The doors slam so hard the vibrations can be felt humming through the walls in our place. I look up from what I’m doing, turn down the volume and sit still. I am alone in this beautiful, new flat.

And the screaming begins.

She shrieks so loudly that I can hear her word for perfect word, as I sit quietly,

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, EVERY FUCKING TIME, YOU PROMISE, AND EVERY FUCKING TIME YOU DO IT AGAIN, IF YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE THEN JUST FUCKING TELL ME, BUT DON’T PUT ME THROUGH THIS.”

I wonder if her breaking heart forces her to act like this, to lose her ability to rationalise and talk in a normal manner. She is so loud, that I can hear the strain, her voice breaking. Oh the pressure that must be mounting on her vocal chords.

I rarely hear him. And when I do, I have to strain to hear his words. But tonight he has had enough.

He shouts. Loudly.

“I’ve had a hard day at work, I’m hungry, I’m dehydrated. All I wanted to do was come home and relax. AND YOU JUST WON’T FUCKING LEAVE IT ALONE, WILL YOU? JUST FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE.”

SLAM!

SLAM!

Two doors.

SLAM! And another

And then I hear the child, shrieking, crying, “Nooooooooooo. Nooooooo. Just stop it please.”

In that split moment in time, the blood has started to course through my veins, the adrenaline crashing around in my body, creating a thunderous noise in my ears. Oh God, there’s a kid. Fuck, what do I do now? Should I go round and ask if they’re okay? Should I call the police? What would I tell them? That my neighbours are arguing and the kid is upset but I didn’t hear anything that alluded to physical abuse. And what would happen if these neighbours found out I had called the police, and started a campaign of terror against me?

Oh come on. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be thinking the very same cowardly things?

The child continues to wail, “No, just stop it, don’t upset everyone, pleeease.”

I think about how this poor child has no choice but to grow up having to hear this god-awful shouting night after night, the sound of two people falling out of love. What a black mark this must leave on their heart - no child deserves to grow up like this.

I don’t stop thinking about that child, and as I finally drift off into a fitful slumber, I promise myself that if I ever hear the sound of that child being physically hurt I will do my duty and call the police. Wouldn't you?

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