Under the Stars, In the Dead of the Night

The sun had long since died, a golden orb sinking into a sapphire horizon only to be replaced by a suffocating darkness, interspersed with silver ribbons of moonlight. One such stream softly filtered in through a baby blue curtain and fell onto dully polished wood. It lit the childishly decorated bedroom just enough for Conner to see his abandoned toy cars beyond the end of his bed. 1

It was a typical six-year-old's room: a curious mix between the soft woody tones of toddler years – deep teddy bear rug; traditionally antique furniture, and the bright colours, toys and independence of a 'big boy'. A poster of a Hotwheels car was on the cupboard door, and the Lego blocks that had been painstakingly put together one by one to form a castle were now abandoned on the soft navy carpet. A shoe was wedged under the slightly open bottom drawer of the dresser, a testament to Conner's attempt to dress himself. ***The once neat pile of books lay in a heap.***2

A normal enough room, in a normal enough house on a normal enough street. 3

But not everything was as generic as it seemed: normal was but an illusion; a dream. But nobody outside knew that. To them the family was all smiles and happiness. 4

The doona was pulled up to Conner's ears – he was a big boy, he wasn't going to hide under it, but he snuggled down an inch deeper as another yell broke the silence. The wooden door was closed, but the harsh glare of the lounge room light managed to tag along with the noise and sneak under the barrier. 5

“He's old enough to know better!” The raised breathless voices echoed in his ears.6

“He's just a kid, Thomas!”7

“You should have taught him better, then we wouldn't be in this mess!”8

“Oh, so this is my fault now?”9

Sometimes, when they were fighting, he would sneak out of his room and creep down the hall, like Sam the Spy did on TV. But he was lots better than Sam, because he never got caught. He didn't have to be watching to know that the muscle in Dad's jaw would be twitching and that the man's eyes would be ignited with a spark of anger and malice. That his Mum would be clenched a few feet away: rebellious but dominated as she tried to stand up for both him and herself. 10

“Yeah! It is!”11

“Well, he's your son too, you know. I-”12

The sound of fist on cheek echoed through the house, cutting Conner's mother off. The little boy in dinosaur pyjamas didn't need to be watching to know that his mother would be spending an extra few minutes in the mirror the next morning to cover the bruise. Again.13

“Shut up. Go to bed.” His father's rough voice demanded, as Conner heard the electronic buzz of the waking TV. After a moment, his mothers footsteps softly faded at the same time as a hiss of air signaled that the evening had only just begun for Thomas. 14

The little boy sighed as closed his eyes to stop the tears running down his cheeks – crying was for babies. Mum had said Dad wasn't going to drink anymore.15

But then, she'd also said that they weren't going fight again, ever, a bunch of times, and they always did. 16

Always.17

He thought it was called a lie. Dad had got him good when he had told lies a month ago about the marbles he'd lost, and he wondered why Dad wasn't mad with Mum for lying. It didn't seem very fair. 18

With an uneasy feeling in his stomach, even weirder than when he'd eaten a whole three bowls of icecream and chocolate sauce at Jimmy's birthday party, Conner rolled over so his back was facing the door, and drifted off to sleep.19

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~20

His door slammed open, leaving a mark on the white wall.21

“Get up!” The voice was loud and the words were slurred. 22

As Conner slowly opened his eyes, he saw the sillhouette of his father, lit by the bright hallway light. Suddenly he was wide awake. But then, having your heart want to explode out of your chest can do that. With a strange mix of dread and acceptance sinking low in his stomach, Conner tried to scramble out of the doona that had mysteriously wrapped itself around his feet.23

He wasn't fast enough, and soon the strong arms that had never thrown a football with him, or pushed him on a swing were tugging him roughly out of bed and against the bedroom wall. 24

“Where is it?”25

Conner looked up at his Dad with wide blue eyes. 26

“Where is it!” Louder this time, and punctuated with rough push against the wall.27

“He doesn't know, Tom.” It was but a whisper. 28

Conner's eyes flicked to his mother like a survivors to a rescue rope. She was standing in the hall, a pink dressing gown hanging off her frame. Conner realised that she looked tired. Really tired. He didn't realise it wasn't from having a bad nights sleep. 29

“Stay the hell out of this. I though I told you to go to bed.” The statement had a threatening tone. With a sigh of resignation and frustration, she pulled her gown tighter around her and stepped back. It was like the train wreck she couldn't do anything about.30

