26 Iúil 2007

Broken

Siobhán sat in the sitting room; the only light coming from the television, the only heat eminating from the mug of coffee between her hands. She considered it pointless to get up and turn on either the radiator or the light, because she'd be told as soon as her husband came home from work that it was only "wasting his precious money." For fourteen years she had lived like this; in a cold, damp old house that she once saw as her dream home. That was, of course, before her husband Anthony became obsessed with 'saving' money.

Anthony wasn't just obsessed with money, either, but also with himself. He'd come home from work almost every evening, sit down on the sofa and begin to watch TV without even acknowledging his wife, with the exception of the constantly-used line; "is the dinner almost ready, love?"

Siobhán seemed to be naturally cold-blooded, and she'd almost always have the electric fire turned on, but Anthony was always the opposite, and never regarded how Siobhán was feeling. He'd come in from work or his daily walk through the village, and immediately turn off any source of heat, systematically saying 'my God, its like a furnace in here.' Siobhán would complain but it would come to no avail, Anthony simply could not see that even though he was sweating from his work or walk, that she was practically freezing and her only comfort was the small amount of heat radiating from the electric fire. He'd turn it off every time he passed by it.

Her favourite TV programme had ended, and her coffee was getting cold, while Anthony would be on his way home soon. She dragged herself off the couch to go make the dinner for the two of them; their daughter Stephanie - the only one who would stand up against Anthony's selfish actions - was away on holidays in Portugal for two weeks with her friends from college. She decided to put together a few vegetables as she turned on the radio. It had been a while since she had any company during the day apart from the radio and the television; her only friend lived on the other side of the city, and besides that she was starting her own family with the arrival of her new baby son.

Soon, Anthony came into the house from work, shouted 'hi' as he made his way immediately to the sitting room and changed the television channel to one of the sports games of the week. He knew Siobhán was in the kitchen, he knew that she was making dinner for him, yet she knew that he had no intention of coming down to kiss her 'hello,' or ask how her day had been, or to even tell her of any of his own day's events. All he wanted was his football and his food.

The radio was still set on one of the newer stations that Stephanie usually listened to, and what played was "My Immortal" by Evanescence, one of her daughter's favourite bands. For some reason, hearing the words of a certain part of the song made her turn the cooker off and break down in tears;

"...but though you're still with me, I feel alone, all alone..."

1 trácht:

abby said...

lovely, i mean sad but lovely.
i'm spanish, but i love irish and scot culture. i'd love to learn gaelic 'cos i think is wonderful but here in spain is quite complicated learn it. i'd love to learn some about irish literature, it's just a hobby but is important for me. thank you
(i'll come back to see your posts, but now only in english :P )