Home Alone

On yet another night

After five consecutive nights

Of drowning in a sea of pegs

Full of whiskey and vodka

And Jager bombs at times,

I stumble back home,

No, a house, this isn't home,

And pull out two chilled beers,

With a plate of French fries

From God knows when,

I blast the speakers

And play some early jazz

To wipe out the rhythmic ticking

Of the clock that tells me

The number of hours since

I have been dating loneliness,

The playlist shifts from

Everybody Loves My Baby

To Dreamy Blues,

The sultry saxophone

Filling up the room,

Loud enough for me

To get lost in its magic;

Not loud enough

To ignore my phone ringing.

It's the neighbour calling,

The last person I want to

Indulge in a conversation with

That nosy lady right now,

But my polite ass answers the call,

"Hello", mustering the most

Sober voice I could get out of myself,

"Hi Sweetie! Ummm...

I really hate to be that person,

But could you please stop

Knocking the wall so hard?

They are really thin,

And I have an early day tomorrow..."

"I'm sorry? What now?"

"The upstairs wall?

You've been knocking on it

For more than an hour.

Honey, are you alright?

Now that I think of it,

You looked kind of

Under the weather

When I saw you in the driveway

A few hours ago;

I can come stay over

At your place tonight,

In case you feel sicker..."

"But I stepped inside my house

Not more than fifteen minutes ago,

You must be mistaken"

"Weren't you wearing a green dress,

And you had your hair open?"

"Y...yes but..."

"Are you sure you are fine?

Perhaps you passed out

And can't recall?"

I snap. Is she nuts?

Is she playing a prank?

Such a sick thing to do

At 1.57 in the night!

"Mrs L..."

"Look, I don't know what's up with you,

But please stop the nuisance,

I really need to sleep.

Why are you still hitting the wall,

When that's the exact thing

I have been asking you not to do?"

"Mrs Leela, I am standing

In my kitchen, downstairs,

And I still don't know

What you are talking about "

"I think you need to

Get out of the house,

You're not alone,

And it's not safe in there."

"That's it, Mrs Leela,

I'm hanging up."

"Please listen to..."

What a psycho!

But at least, now I have something

To laugh about till I fall asleep.

Perhaps I should get into

Something more comfortable,

I can't stay in this dress...

*THUD*

I don't really know where I am,

Or what day it is,

But it is really hot in here,

I feel itchy all over,

I can't breathe properly,

Wait, what is this smell?

It feels familiar,

It... It's the smell of wet earth!

I'm buried alive!

Who buried...

//NaPoWriMo, Day 12