Air (standard:drama, 2997 words)
Author: Doug	Added: Jun 21 2003	Views/Reads: 3081/2160	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A boy riddled with thoughts of his crazy parents, his loveable sister, and his forlorn God.

I awoke in the midst of a wonderful dream. 

My eyes were not yet adjusted to the dark, but the porch light streaming
through the window allowed me to see my bedroom as I had left it when I 
had retired for the night.  In the bed next to mine, I perceived the 
shallow breathing of my sleeping sister, and in a little bit I could 
see her tiny figure rising up and down with each breath.  I smiled, 
pleased.  Her sleeping, unlike mine, was frequently undisturbed. 

It was always the good dreams that awoke me, because I knew that such
good things could never happen and so must be false, and I always awoke 
when that realization came about.  The nightmares, however, lasted and 
lasted until I was awakened by the sun's light through that window.  I 
had such terrible nightmares—but they were real, I could have sworn 
they were real.  I could feel the cold hands gripping my wrists and my 
neck, and I would sit up violently in bed only to find my father trying 
to kill me.  That last was not a nightmare.  My father always tried to 
kill me, but with minimal success.  My mother could not have been so 
lucky. 

I had stood and walked to my sister's bed to kiss her on the forehead. 
Such an angel, wrapped in her blankets and sucking her thumb.  She was 
sick with tuberculosis.  Only five years old, and already on her death 
bed.  I smiled and stroked her long, beautiful hair.  I leaned forward 
to remove her thumb from her mouth, then thought better of it, and, 
smiling, returned to my own bed.  I could not sleep for the remainder 
of the night. 

I woke at around ten in the morning, and my sister had already left her
bed.  She was always refreshed in the mornings.  I slowly rolled out of 
bed, naked, and stood to put on clothes.  My sister exploded through 
the door, and I was not startled. 

“Jon, come see what I found!” she exclaimed happily. 

“Hold on a second,” as I dressed.  She bounded out of the room and down
the stairs to wait for me. 

I came down presently, and found my sister stroking a black cat that
looked deprived and near death itself.  “Where did you find that?” I 
asked her, bored. 

“He was out in the yard.” 

“You know you're not supposed to go outside, Beth.” 

“Oh, pooh!” 

“Pooh nothing, Beth.  I don't want anything to happen to you.” 

“You're mean, Jon.” 

“I know, Beth, but it's only for your own good.” 

“Ok.” 

The cat slinked over toward me and rubbed itself on my legs.  I kicked
away violently.  It hissed and bounded out the open front door.  Beth 
could never remember to keep the front door closed.  It slowed when it 
reached our well-manicured lawn and settled itself in the soft grass.  
I still don't know how cats survive outside when it's well below 
freezing.  Especially the ones with the thin coats.  But this one 
seemed to be happy. 

I heard another door slam and glanced upstairs.  My father, naked, came
down the steps quickly and elbowed me out of the way and into the wall. 
He paid no attention.  “What the hell was that?” 

I regained my balance.  “What was what?” 

He reached out and popped me one on the left cheek.  I deserved it. 
“Don't be a smart ass.  I heard a hiss.” 

“It was a kitty.”  Beth was never a smart ass. 



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