An abstract composition of blue, brown, and yellow resembling a window with moonlight coming in.

M. Cendrowska

It took him many hours to fall asleep that night. There was a feeling of uneasiness that he just couldn’t explain. Perhaps he was too conscious of his surroundings. The air was just… too stuffy. The old windows rattled with each gust of wind. Their relentless rattling almost gave him a headache. And the moon.. the moon was too bright. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel its ceaseless staring on him. As if giving it a challenge, he glared back at it.

Eventually, he got too tired to upkeep the rivalry. Exhausted and irritated, he tried to ignore everything that was around him. Apart from her. At that point, the only thing that gave him a grip of reality was her breathing. Her steady, rhythmic breath. He managed to blot out the stale, stuffy air around him, the sound of the windows, the moon itself. He put all his focus onto her breath. For a while it worked. He managed to fully forget about the heaviness of the air, the sound of the windows, and the moon. Now, at last, a sense of security could intertwine with peace.

Suddenly, her breathing changed. It became less rhythmic, less clear, distinctly heavier. To him, it sounded as if she was gasping for air. Naturally, he became worried, switched himself to a state of high alert. But she kept on sleeping. After a few-minutes observation, he concluded that her life was not in danger. Her body wasn’t playing tricks on her. So as he tried to fall asleep, once again, he focused on her breath.

This time, there was no peace. As he listened, he grew more and more annoyed. He was annoyed by the loudness. He was annoyed by the heaviness. And he was annoyed that she couldn’t maintain the rhythm. He stared at her, offended. Offended by her breath and offended by her tranquil state. There was nothing tranquil about him. How dare she sleep while the moon blinded him? How selfish! He worked every day to provide for her every need, to make sure that she has a roof over her head. He is the one who was keeping her alive. She sat at home doing God knows what. And now, as they lie in bed together, she has the audacity to disturb his peace. To show no gratitude. It is time for him to rest.

His hand started searching for her throat. Despite the moon being so bright, it gave him no guidance, no aid. When he finally found her neck, he let his hand rest there. The warmth it gave struck him. It felt like an electric shock going through his body and mind. But his attention quickly gave in to her breathing again. It made him furious as he crushed her throat with full force. She didn’t have time to let any noise out.

The room became still. Nothing dared let any sound out after what had just happened. Nothing dared to irritate him and give him a challenge. As he felt nothing and heard nothing, he turned on his side and closed his eyes to see nothing. With the gloomy feeling of nothing, he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.