Post by FicWriter on Dec 21, 2008 4:15:33 GMT 10
Baby Boy
(A series of ficlets written for 100 Situations on Live Jourrnal.)
Chapter 1 of 3
by JD
It had been one of those weeks where neither he nor Sam had seemed to connect on any level. They had argued too much, or she had argued and he had listened, willing to do what she wanted in order to bring about peace. For whatever reasons their work schedules had ended up as polar opposites which meant what little they did see of each other not spent arguing, had been left to hellos and good-byes as they passed to and from work, or mumbled conversations exchanged through interrupted sleep. He was sure this was going to be another of those as he caught what sounded at first like a television left on too loud, then more like conspirator's whispers outside the door.
With a sigh Luka rolled away from the sound and pulled his pillow tighter to him, hoping to reclaim the depth of sleep the noises had stolen. The creak of the door and a childlike giggle broke the new-found silence only to be quickly muffled, and in his mind, amid the tangled threads of sleep, he knew that it couldn't be Alex, because Sam would have taken him to school on her way to work. He knew too that he should open his eyes, but in doing so he'd also be acknowledging things that he knew couldn't be there and so he ignored it.
Drawing the comforter over his shoulder he let the sounds recede as he felt himself being pulled back down again into darkness. It wasn't easy, but he finally convinced himself he could dismiss it to so many things, neighbors, noise from the street, a television left on. He just needed more sleep, that was all, and before long he did.
The shadows in the room had shifted when he stirred again, the disconcerting feeling of something not right pulling him closer to wakefulness. He lay unmoving a moment more before he felt the hairs on his neck rise and with it came that eerie feeling of one being watched. Aware that it might be anything or anyone, he felt his body tense and he forced himself to remain still a moment longer before hesitantly easing one eye open. The gasp left his throat before he could stop it as did the answering giggle just before the dark head, with it's telltale cowlick, disappeared from view on the other side of the mattress.
"Marko..." He almost threw himself across the bed to reach the edge, desperate for another glimpse of the small boy that he knew couldn't be there, but unwilling to take the chance just in case some miracle might have occurred. No one, he released an anguished cry as he fell forward onto the sheets, had he really expected that his son would be there? After so many years that the boy would be just as he'd last seen him? But, he had seen him, heard him...he'd been awake when he'd seen him, it hadn't been a dream. Lifting his head Luka glanced about the room, he knew it was impossible as well as he knew his own name. Pushing himself up on one arm he rubbed at his face with his free hand, as improbable as it was, he knew what he had seen. How could he not know those dark eyes? How many times in the past had he woke to find his small son staring patiently into his face waiting for him to wake after long hours at the hospital so he could, "play with his Tata"?
Pushing what little of the comforter that still covered him aside, he sat up, then swung his legs over the side of the bed so he could sit on the edge. The experience had left him shaken, so much so that even now he could still feel the effects deep inside of him. There was no point in trying to sleep again, not while his head was whirling, turning itself this way and that as it tried to make sense from things it could not.
With that decision made he stood and started for the bathroom, he would shower, get something to eat, it would make all the difference. He talked himself through each step as if that alone would guarantee the success of the actions. If he stuck to a normal routine nothing else would happen he told himself...this would work, it had to. He was past this, had been past this for years, and despite what he thought he had seen and heard earlier he wasn't going to slip back into the way things had been.
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully, or so he tried to convince himself, though there were times he still found himself looking over his shoulder as if he expected to find someone else there watching him he never saw them again. Even with no new occurrences he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone despite the fact that he knew he was. It wasn't even that he was able to put a finger on what was happening...it wasn't footsteps from the apartment upstairs...voices coming in from the street..no, he'd managed to rule out all the obvious answers. It was simply a feeling...a feeling that there was something or someone here and there seemed to be no indication that it was going to pass anytime soon.
To be continued...
(A series of ficlets written for 100 Situations on Live Jourrnal.)
Chapter 1 of 3
by JD
It had been one of those weeks where neither he nor Sam had seemed to connect on any level. They had argued too much, or she had argued and he had listened, willing to do what she wanted in order to bring about peace. For whatever reasons their work schedules had ended up as polar opposites which meant what little they did see of each other not spent arguing, had been left to hellos and good-byes as they passed to and from work, or mumbled conversations exchanged through interrupted sleep. He was sure this was going to be another of those as he caught what sounded at first like a television left on too loud, then more like conspirator's whispers outside the door.
With a sigh Luka rolled away from the sound and pulled his pillow tighter to him, hoping to reclaim the depth of sleep the noises had stolen. The creak of the door and a childlike giggle broke the new-found silence only to be quickly muffled, and in his mind, amid the tangled threads of sleep, he knew that it couldn't be Alex, because Sam would have taken him to school on her way to work. He knew too that he should open his eyes, but in doing so he'd also be acknowledging things that he knew couldn't be there and so he ignored it.
Drawing the comforter over his shoulder he let the sounds recede as he felt himself being pulled back down again into darkness. It wasn't easy, but he finally convinced himself he could dismiss it to so many things, neighbors, noise from the street, a television left on. He just needed more sleep, that was all, and before long he did.
The shadows in the room had shifted when he stirred again, the disconcerting feeling of something not right pulling him closer to wakefulness. He lay unmoving a moment more before he felt the hairs on his neck rise and with it came that eerie feeling of one being watched. Aware that it might be anything or anyone, he felt his body tense and he forced himself to remain still a moment longer before hesitantly easing one eye open. The gasp left his throat before he could stop it as did the answering giggle just before the dark head, with it's telltale cowlick, disappeared from view on the other side of the mattress.
"Marko..." He almost threw himself across the bed to reach the edge, desperate for another glimpse of the small boy that he knew couldn't be there, but unwilling to take the chance just in case some miracle might have occurred. No one, he released an anguished cry as he fell forward onto the sheets, had he really expected that his son would be there? After so many years that the boy would be just as he'd last seen him? But, he had seen him, heard him...he'd been awake when he'd seen him, it hadn't been a dream. Lifting his head Luka glanced about the room, he knew it was impossible as well as he knew his own name. Pushing himself up on one arm he rubbed at his face with his free hand, as improbable as it was, he knew what he had seen. How could he not know those dark eyes? How many times in the past had he woke to find his small son staring patiently into his face waiting for him to wake after long hours at the hospital so he could, "play with his Tata"?
Pushing what little of the comforter that still covered him aside, he sat up, then swung his legs over the side of the bed so he could sit on the edge. The experience had left him shaken, so much so that even now he could still feel the effects deep inside of him. There was no point in trying to sleep again, not while his head was whirling, turning itself this way and that as it tried to make sense from things it could not.
With that decision made he stood and started for the bathroom, he would shower, get something to eat, it would make all the difference. He talked himself through each step as if that alone would guarantee the success of the actions. If he stuck to a normal routine nothing else would happen he told himself...this would work, it had to. He was past this, had been past this for years, and despite what he thought he had seen and heard earlier he wasn't going to slip back into the way things had been.
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully, or so he tried to convince himself, though there were times he still found himself looking over his shoulder as if he expected to find someone else there watching him he never saw them again. Even with no new occurrences he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone despite the fact that he knew he was. It wasn't even that he was able to put a finger on what was happening...it wasn't footsteps from the apartment upstairs...voices coming in from the street..no, he'd managed to rule out all the obvious answers. It was simply a feeling...a feeling that there was something or someone here and there seemed to be no indication that it was going to pass anytime soon.
To be continued...
