Jonathan's blog: "Poems"

Jason Devine walked into the darkness that was his rented house. It had been a while since he had actually spent any time there lately. Since his break up with Rachel, he had spent most of his time either at work or at the bar finding a companion at the bottom of a bottle. He had used to be only a beer drinker, but since she was gone he has discovered the pleasures of mixed drinks. His new best friends Jack, Jim, and Jose had listened to all his problems and had never said a word. These were the kind of men that Jason could confide in, secrets that once were only shared with Rachel and no one else.

Jason stood in the doorway and closed his eyes, breathing deep. He could still smell the scented candles that use to litter the room filling small holes on shelves, counter tops, and ledges. He could remember nights coming home from work and the house smelled of jasmine from her burning candles. She would have dinner almost ready and a bottle of wine open, chilling on the table. The smell of her cooking would dance with the scent of the jasmine candles. Jason could feel tears well in his eyes and bit his lip to try and keep the flood waters of the past dammed. He opened his eyes and looked down at the brown paper bag that he was carrying in his left hand. He might just be making a call to his good friend Jack to settle his nerves he thought. Jason stood in the doorway as if unsure that the room he was looking at was indeed the same living room that he had shared with Rachel for those past seven years.

He could see on his left the key rack that used to hold both sets of keys. There were five hooks and as he hung his set on the middle hook he felt even more alone than before. The sight of that solitary key set was a visual reminder that he was indeed alone in this house and that was all there was to it. The key rack hung next to the large doorway that opened up into the dining room. From where Jason was standing he could see the entire dining room, now bare save a few brown boxes and a weight bench that he had brought up from the basement to try and add something to the emptiness that was there. On the far right wall he could see into the small kitchen that Rachel would cook her fabulous dinners and breakfasts. She could cook anything, he thought, and he could not remember ever being tired of whatever she created. Thinking about her cooking, Jason’s stomach made a large gurgle as if to agree that her food was very good. Next to the kitchen was the downstairs closet that was slightly ajar from her move. Through the cracked door he could see the many coat hangers that hung bare. To the right of the closet were the stairs the lead to the bedrooms and office upstairs. Jason quickly flicked his eyes away from the stairs. The memories from the bedrooms were a bit more than he could bear right now.

Jason turned his head to the right. Here he could see the big, soft, blue chair that the coat he was wearing quickly found its way to. Accompanying the chair was the matching sofa that he and Rachel use to lie and cuddle up on watching movies, listen to the rain on, or just nap on when they could get the time together. This was the sofa that they had first made love on, the sofa that first held the fragile form of their son when he had come home from the hospital, the sofa that he held her on as she wept after the funeral for the baby. It was SIDS, he kept telling her, there was nothing that she could have done differently. She lay in his arms for hours crying, sometimes softly, sometimes hysterically. And sometimes he joined her. This sofa bore the weight of seven years of pleasure and pain. Since she had left, he could not bear the thought of touching the sofa, instead lying on the floor in front on the sofa, or reclining in the easy chair. The easy chair transformed itself into a bed quite a few nights after Rachel left. It was blue as well, but lighter than the sofa or chair.

Jason pulled the bottle of Jack Daniels from the brown paper bag. He unscrewed the black cap and took a long deep drag from the bottle. The whiskey hit his throat and stomach like liquid fire and it took a minute to straighten his face from its contorted form. Tears had welled into his eyes again, this time from the whiskey, and he found that he was alright with that. Jason’s eyes fell again to the easy chair. Behind it was the fireplace that he and Rachel sat in front of sipping glass after glass of wine. Her soft, supple body illuminated by the orange glow of the fire was the most incredible sight in his opinion. The way she would lay down beside him, her long dark hair exploding around her head, her body inviting him to touch and caress it. The fireplace was flanked by two built in book shelves. Shelves once used to be packed from wall to wall of her favorite authors, stacks of journals, and a disarray of scrap books and photo albums. Above the bookshelves, in between the fireplace and the walls were two empty spaces that held two pieces of art that the two of them had bought in Maine one fall a few years ago. They were walking along the boardwalk in a small New England town when they came upon an old man painting the shore and cove that stretched out before them. They had already taken countless pictures to remember the trip, but this old man had seemed to capture the cove, the sky, the gulls flying around, like no other picture they had taken yet. She had insisted on buying that painting, and with a little persuasion of three hundred dollars, they soon were packing their new memory into a freight box with a second painting by the old man of a mountain scene.

Jason began to look around the room at the walls. There were few pictures that hung there, pictures of his family and things that he did, but there was a lot of open space where the important pictures used to hang. Pictures of Rachel would crowd the walls here in the living room. Pictures of her with short hair, long hair, in a dress, at a bar-be-que, parties, vacations, special moments that shone down on him from every angle. Now there was nothing but empty space. Jason took another drag from the whiskey bottle. The room felt like he was looking into the center of his heart and all he could see was empty space.

