Page 39 of Dark Room Junkie

Mom wedged herself between us, trying to calm me down. “Please, Noé. He meant well.”

I was breathless when I saw her. I could hardly breathe, as if an iron belt was squeezing my chest together. Panic-stricken, I spun around and yanked the front door open.

“You’re so ungrateful!” she yelled after me. “Good for nothing!”

The door slammed shut behind me, and I ran down the stairs. On the landing, I let out an enraged scream and punched the wall with my fist. Pain shot through my entire arm and paralyzed me for a moment. I could have kept on hitting, but the only thing stopping me was the fact that I had to play bass tonight.

12

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Alex

The old floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I made my way through the dark hallway. It was forbidden for me to disturb Dad at work. Just like he was strict with his students, he never hesitated to scold me with a raised finger when I did something wrong. But he hadn’t responded to my calls, so I dared to venture forward.

Full of fear and with labored breath, I approached his study. As much as he had tried to make me understand last night that what he had done to me was proof of his love for me, I felt dirty and miserable. My back ached, and it was as if that burning thorn was still inside me. He had forbidden me to ever talk to anyone about it, which I had no intention of doing anyway. I was too ashamed and didn’t even know why.

Maybe something was wrong with me? Perhaps I should try to talk to him once the police officers waiting downstairs at the door were gone.

“Dad,” I said cautiously as I came to a stop just before his office.

Can’t he hear me?

The hallway was dark, but the door was open, and the sun shone directly onto the opposite wall.

“Dad. There are some poli …”

As I turned the corner and entered the bright room, I froze in place. Hanging from a beam in front of the window was my father. Beneath him lay an overturned chair.

The image seared into my brain, merging with memories of last night. Paralyzed, I sank to the floor, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him.

I don’t know how long I had been sitting there, but eventually, two hands grabbed my shoulders and shook me.

“Breathe, kid!” were the words slowly penetrating my consciousness.

A loud buzzing rang in my head, and I became aware of my surroundings.

“Get him out of here. He’s in shock.”

“Where’s the mother?”

“Kid! Can you hear me?”

“Hey, Alex, are you still with us?”

I flinched and locked eyes with Moritz.

“Do you want another beer?” he asked.

Without looking away from him, I reached into my pocket like in a trance and pumped a dose of asthma spray. Breathing immediately became easier for me.

“Everything okay?” the architect asked, touching my arm.

I instinctively pulled away, trying to focus on my breathing, and leaned forward slightly. Before Moritz went to the bar, I nodded and croaked, “Yeah, I’ll have another beer.”

The other architects laughed in relief. I coughed and straightened up again. I hesitantly pushed my hair back and adjusted my glasses.

“Where were you just now?”

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