communication zero

We can't talk any more!

StoryKettle » PAIN » communication zero

Copyright © 2009, Michael M Wayman

She was happy. I was happy. Then she told me about her husband.

The happiness went – the communication almost died. It wasn't just that her husband had been cruel to her – he had hit her. The physical scars were gone but the others were still there. That wasn't it either. No! The problem was somewhere deep inside me just as much as it was deep inside her.


What had I done? Nothing! I don't hit people – I don't hit no one. I certainly have never hit her. And no, she says that I have never hurt her in anyway. It is good that she says this – though I don't believe it.

What was deep inside me? I would soon find out.

I came home one day and discovered a man shouting at her and hitting her. It must have been her awful husband. I picked him up and threw him against the wall. The contents of his stomach landed on the carpet – a nasty red stain on the wall. He crawled, half staggered out of the house. I heard him fall down the steps – I did not go to help or hinder.

The quietness entered through an open window and filled the whole place. I said nothing. She said nothing. I looked at her. She looked at me.

So this is communication zero.

Why and what? Was I so bad to her husband? Did she still like him? Was she afraid that I would be so bad to her? Did she still love me? Where did the violence sit in me? What was wrong with me?

These and other questions ran through my head and through my head and through my head – communication zero.

The next day she opened her mouth and asked what we were going to eat that evening – communication null-point-one.

Oh, I suppose it was better than I thought – she was still with me – I was still with her.

The next day I cried – was I so bad? So evil?

She spoke to me, you have evil inside you.

Oh no! She was going to leave me.

She spoke to me, we have evil inside us. We all have it. You must learn to live with that. I will help you.

Have you read schoolboy and Nottingham's Xmas Tale?