My Hole

Two small slits in the wall allowed sunlight to stream through, penetrating the dark room, allowing the deep red walls to come to life where it fell. Hauling myself from bed I let the blinds drop, returning me to darkness. Heavy-eyed, I light my candles sitting in classic coca-cola bottles. Stumbling back to my bed I wait, I know someone will come, descending into my world, my sanctuary. Sure enough, I hear the thump-thump-thump but I can’t be bothered to sit up again. My bed is my cradle, the blanket soft enough to lull me into another world again. Then came the rapping on the door, sending shivers up my spine, my eyelids had begun to fall again.

“How long have you been in bed for?”

“Not sure.”

“Your movie loop hasn’t changed since I was here days ago!”

“Oh.”

He headed towards those slits, ‘Oh no, here comes the light’ I thought. Then he made his way through the sea of clothing, blankets, pillows and God knows what else to dig up my guitar. Music is fine but it’s the fingered actions, sliding up and down the frets and strumming along that catch my eye. He plays for a few minutes until the sounds of Dewy Fin ranting about “the man” throws off the rhythm.

“I’m taking that God-awful thing until you get up, even if that means days.”

My only response is cocooning myself, maybe when I break out I’ll be a beautiful butterfly. But butterflies don’t live underground so I guess they would die down here.

He set to work, one thing after another until my red carpet showed through.

“Riley, I hate this 6-feet under mentality. You don’t live in a crypt.”

“Yet. Can’t you let me rest in peace?”

I guess that was the last straw because next thing I knew I was out of my blanket, over his shoulder and being brought up to the world of the living. I tried to scream but nothing came out, the light and new air invaded so quickly.