Behind the House

The front of the house was for normal things, like cars pulling up, and saying goodbye before going to work, or saying goodbye forever when she moved out and took the kids. It was part of normal life.

But the back of the house was a different story altogether. It faced the woods and I never felt safe there. Even during day time, when you stare into the woods there is something looking back at you. Something that reminds you.

It got much worse after she moved out. I took to drinking more and more and often woke up in the middle of the night, when everything was still. I could feel the back of the house calling me to step out. To stand in the yard. To walk into the dark.

The back of the house opened into the woods and there was no human life for miles and miles. It always reminded me what I was going to become. Still and cold like the roots, and blind like they are, deep in the ground. The woods reminded me what I was. What we all were, before we let out the first scream that broke the silence. We were all dead before we were born. Forever dead.

Posted by: Paweł Kowaluk