She stifled a scream as she heard his heavy tread in her room. He's too drunk to look - he's too drunk to look she thought desperately as she squeezed herself as far back under the bed as she possibly could. He wouldn't get her tonight. She'd rather die.
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Boing! Boing! Boing!
"Justin Richard More! Stop bouncing on that bed! You'll break it!"
"Aww Mom!"
There is a brief pause.
Boing! Boing! Boing! Crash!
"ARGH!"
"Justin? Justin? Are you alright?" Silence. Hurried footsteps up the stairs. Screaming.
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WAAAAAAAH!
The baby's scream pierced the night, again. Martha willed her body to move, to get up and see to her child but her limbs were heavy. Her husband lay beside her, snoring loudly. The baby's wails grew louder, more frantic. Martha's eyelids flickered as she tried to open her eyes. She was so tired. Finally, she managed to drag her body into an upright position and force her eyes open. She peered into the dimly lit room, trying to assess the cause of the crying. A lost dummy, but where was it? She groped around the cot, fingers fumbling against cuddly toys but no luck. Aha! There, she scrambled to get the pacifier and put it back in the wide-open mouth, holding her hand over the baby's face. A sudden peace descended.
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His hands tightened around her neck. With each thrust he pressed harder, ignoring the choking sounds, the arm hitting him and the legs beneath him writhing in protest. She didn't mean it. She loved it. He clenched as he reached climax and shuddered, finally releasing his hands. But it was too late. He'd killed another one.
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"How much for the bed frame, mate" The young man stood on the edge of the parking space, in front of the garage sale, eyeing the furniture hopefully.
"Twenty quid," replied the elderly man, running the sale.
"Twenty quid? That's a total bargain, hang on..." The youth fumbled into his pockets, looking for his last note, sure that it was a twenty. He pulled out a tenner. "Oh. Er. I don't..."
"It's fine. Have it. I don't want your money." The older man looked between the disassembled frame and the skinny fellow. "You got some way to transport this?"
"Yeah! My mates got a van. Can we come back and pick it up later?"
"It's all yours."
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A young man and his dog were found dead last night in a bed frame purchased from Mr Lovell, widower to the eminent artist Sandra Lovell who died under mysterious circumstances in the same bed. Police investigations at the time ruled the death to be accidental but the history of the furniture can be traced back through several unexplained fatal accidents. The bed is currently available for sale at Pears Auction House but has yet to have a single bid.
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