It was quiet

I don't know what went through my head, except pain ...-.-

***

It was so quiet tonight.
So eerily quiet.
The nights before it was loud.
I am ashamed because I enjoyed being able to sleep.
The hard oak floorboards crackle under my bare feet.
The door is ajar.
The sky blue of the wall shines coldly through the room.
It's right in the middle.
The little bed. With bated breath I go closer.
I carefully pull the blanket off his face.
It is pale.
Shivering, I stretch out my finger and stroke my cold, tender cheek.
I start to shiver and carefully take it out of bed.
My child.
It doesn't move.
I gently wrap it in its blanket and sit against the wall, my little body pressed against my chest.
The lips are already blue, they are slightly open, as if the last breath has just taken off.
I can't take my eyes off my closed eyes.I kissed him goodnight last night.
Very easy.
He's already slept.
I covered him up and turned on the night light.
Even the music box that hangs over his bed and that he likes to reach with his little finger is wound up.
Four white and one black sheep are hanging on it.
The soft fluff on his head is wet with my tears.
Startled, I wipe them away.
Nothing can disturb my baby.
It is still sleeping.
Most certainly.
It sleeps, I'm sure of that.
I will stay here.
Watch over him until he wakes up again.
I want to see his smile, like every morning when I come back to his room after a long night.
His smile.
It looks down at me from the cupboard and dresser.
All small photos framed in silver.
The little face shines with joy over a rattle, a cookie, a beetle and a piece of paper.
He was so frugal.
The smallest piece, so worthless to me, gave him pleasure.I was not frugal with a few hours of rest at night. But…
It was quiet tonight.
So eerily quiet.