat pancakes without jam!"

"Check, then," I say, finding a bowl beneath the counter and cracking some eggs. I smile to myself when I hear her rummaging through the fridge. I can't count how many times Ben has taken her firmly by the shoulders, lead her to the fridge and pointed to the mess she's made. She always looked very sorry, and then cleaned it up, but she never learned.

"It's here!" She yells, jumping up and down the jar secured firmly in her hands. "I haven't had pancakes since mum died!"

I feel my shoulders tense, and turn around to search her face for any signs of her being upset, but she looks quite content. "Well, I hope mine are as good then," I say quietly, "I learned from my grammy."

"Is she a good grammy?"

The odd question makes me giggle. "What's a good grammy?"

"A good grammy is old and makes a lot of buns and cakes. My grammy does that, but grandmother doesn't." My brows raise at that. I imagine "grandmother" is Ben's mother. She did seem a bit un-grandmotherly.

"Well then she was a good grammy. She died a couple of years ago, I was very sad."

Her brows furrowes as she slides onto the stool next to me, watching me work. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay. She was very old." I mix the ingredients together in the bowl and push it towards her. "Wanna taste?"

She grins and takes a scoop of the sap with her finger. "Yum!" She exclaims, and looks at me seriously. "We should just eat it like it is."

I laugh, "I don't think that would be so clever. We'd get terrible stomach aches, all of us."

She looks deflated, and slides off the chair as Emma started making abandonment sounds. "That wouldn't be so fun for daddy, I think," she says and picks the baby up. Emma's face scrunches up, and I can tell she's about to cry. Sophie grabs a random tape from the shelf behind her, and gives it to her sister.

I freeze when I see what it says. "Wedding, Ben."

Sophie looks at me oddly when I go quiet for so long. "Are you okay? Are you sick too?"

I blink and look at her. "No, no, I just was miles away." I turn back to my bowl. "You shouldn't let her have that. She might ruin it."

She nodded and took the tape from her sister's sticky fingers, making her launch a roar that belonged in the jungle. She hurriedly carried her sister to her play-area and stuffed her favorite teddy in her hands, calming her slightly. "There," she says to her sister, placing a kiss on her head. All better."

I stared at the tape for the rest of the night.