A Night to Hide

Chapter 1: The Ending of Us

Looking around the room, it was almost funny. Almost. We had spent months trying to make our one-bedroom apartment the perfect place to call our temporary home. I had meticulously bought the furniture most suited to our small living quarters. Surprisingly, I made it work. A three seater couch, a big TV, two stools to tuck under the kitchen bench, and bits and pieces here and there. I couldn't say I hated our apartment - being able to watch TV whilst cooking was certainly a plus - but I also couldn't say I loved it - the lack of separation and distance from our neighbours was unnerving, but after all, that's the non-costly price you pay for living in the city. Our cosy apartment was the best we could get and we made it work. We made it home.

In a matter of minutes, our perfect ideal had been shattered. Literally too - China plates had been pulled from the display cabinet and chunks of the ceramic dishes were scattered across the floor; the cabinet doors were now single sets of framework, the glass in piercing shards; the set of kitchen knives were sunk into the far wall near the TV, after being hurtled through the kitchen and lounge room; the oak stool lay in pieces on the floor, its destroying over and done with.

The room was a mess, but all I could do was stare blankly. Now, after everything that had happened, after all the grieving and crying and hurting, I felt empty.

I broke from my trance when his figure slowly stepped towards me, and I made eye contact with him. "I- I'm sorry Claire," he murmured.

"Sorry isn't good enough. Look what you've done! Look what you've done to me! You did this - all of it," I said, before standing from the ground, walking towards the door, and exiting for good.

But was it for good? Was this really the end?