His father's beer laced breath assaulted him again. “Where'd you put it, ya little thief?”31

The older mans fingers dug into Conner's shoulders, leaving red marks that were quickly turning blue-black under the cotton shirt. The frightened boy knew better than to squirm away from them.32

“I-I don't know, sir.”33

A short bitter scoff left his fathers lips, and he stared Conner straight in the eye. “If you don't tell me where you put my keys then I'm gonna make you regret it!”34

Conner's heart skipped a beat, and then started working double time, as if to make up for it. He'd hidden the chain of silver keys under the sink when he'd gone to the bathroom, in the hopes the drunken man wouldn't be able to go and get more scotch.35

He'd hesitated too long.36

The work hardened knuckles of his fathers fist slammed into his stomach, doubling him over on his bedroom floor. 37

In the bright light of the hallway, his mother raised a hand to her mouth and covered a sob. Another bad memory played out on the shadowed, innocently belied backdrop, as she was powerless to protect her son.38

“Where is it!” Now it was a full yell, probably loud enough to wake the old lady next door. Mum would have to apologise about the TV again.39

“U-Under the s-sink.”40

A booted foot connected with his side in anger, knocking the wind out of his lungs. 41

His father weaved his way out of the boy's room, muttering under his breath. 42

Conner's mother bowed her head as he passed and then rushed into the room and helped Conner up. Unshed tears lapped at the corners of his eyes as he held one arm across his ribs. She softly pulled him into a hug and sat down on the abandoned bed. 43

“Is it over?” he whispered. This was their routine; all they knew. Thomas would bulldoze them, then she'd be left to deal with the pieces as every time her son asked her if it was over. She wasn't sure if he meant for now or for good, but she had always been a glass half full find of girl. 44

“Yeah, Connie. It's over.”45

With that she began rocking him like she used to before all this had begun, some five and a half years ago, and started to hum under her breath – a time old tune that had no name but held much meaning. Hushed words soon replaced the melody. 46

“Under the stars, 47

in the dead of the night, 48

when the moon sends us down, 49

silver ribbons of light,50

The new day begins,51

good riddance the last,52

and everything prior 53

will stay in the past.54

A chance for redemption55

each day a new start56

forget yesterday, 57

it will rip you apart58

And as new dawn breaks,59

just remember but this60

you can't be destroyed by a 61

word or a fist.”62

Long after the car had skidded out of the driveway, spraying gravel onto the lawn, she sat in the strange mix of light and dark, rocking her sleeping son against her chest, as her desperate tears fell on his curly blonde mop.63

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~--~-~-~-~-~--~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-64

The world seemed too bright as Conner's mother drifted back into consciousness. She closed her eyes, and groaned in protest as she rolled over. Reminder to self: don't move. Unfortunately, reality closed in a little too quickly and with a begrudging groan, she tried to extricate herself from her son without waking him. She walked into the bedroom en suite to have a shower.65

Then it hit her: Thomas wasn't home.66

The doorbell rang.67

With a strange sense of trepidation, she walked down the stairs, tension rising with each step. Smoothing her wild hair a little and convincing herself she was being silly, she swung open the heavy door.68

“Mrs Hardy?”69

The trepidation returned doubled. “Y-Yes?”70

The two men in blue and white uniforms wore matching looks of reluctant professionalism. “I'm Constable Graham and this is my partner, Constable Wilson. Can we come in?”71

She didn't have to listen to their pity filled tones as they informed her that her husband had been killed in a car accident. That he'd killed a mother and a child returning with their family from a holiday. She just curled a hand around a wet tissue and stared off into space, tears swimming in her frozen eyes.72

It was impossible.73

They were wrong.74

He couldn't be gone forever.75

She didn't notice the men exchange pointed looks at the bruise on her cheek, didn't see Conner timidly creeping down the stairs. 76

She was...numb. Not filled with despair, nor happiness despite the fact he was finally gone. He wouldn't be towering over them anymore, hurting Conner, hurting her. He wouldn't be there period.77

She dimly remembered seeing the policemen out, but couldn't place how she'd ended up on the couch with Conner, explaining that Daddy wouldn't be coming home. Her heart had broken as she'd seen the mixed look in his eyes: he knew as well as she that this turn of events had its positives. 78

