thoughts from the raft. #1

she stood in the middle of the park near the fountain. she looked up at the buildings as the sun descended behind them. she wondered how she could get to the roof of the tallest building. a couple of weeks later she had worked it out. as she stood staring down at the street below, she thought about what the tiny people below were thinking. where were they going. were they happy. were they filled with thoughts of murdrous intent like she sometimes was. the sounds of the city drifted up to her. she wanted to fly. she wanted to fly like a bird. of course she knew she couldn't. she heard once somewhere that they'd have to scrape you up off the pavement with a shovel. she just hoped she died quickly. that night lying in bed next to the snoring mass she thought she loved, she wondered when she should learn to fly. she didn't cry anymore when he hit her. she didn't even cry when he hit her so hard that she lost her baby. now she knows it was for the best. she couldn't leave him because she was scared. she was scared of being alone and unwanted. at least he wanted her, if only for something to hit. but he would find someone else. someone to replace her. men like him always did.

she heard sobbing through the thin walls. she heard the woman tell the man that he disgusted her. that she didn't want him to touch her ever ever again. that she didn't want him anywhere near her. she told him that she was sick of the sight of him. the man said he was sorry. he said that he needed to do it. that he didn't know who he was when he was with her. the woman said she didn't care. there was a thump and then nothing. except the sound of the sobbing.

the bus drove past this derelict building. painted on the side was a sign that said: slightly damaged chickens for sale. i thought 'what? more damaged than having their feet and head cut off, their guts ripped out and having all their feathers plucked from their bodies you mean?'

she was tired of being hit. she could never go out or cover the bruises. nothing she ever did was good enough for him. he'd tell her that she was useless. good for only one thing. sometimes she believed him. sometimes she didn't. once she tried to overdose. he called her selfish. he asked her what she thought he would do without her. she gave him a smart answer and he hit her. and he hit her and he hit her. when he fell asleep drunk she set the bed on fire and walked out the door. no one knows where she is.

it's the middle of the night.the baby is crying. she forces herself out of bed. she feeds the baby. the baby cries. she cuddles the baby. the baby cries. she changes the baby's nappy. the baby continues to cry. she walks the floor with the baby. this precious life she holds in her arms. she coos to the baby. the baby cries. it screws up it's little face and cries until it's face goes red. she sings to the baby. all night she walks the floor rocking and singing and cradling and soothing and wishing she was someplace else. the baby cries. she pleads with the baby to stop crying. tha baby continues to cry. she cries too. finally as the sun peaks over the horizon the baby falls asleep. she dares not to breathe as she places back it in it's crib. as her head hits the pillow she closes her eyes. the phone rings. the baby cries.

he took his brother's hand in his. led him to their safe place. under the bed in the backroom. playing with matchbox cars, hiding. hiding from her. she was drinking. again. she did that a lot. his brother started to cry. he tried to comfort him. four years old and scared of his mother. what a life. she drank. and yelled. and raged around the house calling their names. cajoling them to come on out. he fell for it once, but never again. he was deaf in one ear. it was her fault. she said everything was his fault. his father left because of him. if he had been a better boy she wouldn't drink. they could hear things breaking. they could hear her swearing. after a while it went quiet. she had fallen asleep.