The Worst Night

I whined and grovelled in bed.

“We’ll just go to show our faces and be back before you know it,” said Mum as she kissed my forehead. “Your dinner is near the microwave and I put the medicine on the table”.
The front door shut with a bang. Then again, the faintest sound resonates like a bell when you’re sick.

I snivelled as my nose began to run a bit and put on a grim face. The fever was penetrating through my very eye balls down to my icy toes. It had been three days in this personal hell of a runny nose, cold compresses and constant sneezing and coughing. I waddled out of bed after I heard a grumble from my stomach. Approaching the dining table, I felt a tickle in my nose. I scrunched up my face I gave out a loud sneeze and suddenly, in a flash I was surrounded with blackness.

It happened in the blink of an eye; quick, abrupt and alarming. An unfathomably deafening blow wiped out all the lights in the neighborhood leaving a distant, clouded moon as the only source of brightness. I was unsure whether it was my sneeze or the transformer.
I stood there, frozen, as I heard the fan slowing down to a stop. That’s what you’re always told to do – stay in one place. I couldn’t see a thing, not even my own hands. The power cut, coupled with my horrid fever set an even so unsettling tone to this lonely, chilly night. I thought it would only take a few minutes for the power to return but my stomach grumbled once again and I was not going to stand in one place forever.

So I took a step forward, and then another, only to stub my toe into the edge of a chair or maybe it was the foot of a table. I bit my lip, holding my burning toe as I hopped around like a one legged kangaroo. I hopped quickly to the left and bumped my head into the wall. The extremes of my body were throbbing with a nagging pain which only worsened the situation. I felt my eyes starting to see dim, faded light. I was either about to faint or the rhodopsin in my retina was starting to help me see clearly. The thought of candles struck my mind and I spotted a glistening knob that looked like it belonged to a cabinet. I slowly reached the knob, pulled open the drawer and fumbled for a candle but pricked my finger instead. I frantically wriggled my hand and soon only felt pins and needles swarming at the tips of my fingernails. Frustrated, I decided to abandon this quest for a candle and slammed close the drawer with a thud. As I was about to walk away, I was yanked back, pushing my spine into the knob. I yelled out in anger using all my Fs and Bs. WHY ME WHY ME? I tugged at my sweater’s sleeve that was caught in the drawer. At first I cringed when I heard a rip but then I honestly didn’t have the energy to give a rat’s ass.

Lengthening my hands straight out, I walked closer and closer until I didn’t feel wood under my feet, but marble. I exhaled in relief knowing I had reached the kitchen. The microwave, if I remembered well, was just on my right. Pulling on a small handle, it opened and I took out my plate. Inching forward now I felt wood under my feet once again and groped around until my hand rested upon a flat surface. Using what I perceived as wall, I sank down to the wooden floor. At this point cutlery was not a priority and so I immediately delved into some unknown cold food.

I heard a scrambling at the door that sounded like a key. As the door pushed open the lights came back on just as fast as they had gone off.

“Sweetie we’re back, the neighbour told us about the power cut,” said Mum before her face went sour. “My god, what on earth are you eating?!” My sigh of relief soon turned into a sigh of disgust as I looked down to my plate.

“I told you I left your dinner near the microwave. That’s the raw chicken I left to thaw!”

© 2015 Pia Krishnankutty & springtidevoice. All Rights Reserved


17 thoughts on “The Worst Night

  1. Mahesh Nair says:

    How did the raw chicken taste? I’m curious. If it tastes good we can save time cooking it. You build up the tension nicely, but if you were to fictionalize the piece, how would you end it.

    • misskutts says:

      1. I think it’d taste cold and fleshy with oozing bodily fluids. I wouldn’t recommend it at all!

      2. Actually, this piece was fictional. It would probably end with something like “two upset parents and one upset stomach”

      Thanks for stopping by 🙂

      • Mahesh Nair says:

        I like it — two upset parents and one upset stomach 🙂

        I read somewhere that you are 16. You write beautifully for that age. I was still mastering shoelaces-tying when I was 16.

        Make writing your one and only priority. You will be very successful, trust me.

      • misskutts says:

        Thank you. You don’t understand how much comments like yours motivate young writers like me. We’re fragile and afraid but a little push can often propel us.
        I’ve read quite a few posts on “The Write Might” and admire your effortlessness to write about anything you see. Truly beautiful writing!

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