That Constant Creak

20250520

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

As a child that floorboard was my nemesis. I never managed to avoid it. Its creaking gave away any attempts to sneak out of my room. I’d even get told off for “making so much noise” going to the loo in the middle of the night.
That obnoxious squeal as my foot landed, followed by a snickering creak as I jumped back off… I hated the stupid thing. My secret dream was the floor needing to be replaced and me being able to chop the noisy board up and burn it.
Now I’m so, so glad that never happened.
It was a constant presence as I grew. Never got louder even as I got bigger. But then, it’d been loud enough to start with. And I never grew numb. It was jarring and annoying every. Single. Time.
Then I went away to uni. Freedom! Not just from the floorboard. I was finding my way as an adult, forging into the real world, figuring it all out. My golden decade.
Until the bottom dropped out of the market and I had to move back in with my parents. Humiliating. But far better than the alternatives.
I’d honestly forgotten about that floorboard until it went off under my foot. My parents were as startled as me. They laughed and claimed it had been quiet while I was gone.
“It must have missed you!” My father joked.
I didn’t find it funny. My sense of humour was worn thin and this felt like another kick in the shin. But I forced a smile. It wasn’t their fault. None of this was their fault.
Having that annoying presence back in my life was infuriating. It quickly became the focus of my bubbling aimless fury at the world. That stupid. Fucking. Floorboard.
Time and again I wished I could swap rooms. But my sister’s room was now mum’s office. And it’d be silly, ungrateful even, to insist everything be moved around because of a single whiny floorboard.
So I suffered through it. Just another dollop of pointless misery.
Then, coming home from the Job Centre, I fell off my bike. Tires slipped out from under me as I rounded the corner by the library. No biggy, I thought. Yeah, I banged my head, but I was wearing my helmet, so it’s fine.
Headache set in a few hours later. Stress, I thought. Took aspirin and went to bed early.
I woke up in agony. Dragged myself out of bed to get water. Collapsed.
They wouldn’t have found me until morning. I’d have been lying there helpless, twitching and shivering, until the blood clot killed me.
Except I was twitching and shivering on that floorboard. And with every breath it screamed on my behalf.
…You know, since getting out of hospital I swear that floorboard’s quieter. The creak sounds more like a greeting than a snicker. I’m probably projecting. Gratitude does funny things to you.
But if I inherit the house, I’m never replacing that board.

Prompt was “Write a piece personifying a creaky floorboard in an old home”.