After Chicago

Here's one from freshman year in college. When I look at it now, there are a few things I would write differently. I decided to keep in it's original form. The assignment was to write a piece that relies heavily or is based primarily on dialogue. It doesn't really require an explanation or any background beyond that.

After Chicago
He broke the silence. “I’m going to the bar.”
“Please don’t start this again,” she said, raising two fingers to her right temple and began to vigorously massage the skin.
“I’m not starting anything.” His voice bellowed, penetrating the bedroom door.

A small girl sat alone on the stairs at the end of the poorly lit hallway, her warm palms pressed firmly on her ears.

“Why do you always do this?” the woman sighed, slowly shaking her head.
“What am I doing now, huh? There’s always something.”
“You just got back from Chicago. We haven’t seen you in a week and all you can think about it going to the bar.” She paused. “You and that damn bar.”
His jaw stiffened. “You’re right. I did just get back from a long trip. I want to relax and play some darts. Why are you always against me going out? Why can’t I enjoy life for once?”
“So your family isn’t enjoyable? You can’t relax at home? Why is nothing here good enough for you?” She glared at him. “Why do you even bother to come back at all!”

The girl squeezed her eyes shut. Her nose crinkled and her toes curled under the balls of her feet.

The man swung his arms backwards so that the side of his fist slammed into the bedroom door behind him. The doorknob rattled. “Why are you always so God damned difficult!”
“So wanting you home for more than five minutes a week is considered being ‘difficult’ now?” She crossed her arms staring into his eyes as she clenched her teeth.
“Since when is wanting to go out a crime?” he stiffly retorted.
“You’re so selfish.”
“And you’re a manipulative bitch,”
“Where is this coming from?” She took a deep breath through gaping lips and her brow furrowed slightly.
They stood for a moment in silence. A sliver of yellow light slipped through the closed blinds.

The girl let out a whimper as her tear fell to the plush blue carpet beneath her feet.

The woman sealed her eyes and as she faced downward towards her shoulder. “Look what you’ve done,” she whispered softly.
“I can’t deal with this.” He swung the door open and made his way down the hall. Each floorboard let out a small cry from underneath his weight. He walked passed the girl, grabbing a set of keys off a bronze hook in the kitchen then walked through the door. The garage door shook the floor of the bedroom in which the woman was still standing.
She walked down the hallway and cradled the sobbing child and walked into the family room. She sat down on a dark brown couch and kissed the girl’s forehead.
“Don’t cry, pumpkin. Shhh. Don’t cry.”
The woman’s eyes watered as she pressed her lip against the girl’s warm skin.