Along the wall to his left was a large void that use to be filled with their entertainment center. What was once a center filled with all the bells and whistles was now a night stand with a small television balanced on top. In the center of the room was a wooden chest that had become a makeshift coffee table. Inside the chest was all the mementoes of Rachel that he could fit into it. There were some late nights that he would pull out something from that chest and weep. Its secondary function, from the looks of it, was to keep the dozen or so fast food bags and paper plates off the floor. The room that was laid out before him was no longer recognizable. This was no longer that house that he had made into a home with Rachel. Looking around he felt helpless and pitiful. Again, this would be something for he and Jack to talk about later as he wept quietly over old photos.

As Jason stood and looked at what had now become his life, the lights went out. It took a moment for the fact that his now unfamiliar world was now dark. He turned and dumbly looked at where the light switch would be along the wall close to the door. Reaching out, he began to fumble along the wall for the light switch. After a few careless swipes, he found the switch and began to flip it up and down. The switch would flip, but no lights would come on. He turned and looked out the doorway to the street below. There was a little light, but he could see that the electricity was off all through out the neighborhood. Jason stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He took a minute to allow his eyes to adjust to the light. He could make out shapes but nothing was a definite. He took a couple steps forward trying to force himself to see where things were, but the darkness enveloped him. The only light that he could see was that of the hour marks n the watch that he wore. He stood there in the darkness thinking of what he should do. On the one hand he welcomed the darkness that clutched him tightly. In the dark, he could no longer see the life that was his. He would not have to be reminded of Rachel with every step through this house. Every step brought back a memory of that exact spot. Emotionally every step was like walking through broken glass in bare feet only to have to wade through a creek of alcohol.

On the other hand, he could go meet Jack Daniels out at the bar, and maybe Jim Beam and Jose could meet him out as well. That way when he did come home tonight, he would not be in any condition to deal with the house and the memories that it brought. This seemed like the perfect plan, and he was rather proud of himself for thinking of it. Smiling he turned to go through the door and out to his car. As he looked at the door, he froze in his tracks. There in the window and curtain of the door was a figure. Startled he took a step backward and tripped over a pair of shoes that were left in the middle of the entryway. He landed with a hard thud and a bolt of pain shot through his rear. He sat there looking straight ahead through the window and the curtain from the front door. The figure still stood motionless. Jason could not breath. Then a small smile of embarrassment spread across his face. It was probably a neighbor coming to check in on him to make sure that he was alright. He felt silly for being so easily rattled especially in a house that he had lived in for seven years. Jason climbed slowly to his feet and brushed off his pants. He was sure that it was just a neighbor outside the door. Jason reached out and fumbled for the knob briefly and soon was turning the handle. He opened the door and began to say something and stopped without ever uttering a word. There was no one outside at all.

Jason stepped through the door confused. He stood out on his patio and looked all around. There was no one to be seen in any direction. He thought for a moment that maybe it was all a figment of his imagination. Maybe Jack Daniels was playing tricks on him. Jason stepped back into the house and shut the door. He stood looking down in the darkness at where his feet would have been and thought about it. Yes, he must be slightly under some kind of influence. He looked up and out the window again. To his surprise, there was a figure shadowed in the doorway again through the curtains. Jason stood there mesmerized. It was as if the figure could see him as well through the curtain. Jason took a step backward in shock. The shadowed figure then moved. Jason turned and took two long strides away from the door. In the dark it was hard to tell where he was so he felt lucky to have been able to take the two steps that he did. Turning back to the door he was relieved to see that the figure was no longer there. He stood in the dark and looked around wishing that his eyes could focus and get adjusted to the lack of light, but nothing was familiar to him.

A noise to his right caused him to spin wildly looking right. In his quick turn he took a step backward and something hit his leg causing him to come crashing down over the chest on the floor. He could hear the sound of paper bags and old drink cup spilling to the floor all around him. His pants were now soaked and he felt an explosion of pain go through his ankle. What the hell was happening? He could hear a scurrying about him, but he could not tell what it was. It sounded small but he was unsure of what the noise really was. Jason sat in the dark trying to get his bearings. There was a creek of a floor board in the other room. He could not be sure if it was a floorboard from the kitchen or from the dining room. Here sitting on the floor in the dark he imagined that it could be a floor board directly in front of him and he would never know the difference.

Jason slowly made his way to his feet arms outstretched hoping that he would find something familiar within arms reach to get a better bearing on where he was. The dark seemed to amplify the creaks and groans of the old house settling and he thought he could also hear the fain wisp of footsteps as well. Who ever was at the door was in the house, he was sure of it. Anger began to mix with panic as Jason stood there blanketed in the dark. Jason turned slowly and tried desperately to see his way through the dark. Off in what he thought might have been the corner where the blue comfortable chair was, he thought he saw someone sitting down, but could not be sure. He took a step to his right and was brought low again by the sharp pain in his ankle. This time when he fell, he came crashing head first into the night stand the held the television up off the floor sending the TV crashing down beside him. All this noise would allow who ever was in the house to know where he was at. He tried crawling away as fast as he could. Jason crawled head first into the book shelves that was next to the fireplace. It felt like someone had hit him in the head with a ball bat.