But what would they do? How would they make ends meet? Thomas had stopped her getting a job; driven away her friends; alienated her family. She had nobody. Just the little boy with big blue eyes and a heartbreaking smile crying in her lap. 79

An uncertain future.80

A painful past.81

Conner looked up at his mother. With the outside of his hand he brushed away her tears and began singing in the way only a child can.82

“Under the stars, 83

in the dead of the night, 84

when the moon sends us down, 85

silver ribbons of light,”86

She tried to smile at him. She didn't know why she was so upset at the death of the man who had hurt her so much. She joined in at the second verse.87

All too soon though, the song ended and the room was left quiet.88

She broke it with a whisper. “I love you Connie. Everything is going to be okay.”89

He looked up at her, wise beyond his years. “Is it over?”90

“Yeah. It's over. For good.”91

And a sad smile marked the end of an era and the beginning of uncertainty. It really was finally over.

Author notes

"Writing is the art of words"

How true

I chose the words option (number 1 I believe). In my story are the words: whisper, dream, illusion, breathless, forever, lies, smiles

"Snuggly Bear"

Alright, for Taylor, I am saying something about cats: I own two, flowers: I seem to be able to kill them rather than grow them, and twins: when I was young I wished I was a twin. Oh, and I'm a girl. I think that was all you wanted...

For Ein Wary Fali's contest, I have put three *'s around the sentence you wanted included.

Alright, Contest 'Get Inspired'- I chose two lines: I wake in the night to find there's no one there but me (kind of a indicator of what is to come/comes in at the end) and 'I feel so alone, heart-strings pulled on broken bone' (she is sad about him dying yet he has already broken her heart)

A contest entry

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    : Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have 0. (?) (Line numbers)
    Ratings:

Comments

1 - 25 of 25

  • CallMeWhenUrRich gold member
    April 17

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    This piece has a lovely flow. I just loved the descriptions. They were very vivid.
    It was very lovely yet sad and slightly depressing for me. It really gripped me.
    A great job.
    I absolutely loved it.
    Three applauses!


  • Camii
    March 8
    Edit | Reply
    i almost cried when i read this..you have talent..if this was a book..id buy 12 copies!


  • Fallen Star
    December 8, 2008

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    I love the flow of this peice. The vocabulary is gorgeous. The first verse really got me hooked, simple, but... at the same time, there's a lot going on. This piece... I will honestly say... really, really got me. I hate abuse, but it's a reality. Oveall this made me think too hard. Thank you so much for sharing this. I loved it.
    There are a few minor mistakes however that may take away from the entire piece: 'pyjamas' needs to be 'pajamas', 'survivors' needs an aposrtophe, 'realised' needs to be 'realized', and 'nights' needs an apostrophe as well; 'though' was probably suppose to be 'thought', 'mans' needs an apostrophe also, as does 'fathers' on lines 32 and 37. 'Apologise' is 'apologize', and 'find' is probably 'kind'.
    Keep up the wonderful work, and thank you again for sharing this.

    ~Alix &hearts♥



  • LivingDeadGirl56
    November 29, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Beautiful, but terribly sad and unsettling. Lovely descrptions and you made even the abuse parts kind of poetic. It made me angry, as well as sad. When people hurt kids, it's just visceral to me. This was very well done. The beginning was snothing short of magnificent. Your story made me cry, which is very hard to do...This was really good.


  • Mads
    August 29, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    That was really touching. It was so vivid! This story really got to me! It was sad, though, when the dad had killed a mother and a son because of his driving. So sad. Great job! Your really talented!


  • tallblondie gold member
    May 31, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Fabulous descriptions, especially those that you opened the story with;
    'The sun had long since died, a golden orb sinking into a sapphire horizon only to be replaced by a suffocating darkness, interspersed with silver ribbons of moonlight. One such stream softly filtered in through a baby blue curtain and fell onto dully polished wood.' - this painted a rich setting for your story and allows the reader to truly 'see'. Your characterizations are complex and realistic, and the interaction are what infuses this piece with emotion. Though the subject matter (alcolism/abuse) is common, you have moved this piece beyond the mere accounting of the tale.

    Thank you for your entry and good luck!


  • DuchessAura of Brie silver member
    May 16, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    This is a very good story. The one part that really got to me was that when he was in the car accident he had killed two other innocent people. A sort of tragic bittersweet ending. Its sadly true that there are people like this, and its very tragic how the son is punished for trying to prevent things from getting worse. Very creative use of the lines, thanks for entering.


