I woke up. It was completely dark. My boyfriend Alan was fast asleep, wrapped up in his duvet which he never shared, turned away from me. We had realised the first night that we had spent together that were one of those couples who needed separate duvets.
I remembered then I had fallen asleep before he got in that night. I had been vaguely anxious, as I hadn’t heard from him since earlier in the afternoon. Things had not been going so well between us- we needed to “talk”- we both knew we did, but such was the rush of work and life that it always seemed easier just to put off.
Like that evening- I had been up since early morning with a long shift for work, and despite the nagging feeling of anxiety for Alan and the fact that he had not texted, I passed out with fatigue, unable to stay awake. The nagging feeling had followed me into my asleep, and it was only after I woke and saw his warm figure beside me that I felt myself relaxing, the anxiety I had been carrying leaving my body in a pleasurable rush.
We lived in a tiny apartment, and when the bedroom door was open, you could see through to the kitchen. There was a faint light on- as if the fridge door was open. I was so thirsty, I felt I had never experienced such terrible thirst before. I got up and quietly walked to the kitchen. I heard Alan rustle under his duvet.
I pushed the fridge door, unable to tell if it had been fully closed or not. I wasn’t sure where the light was coming from. Then I turned to the sink and started filling a cup. A quiet noise startled me, as it cut through the sound of the running water, and I almost dropped the cup.
A quiet step.
I whipped around. Alan had just stepped out of the bathroom, just across the tiny hall from the kitchen. His face was all squishy with sleep. Men look so loveable when they are sleepy, I thought, and I smiled at him. “You’re up too?” I mumbled, bringing the cup to my lips. The water tasted so, so good.
He nodded sleepily, but didn’t go towards the bedroom. He just leaned by the bathroom door, looking at me, waiting for my next move.
What?
What move? Why did I think that?
I glanced at the bedroom. In the faint light, I could clearly see the duvet humped up, wrapped around a human figure.
I looked back at Alan, still standing with his arms folded in the bathroom doorway, looking into the kitchen, staring straight at me. He didn’t look adorable anymore. The cup froze against my lips.
I opened my mouth. A squeak came out. Alan smiled, and at the same time the duvet-wrapped figure in bed turned in his sleep.
The wall dividing the kitchen and the living room had one of those openings cut into it, meant for passing food and dishes through.
Still holding the cup to my lips, I turned and looked into the living room through the opening. Another Alan was seated on the couch staring at the tv screen which was on. That was where the faint light came from. How had I not noticed the tv before?
Alan’s current favourite game was playing on the screen- I could recognize the characters- something about animated cats- I remember Alan showing me the artwork.
Alan-on-the-couch fiddled with the gaming controls. He was focused on the screen with that look of deep concentration I knew so well.
I looked back at Alan-by-the-Bathroom. His face still looked squished up- in fact more so than moments ago when he first stepped out. As I stared at him, his face seemed to become more spongey, the features moving and shifting slightly. And yet despite my mounting terror, I felt the prick of that familiar frustration with him, his unreliability, his scatteredness, everything that had been bothering me about our relationship.
Alan-in-Bed called out in Alan’s voice “honey- where are you? Come back to bed!”
Alan-by-the-Bathroom raised his eyebrows at me. Alan-on-the-couch grunted in frustration, I knew he must have lost.
‘COME BACK TO BEEEDDDDD HONEEEEYYYY” came a growling voice from the bed, and the duvet began to rise, presumably as the creature- human- whatever underneath was getting up. I saw clearly Alan’s leg slipping out from under the duvet, touching the floor, while the upper body and head remained completely covered.
The terrible sound broke my paralysis. I fled towards the main door, passing Alan-by-the Bathroom. I struggled with lock and finally flung the door open as the growl grew louder, before dying off completely.
I stepped out into the harsh electric light of the building corridor, and I saw the unmistakable figure of Alan at the far end of the corridor, just under a flickering neon Exit sign, striding purposefully towards me and our apartment.
With a cry of despair I began running in the opposite direction, which led to the underground parking. I knew I could exit the building from the parking lot.
As I ran to the flight of steps which led down to the parking lot, I looked up and I caught sight of Alan, but going up the stairs. I paused a moment in confusion- why was he going up? Why wasn’t he going towards the level where our apartment was? I didn’t stop for long – and continued into the parking lot.
I ran through the cars in parking lot, my eyes fixed on the exit sign which led outdoors, praying I would see no one. I finally got there and then I was outside the building, in the still, after-midnight dark.
And then just as I stepped away from the building, wondering where to go and what to do next, a police car swerved quietly around the building driveway. It stopped, and an officer came out. She looked straight at me and called my name.
I dumbly nodded. She reached out an arm to me, and I went up to her. I still didn’t know.
We walked around the building - I think she was saying something but I couldn’t hear her. I saw him then in the light of the police cars and ambulance, lying completely shattered on the grass. The police officer was holding me but she needn’t have bothered, I was completely still.
It was only then I realised he had jumped.