He sat and held his head in his hands for a moment. He could feel a dampness coming from his head that he could only assume could be blood, but was not sure. He wiped his hands in the dark on whatever was around and looked off into the blackness to try and see what was around him. Faint shapes stood out, but the forms mingled with each other like different shades of black. There was definitely something off to his left that he could make out. He slowly made himself into a crouched position. He could see the faint glow if the door and to a certain freedom from the blackness inside the house as long as he could make it through the door. He got ready to spring forward when another creek made him freeze in his tracks. This time it was definitely coming from the room that he was in. Jason crouched and waited to see if he could hear something else to tell him if the person in the room could see him or not. No sound passed and Jason stayed there crouched for what seemed like an eternity.

He felt that the time was now to run. There was someone in here with him and Jason did not want to be in this room any more. He launched himself forward and was tripped up by something on the floor in front of him. He could not tell if something hd grabbed his foot or not and he came down still pumping his legs in and effort to run. Jason fought to his feet and stumbled up. He turned and thought he could see a form near the window that was over he sofa. Jason took a step backward into the doorway that lead to the dining room. A sound in the kitchen spun him around again. Here he was out in the open with nothing to hide behind. On a wall in front of him, he could see the shadow of a man. The build was that of someone athletic. The shadow was hunched over a little like it was about to lunge at him. Jason did not wait around to see who the shadow belonged to. Jason lunged forward himself and propelled himself onto the stair. Tripping and clawing his way, he began to climb the stairs. Fear had taken deep root into his heart. He could hear what sounded like crashing behind him in the narrow corridor of the stairwell and he fought harder to climb the stair. Jason came to the top of the steps and began to crawl forward trying to keep low and out of any light to prevent his stalker from detecting him. He found a wall and began to move slowly along it. Feeling the cool wall was a comfort that at least one of his flank was protected.

Jason came to the door jam of the spare bedroom and waited. The door was closed and he paused to listen for any noise to let him know if he was alone or not. Silence greeted him and he struggled to his feet. Jason placed his back on the wall and pushed himself up the wall. His ankle was throbbing and his head was pounding. Jason took a step forward running his back past the door jam and along the door. Suddenly the door was flung open and he fell into the room. With a loud crash he hit the floor at the foot of the bed inside. As he fell, he hit his elbow on the foot of the bed and pain shot through his arm, numbing it. Jason struggled to his feet. If there was someone in the room he did not want to be lying on the floor if they decided to attack him. He stood and surveyed the room as quickly as possible. There were dark shapes all around the room and a window off to his right. Light crept through the window softly and was the only comfort that he had. Jason stood there and turned around. Movement caught his eye and he stopped cold. In front of him he could see the outline of a man. He could make out the hands, the build, the look of an oxford shirt and the crouched form. Finally he could see the form of the man who was in his house. Panic gripped at his heart as he stood there frozen. He could see that the man could see him as well. Now it was all just a staring contest. Both men standing, ready to react to the others first move.

Jason was not sure that he had the nerve to confront a man. Not here. Not like this. He was terrified while the figure in front of him looked calm and perched to strike. Without warning light burst through the windows flooding the room from the street light from outside. Jason threw up his hands startled and he saw the man react. No time for waiting to see if the man was attacking, Jason dove headlong for the door. Instead of getting out the door, he crashed right into the doorway. Jason fumbled for the light switch and flipped the switch as fast as he could. He then jumped from the doorway back into the room to face his assailant. There, standing in the middle of the room, he was amazed to see that not only was he alone in the room, but the mystery assailant was his reflection in a mirror that was mounted on the closet door. Jason stood in disbelief looking at himself in the mirror unsure of whether he wanted to laugh or cry. All this time and it was only his reflection stalking him. Jason began to laugh. God, how stupid could he be. The shadows downstairs could have been his shadow from the little bit of light that was coming in off the street. Embarrassed, he checked his head for where he crashed in to the book case earlier. There was blood, but now it had dried and crusted over. He looked like hell.

Jason stood looking himself over. With a chuckle he reached out and flipped the light off to see himself in the dark one last time. In the dark he could see the shape and look of the man in the mirror, but nothing to identify him. With a sigh of relief and a chuckle, Jason gave himself the finger in the mirror and began to walk out of the room and in to the hall to go back downstairs and get his things for bed. He was exhausted and he did not need a drink as badly now. He threw a glance toward the mirror as he left. The mirror threw a glance back at him. Satisfied, he walked out the door. The reflection in the mirror paused and watched Jason walk away. His reflection smiled.