Alone

      Silence had been the boy’s companion from the moment he came home. He’d been off-line, half-heartedly listening to music, glancing at the door, flinching at the occasional unexpected creak. Hugging his legs, Simon sank headlong into his own world, and it was worth it to hear the front door close behind his father. For a while he was completely free of his bonds.       Once again the smell of cigarettes was in the air. Smoke drifted from the kitchen. His mother could not contain her nerves, and it was only in this simple way that she calmed them. He sank to his knees, fixing his hair.       Simon tried to distance himself from reality, to imagine another world where he would be happy and free. But his thoughts kept returning to what was happening around him. The sound of water from the kitchen, the clatter of dishes, all reminded him that he wasn’t alone. His mother, despite her problems, was trying to keep some stability in their lives.       The boy got out of bed and went to the window. The city looked so peaceful at night… It was disgusting. A kind of illusion covered the boy’s head, even though he knew what horrors lay behind that thin wall. Horrors, his own fears… Just as real. He tried to push the unpleasant thoughts away by taking a deep breath and covering his eyes. When will this all end? — a thought raced through his skull. There was no answer. He wanted to move to another world, where there was no alcoholic father, no smoking problem with his mother, and where he and his friends went on holiday somewhere by the sea or even in a big amusement park.       The hustle and bustle outside took me out of my own thoughts and dreams for a moment and I looked out onto the quiet evening street, lit only by streetlamps. Scolding again, unpleasant….       Some time ago, Simon’s father was a successful engineer in a factory. However, after the factory closed and he was made redundant, he was betrayed by some friends in those weeks and was unable to pursue a career or start a similar industry. Alcohol became his way of escaping from reality and forgetting his problems for an indefinite period of time. Gradually the parties with friends dragged on and drinking became a habit. Dad killed himself, got drunk… He drank more and more, remembering how good he used to be. Brittany tried to help, but to no avail. He wouldn’t hear of her. He became irritable and withdrawn, gradually withdrawing from his family and friends.       Despite all attempts to help, the man kept falling into an abyss from which it was difficult to emerge. Sometimes he would go away for days at a time and return in a terrible state. Each time, Simon and Brittany would wait for him to come back in a terrible state and take a refreshing shower. Each time Simon was terrified.       Seeing his father drink himself into oblivion, lose himself, was unbearably painful for the boy. Brittany’s hope that her husband would get away from her son when he was home and drunk was slowly fading. She wanted to tear herself apart just looking at what the loving man had become. All he had left of his past were a few friends who gave him an excuse to drink away the unpleasant memories.       Brittany was good… Only ruined by the acrid smoke that filled her lungs every time she got nervous and picked up a cigarette.       It was only at the beginning of the first night that the front door slammed. No matter how hard he tried, the man couldn’t get to his feet and walked silently to the bathroom, bumping into things in the hallway and almost collapsing on the floor. Sobered a little by the shock, he got up, grunting and staggering slightly, and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. Once again, a small mess of fallen toothbrushes and soap.       As he lay down on the bed next to her, placed his hand on her thigh and began to caress her, she whispered, partially covered by the blanket:       — Let’s not do it now, eh?       — What do you mean, not now, darling? — He objected rather loudly and drunkenly, attacking her body again as lovingly as he could. Brittany had to push away the foul-smelling face of alcohol and, trying to hide her squeamishness, she brushed her husband’s hand away.       — Not now — it’s not now. I want to sleep, so you do it… You do it to yourself. — Turning around and giving the man an angry look, the woman lay back as casually as she could and covered her head.       Angrily, the man rolled over on his side before quickly falling asleep from the alcohol he had consumed. Brittany couldn’t sleep for a while, listening to her husband’s breathing and the rustling on his side of the bed to make sure everything was all right. She sighed softly as she looked at the photograph on the bedside table in the moonlight. The happy family, so quickly destroyed by a week’s worth of drinking… She looked with warmth and awe at their family photograph, where they were all together, smiling, side by side. Leaving the photo on the bedside table, Brittany wrapped herself in the blanket and didn’t sleep for a long time.       Simon, who was still sitting at the table staring at the book he’d read twice before, was once again distracted by idle thoughts. He couldn’t concentrate. The light from the lamp partially filled the room with a cold, harsh glow, casting shadows on the walls of certain objects that made his whole body shudder at the side glance.       Closing the book, the boy opened the window wide and drew the curtains before lying down in his bed, watching the surprisingly bright moon that night. He stared at it for a few minutes before falling into the gentle abyss of sleep.