Behind the Walls
By Mark Geisel
The banging of the sledgehammer reverberated throughout the dark room. The room was filled with destroyed furniture. A table was snapped in half, a wooden chair was overturned with two missing legs, and in the middle of the room laid the broken remains of a wooden bed frame. A thin layer of salt water filled the room. The walls were made of uneven stone bricks placed by hand with no windows or doors. Half of a red banner hung on one of the walls while the other half floated in the water. Underneath the torn banner sat a man clutching his ears with his calloused hands. The sledgehammer hit the wall again.
“Enough already!” the man yelled.
“I know I am making progress,” a woman said from outside the room. “It shouldn’t be too much longer.” Another bang of the hammer.
“I don’t want you to make progress. I am happy where I am.” The man ran his fingers through the water as the banging stopped.
“This isn’t happiness.”
“And how would you know what happiness is?” the man said. The torn half of the red banner floated into his leg. He picked it up and squeezed it to his chest. “When would you have ever experienced it?”
“Maybe I haven’t. At least not in the way you might have.” The woman’s voice is tired. She had been swinging at the wall for hours. “But I know that locking yourself away in there is not happiness.”
The man stayed silent. The red banner was dropped back into the water. Another swing of the hammer shakes the room.
“Stop it,” the man said. “You’ve done enough damage already.”
“Or what?” the woman said with another swing of the hammer. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Nothing.” The room shakes again.
“What are you afraid of?” the woman asked, followed by another swing.
“I am…” The man said, trailing off. The banging was getting louder with each hit of the hammer. “I am afraid of getting hurt again.”
The hammer broke through the wall creating a small hole across from the man. The stone brick splashed onto the floor. Light streamed into the room. The red banner floated into the light. Through the hole was a lush garden full of colorful flowers. The sun beamed down on the garden. Birds chirped from out of view of the hole. The man inched his way closer.
“Yes,” the woman said. “I can finish this.” She swung the hammer at the edges of the hole making it bigger.
The man took jagged breaths as he moved into the light. He stopped when he reached the torn, red banner. His eyes widened as he looked outside. The darkness of his room hung behind him in complete silence.
“It has been so long,” the man said. The hole was getting larger with each swing filling more of the room with light. Then a wasp flew through the hole and landed on the torn banner. The man snatched the banner with a yell and crawled back into the darkness. The wasp flew back out the hole.
“What is wrong?” the woman asked. She stopped swinging and stuck her face into the hole to see. The man splashed water at her causing her to pull back.
“Look what you did,” the man said. “All you did was invite pain into my life.”
“I am trying to get you out of there,” the woman said, keeping her distance from the hole. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy in here and you are ruining it.” The man held the red banner tightly to his chest.
“I just want to help.”
“And I never wanted your help. All you cause is pain and I want you leave.” The man splashed water at the hole again.
“I just—”
“Leave!”
Silence overtook them. The darkness of the room pushed back against the outside light.
“If I leave, I can’t come back,” the woman said.
“Good.”
“If you keep living like this, you are going to die alone.”
“Good.”
“I will leave this here in case someone stronger than I comes by to save you.” The woman placed the hammer against the wall. “Goodbye.”
The man remained silent as the woman walked away. He then got to work rebuilding his wall.
THE END
Author Bio: Mark Geisel comes from Southeast Texas. He spends most of his time working and writing at his computer.