I can pin point the exact moment my life fell apart.
10:27 AM. October 13. I was sketching on a large canvas laid out on the floor.
He was yelling about something she was standing there taking it. I could hear the rise and fall of his voice through my headphones. I looked down at my phone, 10:00 AM. I turned the volume up the last few notches.
I could still hear him. Getting angrier and angrier. I didn’t even know what it was about this time. The kids, the bills, pet peeves, anything seemed to set him at her throat these days.
I’d taken to calling it the Jack Torrance Effect. The only difference was there was no supernatural Overlook to blame, no alcohol withdrawal.
I was still waiting for the booming sound of a Roque mallet hitting the thin plaster walls.
I look down at the canvas. I’ve snapped my pencil against it. There’s no way to work with those two screaming next door. I pull my headphones out, the time is 10:15 AM. I grit my teeth and bang on the wall.
“STOP BEING IRRATIONAL AND JUST SHUT IT!”
“MIND YOUR OWN BUISNESS!!”
“I WOULD IF I COULD HEAR MYSELF THINK!”
“GLADLY IF YOU’D SHUT YOUR BIG FRICKEN MOUTH!”
I put my headphones back in. 10:20 AM. It was five minutes before something else set my symbolic Mr. Torrance off.
I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. I threw a shirt on attempted to rub some of the graphite off my finger tips and unfolded my numb legs.
I popped my jaw as I reached my door. The time, 10:26 AM.
“Honey I’ve been making dinner this whole time how would I have gotten to your phone?” A small voice stammers out.
“I DON’T KNOW WHY DON’T YOU EXPLAIN THAT TO ME?”
Ah so it was a phone this time. There’s a crash then a scraping noise. A drawer being violently pulled from its casing.
I pound on the door.
“OI YOU TWO TOSSERS IT’S A BLOODY SUNDAY COULD YOU PLEASE HOLD OFF FOR ONE DAY?”
The door is yanked open the hinges groaning. Door knob jumping.
“WHY DON’T YOU HOLD OFF?”
There’s a metallic click. 10:27 AM.