A Type of Human Bondage
I\u2019m reading on my Kindle app on my iPhone on a Tuesday night. It\u2019s around 11:30 and all is deliciously quiet. The well known book I\u2019m reading I\u2019ve read twice before but the main character never fails to charm me. He\u2019s a young boy born with a club foot. I settle into it, my mind imagining all that\u2019s going on with the boy in the United Kingdom of old.
It\u2019s midnight when I bookmark where I\u2019ve stopped reading and turn off the light of my iPhone. I
sink down in my bed and shut my eyes while listening to the neighbor\u2019s dog bark and another buddy of his barking back. I fall asleep.
I\u2019m awakened by a noise somewhat louder than the neighbor\u2019s dog. It takes me a while to realize that someone is inside my house. I\u2019m not afraid but I suddenly feel myself sweating. Then a sudden fear makes me unable to throw the blanket off me. Instead, I curl myself up in the fetal position and try to identify what\u2019s going on downstairs.
Is it one person or two? It obviously has to be male. He is opening drawers in the kitchen and I hear a crash of what sounds like my silverware falling to the floor. My heart is doing ricochets in my chest.
What can they be looking for? I don\u2019t have anything that\u2019s worth much.
The sweat is rolling off me under the covers.
Now they\u2019re opening closets kind of loudly. They must not know I\u2019m home. I wonder if my neighbors can hear.
Just in case, I slowly lower myself off the bed and onto the floor, but none too soon. They\u2019re coming up the stairs!
God, what an idiot you are! You should\u2019ve called 9-1-1 while they were down there!
When I hear them in the guest room, I quietly slide myself under the bed and lay there in the dust, listening to the sound of my heart pounding. I hear them opening more drawers and the closet.
What the hell are they looking for?
I can\u2019t take being under this bed much longer. My eyes are watering and I have a powerful urge to sneeze.
God! You should\u2019ve listened to your mother and cleaned under the bed once a week!
Damnit! I can tell they\u2019ve made a mess of the guest room.
What\u2019m I gonna do if I sneeze?
I try quietly gulping air, which is not easy.
They enter my bedroom and switch on the light. I freeze. The cleats on his Nike-clad feet make it easy to track where he\u2019s at: first, my desk.
Oh shit, my laptop!
Oh, shit, my diary!!
Right now, under my bed, I\u2019m gripped by shame, sweat, and a powerful urge to sneeze all at the same time. I have never felt so helpless.
The cleated Nikes make a slow turnaround in my bedroom and whoever it is says something unintelligible.
From outside, I can hear a whistle. The cleats near the window and I can picture whoever it is signaling to his buddy, the rat bastard.
They\u2019re both rat bastards!
Just like a man, the rat bastard inside my house leaves my light on after he leaves my bedroom and downstairs I can hear him breaking more things as I imagine him leaving my house.
My fear has been drowned out by anger. So I slide myself out from under my bed and I sneeze loudly.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A Type of Human Bondage I\u2019m reading on my Kindle app on my iPhone on a Tuesday night. It\u2019s around 11:30 and all is deliciously quiet. The well known book I\u2019m reading I\u2019ve read twice before but the main character … Continue reading