Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1732476-So-Much-Noise
by Orphan
Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1732476
On these days there's always so much noise.
My chair was so warm and soft, like it always was, but for the life of me I couldn’t get comfortable. Usually, my chair is my place of rest, my place of solitude. I can sit on it and dream away, its soft red cushions holding me like my mother’s arms used to. Right now my chair couldn’t help me though, everyone was sat in the living room and ignoring me as usual. However much I try to enjoy their company, I just can’t get through to them. I’m sure they know I exist, they must do, but they just ignore me.

The power is out, the heating is busted and the family is all quiet inside the house. The local news streamed a list of schools that were closed, Molly sat there so full of life, sat with her dinner plate eyes staring at the screen, biting her lip waiting for Monty High to slide by. When it did she leapt up and ran around the room jumping, like an aeroplane carrying too many passengers just trying to take off. I was not happy with this, she nearly ran right through me.

I flew back to my chair, it hugged me, and it felt my pain. I wanted to be alone, but instead they were all here. Molly was still running around, she jumped onto my chair and made my existence even more uncomfortable. She snuggled in and gave out a long sigh, clearly exhausted from her morning sprint around the house. Why did she always have to sit here, on my chair? I just want this day to be over and for everyone to go back to their normal lives so I can be in peace, in my chair.

Six months ago this house had been empty, and then it was filled with so much noise and chaos. There were Kids running around getting ready for school, a father who made strange noises just for the sake of it, clearing his throat at thirty second intervals; and a mother, who when everyone had gone off to school or work, hoovered the house to within an inch of its life. So much noise.

These days are the worst though, when they’re all here together; I hope the snow melts by tomorrow. I just want to be left alone, in my chair, my resting place.
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