  • potaytee
    May 11, 2008

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    For the contest 'background': Can you please tell me how your background relates to your story? I'm asking everyone this so don't worry, I have an idea for myself I just want an explaination from the author. Thank you.


  • Georgia La Mariposa
    May 9, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Wow this is fantastic really emotional and really reached into my heart


  • Memoirs of a Girl
    May 5, 2008

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    Such a bitter-sweet ending. Although anyone from the outside would say that they'd be happy that he was gone, that doesn't erase the fact that his family loved him, no matter how hatefully he treated them. So very sad, this story brought back a lot of painful memories for me. It was excellently written, thank you so much for entering.
    ~Memoirs


  • Jenni-Wren
    April 27, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Aww, that was so sad. Wonderfully written - I was intrigued from the very start. I do think that you should continue this, it was brilliant! Well done!
    And thank you for entering the contest.


  • Oddems.
    April 26, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Was an excellent story and really touched my heart. I loved the part of how connor sang to her...only a child can know when. Keep writing and I do belive if you wanted to, you could make this a novel. Just an idea.

    beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.


    • Paragonz Shadow
      April 26, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      Thanks for the comment

      I had never even thought about expanding this into a few parts or even a novel...

      Food for thought


  • The Golden Son
    April 23, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Ahhh, what a heartbreaker. This type of thing seldom does it for me, but the inclusion of the song and the uncertainty of their future really help here. I like to think Conner has potential to be a great man. At least a tough one, heh.


  • CChi4456ChiC
    April 19, 2008

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    wow.. u deserve all of your trophies for this beauty.. i love it.. its amazig. Its very sad, yet you wrote it baeutifully, and the title already poulled me in... and I really like it.... and you should write more stories like this...a nd i'll just keeping goin and goin... cause i like it, and... okay.. i'l leaave... god work tho!


  • CorvusCornix
    April 19, 2008

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    Dear God, what talent! Your style, language and imagery is absolutely superb - you write as flawlessly and as beautifully as an experienced author twice your age! This story had me drawn in from the first sentence, your description was so intelligent and well informed I did not just feel like I was there, I felt as if I was Connie. The theme is a classic, tackled by a lot of writers, but you have a brilliant take on it that gives it a whole new paint-job.

    The twist might have been predictable, but I was not thinking about where the story would go at all, I was trapped in between your characters. Your detail is so perfect.

    My only criticism is extremely minor - paragraph 29 - survivors should have an apostrophe s. Also, the dressing gown hanging from her 'frame' instantly brought imagery of her standing next to a frame, so perhaps use a word in front of it such as 'slight' frame.

    I can not rave about how much I enjoyed this enough, thank you so much for putting it out there. Whatever you do, just keep writing.
    - CC


  • Laura-Critchley
    March 24, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Wow... I can't believe you're only 13. You write so maturely and your grammar etc. is beyond most people that are your age.

    I'm very impressed.

    By the way... I'm not saying 13 year olds can't write... I was just amazed by the fact that someone so young could write such a mature piece!

  • Laura-Critchley
    March 24, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    You made me cry. Seriously. This piece was so sad and so realistic. I really hope none of this was written from personal experience. I look forward to reading more of your work.

    Good luck in all your writing and the contests you've entered this piece in.

    Take care, Laura... aka Maliha.

    • Paragonz Shadow
      March 24, 2008
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      No, I didn't write it from personal experience...but it is true for somebody, somewhere. Thanks for the kind words

  • peace9420
    March 23, 2008
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    hartbreakingly amazing

    this is amazing. anything else would be chatter about a piece that stands up for itself. great work


  • Mieta
    March 20, 2008
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    Hm...this was interesting...though so short you were able to cram in a lot. This is very well done.


  • penny1
    March 19, 2008

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    Wow

    It's pretty hard to stretch such a short moment in time into 1700 words. Very well done! I loved the idea...a perfect example of a good short story. You have a gift with grammar as well. I hope I can find time to read some more of your work soon!

    beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 4, ending: 4, dialog: 5, characters: 4.

    • Paragonz Shadow
      March 19, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      Thanks so much for the feedback and the little yellow clappy people . I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I'd be honoured if you read my other stuff as well

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