He then changed the subject and told me in an excited manner that he had just finished his editorial about my fictional D.C. bureaucrat, Charley Dart. “I raked that bastard through the coals!” he said proudly. “After this issue is published, he’ll never work in Washington again!”
“Good work Sidney!” I was actually proud of him.
Sidney told me to keep up the good work and hoped to see me in the office that coming Monday. I told him that I looked forward to coming back. Yes, I thought, I could go back to work if I could just maintain an alcohol-induced high.
Since that night when the police came to my neighbor’s apartment, the bathroom light didn’t go on too often, or at least I wasn’t looking for it anymore. I had lost much of my lust for that tooth-brushing beauty ever since I saw her being abused by her boyfriend. Violence often takes the heart out of romance.
But I did see the light go on in the bathroom one last time. I was sitting in the dark in my kitchen late one night while sipping some tea before going to bed. I decided to look down my window and I saw their bathroom light on. She was doubled over as she vomited into the sink. She was in her underwear and I quickly noticed she had a few more bruises on her face and arms. Her whole body trembled as she heaved. I wondered if her boyfriend was poisoning her. She cupped some water with her hands from the running water and rinsed her mouth. Her boyfriend came into the bathroom and swung his arms with violent gestures. He looked furious. In a rough manner, he threw a towel that hit her in the face. After he stormed out of the room, she slowly dried her face with the towel and walked out, shutting the light behind her.
I hated this man for abusing her. I hated her for staying with him. I thought the only thing that could save them was fire. A raging fire that wipes the past away. A blazing fire that forces one to make a new start. A new life. For them. For me.
© Copyright Wawzenek 2013