Behind Closed Doors
In a small street, of tight nit neighbours, you expect there to be no secrets. No hidden fear or guilt. But how can you be sure, that all that you see isn't a facade. How can you know, that behind closed doors, there isn't a lie?
A part of me, somewhere in my subconscious, registered the blood curdling screams of my mother. And with that my eyes snapped open...
In a daze, I made my way across the landing, and I crouched at the top of my staircase. Through all the hysteria, I managed to notice my front door ajar with my father outside and my sisters beside him.
However, seeing my whole family, knowing they were safe. Brought no relief, or sense of ease. Something was wrong. I knew that for sure.
Staring, wide eyed at my mother on the top step of the staircase I saw tears streaming her face, and heard her screeching down the phone.
"She's there! I saw her... please. Come quickly." My mother screamed, but her final words were drowned by her whimpers. With that, my father took the phone, whilst my two sisters eased my mother gently towards the bottom step of the staircase.
Who, did my mother mean? My mind had melted away, making my thought incoherent, as a chill over took my body. Could someone be hurt? Was someone outside?
As if a sudden fire had burst beneath the soles of my feet, I sprinted down the staircase. The confusion was painful, and I needed answers. I approached my dad, who had returned to the front garden.
"Dad, what's ha-." Three sets of hands had grabbed me back from stepping over the threshold.
"Inside Sonny, please. I don't want you to see this." My dad whispered in the most hushed tone, that I'm surprised I heard it.
"Dad?! What's happened?" I began peering around his shoulder, when he swivelled around.
"In the living room NOW SONNY!" my Dad roared and with that, he slammed the door shut behind him.
Turning round, I began eagerly looking for answer within the glistening eyes of the three family members who stood before me. But to no avail, from the second I turned around, I was led to the sofa.
"Sonny. Sonny darling, listen to me." My mother spoke with the utter most kindness, and as I raised my head and saw her tear stained cheeks and red eyes. My thoughts of demanding answers and snapping back vanished. "Sonny, please don't look out the window. I know how unfair it sounds, but just don't. You'll only get upset. Okay? You do understand me, don't you?"
"Yes" I felt disembodied, as my voice rang crystal clear. All I knew was that, I was most definitely looking out that window.
"Okay, I'm going to go help your father. You stay here now." And with one last look at me, she closed the living room door behind her.
Determinedly, I turned round. Gripping the window sill, as though it would offer protection, I eased back the blinds of my bay window.
There, in the middle of the road lay a body, a blaze. Writhing and convulsing. Helpless.
Disappointment and sadness filled my chest. As my jaw tightened, and my eyes pricked, I felt useless. But with a sudden change, I began to feel anger. Hatred so strong, that the grief I should have felt was over powered by a red haze. I was unable to comprehend how such a cruel act could have occurred.
The sirens chimed. And at once, my living room was filled with bright simultaneous flashing lights of blue and red....
SLAM. My father threw this morning's paper down on the table as well as slamming his mug of tea down beside it too.
"Are the police, blind? I mean honestly! Anyone can see the reason behind it!" My father queried.
Picking up the now tea stained paper, I saw the headline.
"HIDDEN NOTE:- REVEALS ALL, Last week, news of the terrible suicide of Tawni Hart, 22 year old mother of two, shocked locals. The loving woman was known as the 'living depiction of a perfect mother'. Ground breaking revelations came today as Tawni's suicide note, was discovered hidden in the back of her spouse's phone. The letter unveils the truth behind, Tawni's reasoning for committing suicide by setting herself a light in her home garage. She believed she felt 'unworthy' and was no good for her family. The sad case has finally come to a close, and our condolences go out to her husband and two young sons for the loss tragic loss."
The red haze that overcame me once again obscured all the surrounding chatter that filled the breakfast room. However, the one difference between this fury and the pain I felt on the night of the incident, was that my anger was both internal directed at me and the neighbouring houses. The sad fact to this whole tragedy came to light mere hours after the death. With neighbour's visiting others, talking about how they all knew Tawni was suicidal, as though it was a regular piece of gossip! The sickening feeling I had been feeling was nothing that could be erased with the counselling offered by police, not something that would dissolve over time. We had all known, that behind Tawni's mask was pain, yet we took no action. As a society we dare to have the complacency to ignore signs. Whether, it is the red light at a junction. Or the raw scars on a woman's wrist.
In a small street, of tight nit neighbours, you expect there to be no secrets. No hidden fear or guilt. But how can you be sure, that all that you see isn't a facade. How can you know, that behind closed doors, there isn't a lie? The answer; you don't. I never will forgive myself for ignoring her husband and his smug smile. The images I see when I close my eyes, that flash, all too vividly are like still slides- my mother breaking down, a bright flame engulfing a body outside the house, never have escaped my sleep, no matter how much I resent seeing them.
