The Beat of a Sleepless Night | Short Story

The blast of cacophonous clamor came suddenly. It was strong, vibrant, and discordant. It blared with extreme strength. The noise penetrated the thin walls and resounded within the bedroom. It seemed to come from no specific direction, and it had a jarring rhythm which made everything inside quiver.

The cell rang.Franklin had a contrite expression. He got up from his bed. His body wasn’t awake completely as his feet gave in, and he collapsed to the floor. Thankfully, there was a carpet so the fall was soft. He looked at the time; it was a natural thing to do. Every human being acts this way. There seemed to be a power outage, as the clock lacked the correct time, and the display continued to flickering. He didn’t bother setting it up and grabbed his cell. Mildly irritated, he wasn’t surprised by the revelation that it was 3AM. Got to go…again, he thought.

He had a strong headache which was kindled by the blares from the outside. He left his bunk muddled and drifted to the bathroom.

The cell rang. Again. Again.

He looked into the mirror where he saw his face. The deep black-purple circles under his eyes, the bulging check bones, which seemed to be an indication of weight loss, and the oily hair didn’t surprise him. His face was worn out and neglected.

He washed his face. The water was cold, but he liked it that way. He grabbed a path of smokes, and a bottle of his favorite booze. He swilled it in one go. Nothing helped with the headache, but he kicked the door open, and continued with his initial goal of confronting his perpetrators.

The outside was mildly warm. He sauntered down the stairs of his porch and toiled up to the doorsteps of an imposing house next door. A couple was snuggling by a tree. Three guys were quaffing bear after bear by the steps. One of them was precariously climbing a latter in order to replace the light bulb above. The music redoubled as he closed in.

He wanted to politely knock, but he was familiar with these parties, and he knew that a timid knock would garner no attention whatsoever. He made a fist and pummeled on the doors a few times. No reaction. He knocked. No reaction. He seemed to catch the attention of the trio of drinkers who tottered to the door.

“What do you want?” A long-haired man asked.

“Looking for trouble?” Another added.

Franklin left before the conversation could unravel. Circling around the house, he made his way around the pool. Balancing on the edge someone tripped, and almost grabbed him. He evaded the thick horde of people and made his way inside. He slipped through the busy kitchen and passed by a few bedrooms, where isolated groups have gathered to gossip and have fun. He circled around the living room, searching for the host. When he arrived at the stairs, he realized that he was standing by the front door, only this time he was on the inside.

“There you are!” Lenny, the host, screamed from around the corner. In one hand, he had a video game controller, and in the other, a few bottles. “I was just looking for my favorite neighbor! I was constantly wondering where you were! I kept calling, you know?”

Franklin gave a timorous shrug, before a jubilant smile crept up his face. “Thank for waking me up.” He said, ready to party.

The beat left him sleepless.



Thanks for reading. I’m sorry for being a little late. I was hoping to have this posted two days ago, but life intervened. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this short piece. Feel free to comment or make suggestions.
Patrick Rain.

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2 Responses to The Beat of a Sleepless Night | Short Story

  1. Joining the party at 3am skips it to the good part, a pretty good tactic.
    Reminded me a lot of Linwood Barclays No Safe House opening chapter that I read recently.

    • Patrick Rain says:

      Haha I didn’t look at it from that perspective. =]
      I actually never read any of Barclay’s books, but I have heard of his more famous works on a few occasions.

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