The Best Worst Day

Richard was pacing. He was holed up in a room in a guest house trying to make the biggest decision of his life. He sighed heavily. Actually the decision was made it was more whether he had the courage to go ahead and do what needed to be done. Still pacing he grabbed a bottle of water off the small cubed table by the bed, uncapped it and brutally threw some back against his throat before recapping the bottle and dropping it on the bed. It landed with a satisfying thud despite the softness of the mattress. Finally standing still he picked up his tie from the back of the armchair situated under the window, pulled up his collar and put the tie into place, getting more and more frustrated as he got the two ends tangled up. Ripping it from his neck he tossed it back onto the chair and slumped down on the bed. With his head in his hands Richard decided that a tie was unnecessary for the task ahead. Since he would not be turning up as a guest he did not need to look smart.

Half a mile down the road Dawn was just about to step into a beautiful white classis Austen, provided by a friend of her father’s for the occasion, when she stopped, a sudden cold, fearful, feeling in the pit of her stomach and she turned looking wistfully up the driveway towards her parent’s house wishing she had a more honest and open relationship with them so she could tell them her reservations but she didn’t and it was too late now to back out. She was dolled up to the nines, wearing an expensive dress and jewellery all picked out by Ryan. Someone across the road called out, “Congratulations,” interrupting her thoughts and making Dawn smile weakly in thanks before ducking her head so she could get herself into the car and as she now positioned herself so her dress spilled out around her she painted a look of happiness on her face just in time for her father to get in beside her.  “Ready,” he asked her, taking hold of her hand. She nodded, unable to speak in fear of her voice breaking and giving her emotional state away.

At the church Ryan was stood at the altar with just five minutes before Dawn was due to arrive. Everything was in place. The guests were all seated and his best man was at his side. He smiled smugly. He was going to pull it off and marry the love of his life. He checked his watch and let out a sharp sigh. Four minutes. He hoped she would not let him down by being late. He had planned this day to the last second and it would not do to have anything overrun. He straightened his cravat and then he checked his watch again before turning to look towards the back of the church. He could see movement in the porch. She had arrived. Good.

Dawn took her father’s arm and together they walked up the aisle towards Ryan. Her bouquet was shaking as nerves consumed her and her father tapped her hand reassuringly. She couldn’t look at any of their guests, keeping her eyes forward yet trying not to meet Ryan’s gaze. When she reached him, her father kissed her cheek and Ryan grabbed her hand. She tried not to grimace at the tightness of his grip. Instead she smiled at him, concentrating on his handsome face so she could remember why she had fallen in love with him. If she concentrated hard enough she would be able to get through the day and then they could go back to the ways things were yesterday and before. She would find a way to be happy. As the ceremony started Ryan loosened his hold and finally returned her smile.

The vicar had barely finished his welcome when the church doors burst open and a voice behind them yelled, “Stop.” Despite Ryan trying to force her to remain facing the front she turned round to see who had shouted. Everybody behind her turned to. They were intrigued by the drama about to unfold. Her heart fizzed with emotion as she saw who stood at the back of the church yet her voice was cold as she asked, “What is it you wish to say Richard?” He seemed nervous now but managed to remain calm as he said, “Dawn, you cannot marry a man who hits you and controls you like he does.” He spat out the words and there were a few gasps from his audience but he continued. “Don’t bother denying it because I know he does. I love you Dawn and I promise I can give you a great, safe life if you’ll only let me.” And there it was. The excuse, the way out she had been looking for had just fallen in her lap. The man she knew she had loved since she was sixteen years old stood before her and the man she had tried to love for three years stood behind her. The choice was such a simple one yet she still hung back, but just for a second. Turning to Ryan she whispered, “I’m sorry, I can’t marry you.” With no other explanation she took a step towards Richard who was now half way up the aisle with his hand held out to her. Ryan tugged her arm and swung her back round to face him. His face was stern and his eyes fuelled with fury. “You will not leave this church until you are my wife. We are meant to be together.” Dawn gently shook her head. “No. We’re not. Richard has just shown me with just a few words the life I want. I’m sick of walking on shattered glass with you trying to make you happy. It should not be this difficult.” Still he would not let go, a redness seeping into the skin around his grip. “So what would you have done had he not shown up?” Dawn shrugged. “I guess I would have married you, but that does not make it right.” With that she pulled away from his hold and took another step towards Richard. One final glance back at Ryan told her everything she needed to know as his fist came smashing into her face. Hearing her nose crack she grasped hold of it as pain consumed her and blood spurted out. Dawn pushed Richard backwards so that he could not throw a punch no matter how badly he might want to before turning back to Ryan, who was now being restrained by his father who looked both embarrassed and shocked. Calmly she looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Now everyone can see what a fool I’ve been and why I really can’t marry you. The first time you did that to me I convinced myself it was a one off. The second time, I told myself you were under pressure with work and the third I put it down to the stresses of planning a wedding. Quite frankly I should have left you the first time and then no-one would have had to witness this debacle of a wedding, but through all of my doubts I was willing to put other people’s opinions before my own feelings. Well no more.” Grabbing Richard’s hand she pulled him up the aisle behind her and burst out of the church, not caring about the reactions coming from the guests. Ripping off her veil she threw it into the garden along with her bouquet and kept running. When they were far enough up the narrow road away from the church she stopped and faced Richard. “So you love me huh? Could you not have told me three years ago?” she asked laughing at him. He laughed too but said nothing. Instead he pulled her towards him and kissed her. He was so gentle, his touch soft and his arm around her was loosely protecting her back. A far cry from what she was used to. 

