Cries Through The Hallway
I blame you, Brenda. I blame you!
It wasn't the accusation itself that made her recoil, it was the tone. The anger. And finally, the hate that pulsed from every look and word he uttered. It was unlike him.
She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, to comfort herself where none existed.
The shrill, fragile sound of a baby's cry broke the stillness in her room. Brenda froze, her eyes darting across the room as her breath quickened with rising panic.
No, no, no! Not again.
Her eyes glazed over, fixating on the wall across from her where a brightly lit hallway to the nursery appeared. She furrowed her brows in confusion.
My baby.
When the cries started, she'd merely heard the sounds and often curled in bed with a pillow over her head to shut them out. Now, she could see the nursery through the wall. That was unusual.
The piercing sound of the baby's cry made her skin crawl as she moved towards the hallway, her hands outstretched as if to hold her baby.
Was this another of those dreams or was her baby still alive?
She quickened her pace, following the sound to get to her baby quickly. Just maybe this time around, she could save her son and her husband, Jeremy, would not hate her anymore.
A dizziness swept over her as she crossed into the dim nursery. It was icy cold inside. A wooden cot sat against the wall, while the rocking armchair beside it swayed as though someone just stood up from it. She made a mental note to start the fire as soon as she'd settled the baby.
The crying had stopped. Sucking sounds emanated from the cot. A chill danced across her skin, raising the hairs along her neck. Something wasn't right.
Stop this, Brenda! Go back.
She wanted to. If only to assure herself and her family that she made efforts to save her baby. The pull was too strong. If she could see his beautiful amber eyes again.
Brenda!
She huffed. Why did Jeremy always shout so much? She thought before a strong hand grip her arm and yank her backwards with such force. Sharp pain hit her back and tailbone, wrenching a cry from her lips as she crashed in an ungracious slump onto the floor of her bedroom.
Brenda gasped in shock. The nursery was no longer there. Instead, her balcony door was wide open as a cold breeze blew in. Jeremy stared down at her, pale and equally in shock.
“Were you really going to do it?” He rasped, his voice raw and angry.
“Do what?” She asked, confused, her brain in shambles.
“You…you had one leg over the railing. Why? Did you want to hurt yourself?”
She shook her head vigorously. “No. No, no, I….I saw…”
“Saw what?” Jeremy sighed, wiping his face. He gazed up, not looking at her like the very sight of her hurt him. “If this is your attempt at getting some attention, just stop it, okay? I've got a lot on my plate right now. What if I'd not come in?”
Brenda slowly crawled back into her bed, her mind in a state of turmoil that she couldn't express to the world. No one would believe her, not even her husband but she was certain she heard her baby crying.
As Jeremy stormed out of her room, muttering, the tears fell, soaking into her pillow.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase “unlike him”.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
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