A Hidden Treasure

Sat in the centre of a busy town

Lay a secret. A hidden treasure chest

Of perfect silence and beauty.

Four long avenues all lined with pine trees

Lead away from the stone steps playing host

To the rocky water fountain. 

A palm tree stands tall with a chunky trunk.

Stunted yet broad branches look like many

Tongues sticking out from a monster.

Ugly. Yet beauty lies in the large leaves,

As, pretty and green, they spill out, waving,  

Like jazz hands at a dance soiree.

This secluded haven has been soundproofed

From anything not relevant to now.

Now being this rare chance of peace.

The only sounds are the trickling water

Some crunchy footsteps on the gravel paths

And the light breeze rustling the leaves.

Laughter erupts as a child interprets

A tree to look like a person in mud,

Head first. “A bum tree,” he giggles.

The tree indeed has a torso like trunk.

Where the bark has split it gives the look of

Two legs kicking for a way out.

In the depths of an Italian town,

Hidden away behind trees and bushes

Lies this little secret garden.

The Room

I was in the room again. Having upset my mother for the third day in a row with there still being five and a half weeks left of the summer break I was beginning to feel I would never see the outside world again. I’d only eaten my breakfast. I didn’t think I’d had time to annoy her but here she was shoving me down on the floor against the width of the wall which separated my parent’s room from the one I shared with my brother and then she closed all of the five doors tight so that no light would spill out into the hall I was in. I was all in darkness and barely able to make out my surroundings but no matter how dark it was I could always see the black plastic laundry bin in the corner in front of the huge airing cupboard, like a guard. It was less than a metre from where I was sitting and it was like it was edging towards me as I tried to inch away from it in fear of the spiders lurking behind it. Once I become accustomed to the darkness I became less rigid as I tried to see the hands on my Mickey Mouse watch and wondered how long I would be in here today.

            The room was my enemy. In here I was secluded. I was unable to play with my brother or my toys. Lego was my favourite as I could build roads that I could pretend would lead me away from here or houses that were bigger and better than this one. I would imagine I lived there with a family who loved playing. Here all I could do was twiddle my thumbs and think about what I could be doing. I always sat with my back pinned against the wall and I was usually afraid to move as I was always wondering how long the seclusion would last, always wondering when one of those spiders might attack.

Yet the room was also my friend which may seem odd but in some ways it was my safe place. When I was here I was not dodging harsh words or flailing fists. I love the word flailing, I mused. I’d heard my teacher say it and was always looking for a chance to use it. I like words especially in books where I can lose myself in the story. Here though I can only make stories up in my head. Some were silly, some not so much. I closed my eyes whilst I was imagining things. Well sort of. I always kept one eye half open and focused on the laundry bin in the corner.

            Today though was the third day in a row. I was bored of sitting in one place. Today was adventure day. I got onto my hands and knees and pretended I was a nice bright red sports car. Crawling around the small T shaped room, using my eyes as indicators when I thought I needed to go left or right, I was able to pretend I was on a road trip with a friend who I whispered to on my travels around the room. Don’t get me wrong the room was small and so there was not much travelling ground but I had a great imagination. A friend from school had told me he had gone on a long plane journey to go and see Mickey Mouse so I turned my ‘car’ in the direction of the airport. I passed bright green fields and big square houses with lots of windows and children playing in the garden. I admired the view all the way to the airport and when I got there I stopped, in awe of the jumbo jets. I could not wait to fly away in one.

            Even with my imagination there was nowhere far enough away for me to escape to so it wasn’t long before I came back to reality to the sound of clashing dishes as my mother aggressively did the washing up. I sat back in my place against the wall. I looked at Mickey on my wrist and saw that actually time hadn’t moved on that much. I sighed and put my head in my hands and rested them on my knee, still with half an eye on the corner. However I must have managed to doze off because before long I was jolted awake some time later with my mother now banging cupboards. Her mood had obviously not improved but it did mean that hopefully this time in the room was coming to an end as it was lunchtime. Well I guess a little boy like me can hope hey?