Will I ever make it home....: Call Me

Will I ever make it home....

Monday, October 16, 2006

Call Me

This is an entry for The Scheherazade Project. Enjoy. And for those who come to read, please criticize away! I would love to improve my writing skills. Thanks a million!

Sammy walked around in a drunken stupor into the tiny restroom. She looked at her reflection in the dirty mirror and almost shuddered in regret. Why had she decided to take all those shots? It's not like she didn't know how much she could take, if anything she was an expert at knowing her limitations. Her reflection had a sad desperation in it's eyes. She stumbled closer into the streaky mirror and turned the knob on the filthy faucet. The clean water flowed into her hands, and she took a palm full splashing it on the crusty mirror. The filth streaked down in sad tears. She could see her face much more clearly. The green paint in the bathroom gave her face an eerily dead look. She leaned over the sink and peered closer. Her make-up was half sweated off, half smeared under her eyes. Her cheeks were deep hollows. Her lips not full anymore. Her eyes seemed to sag with tiny wrinkles. The sweat dripped off her forehead. Her hair seemed thin and sparse as it was matted to her skin with sweat and hairspray. But the thing that struck her the most, was her empty eyes.

She stumbled away quickly as she muttered to herself. She tripped over unseen things on the floor. Trying to catch herself before falling to the floor, she quickly grabbed on to the stall's door. As she crashed to the ground she found her hand had landed onto some ancient graffiti. Suddenly an old pain hit her. It was a deep throbbing in her chest. She knew what it was, but decided agaisnt acknowledging it. The heartache grew in spurts throughout her body. It was furious and boiling this time. Certainly this had to be the worst night of her life. Slipping into the sudden depression, she caressed the name before her. The door was covered with obscenities and drawings of body parts, by unsteadily drunk hands. She whispered the name into the door, as if he were some lover of her past. Imagination and her drunken stupor got the best of her when she began to see herself walking down the aisle in a pristine white gown, and walking towards "Danny". Their kiss lingered on her lips, and they walked away from the altar as husband and wife. She leaned her head back to get into their limosine, but was snapped back to the soiled stall.

Her hand was clasping the stall door, and she could feel the vibrations of the jukebox playing in the bar. How could she return to that? How could she have the courage to look at his face? To see him in his happiness? She hated the fact that he had moved on without her. That he had found what she had wished for them. And after all this time, she could still feel how frantic she had been with him. Had clung on to him, as he carelessly strung her along. Blistering tears welled up in her eyes. A fire grew inside of her. She banged her head agaisnt the stall, willing herself not to cry. She wiped her eyes. Held her head up high with a small grin on her face. Her cell phone was in her hand before she realized that she had already dialed the number on the door.

"Talk" Her finger hovered over it. It quickly moved over to "End". The numbers light up the dark stall staring omninously at her. 555-0947. What was she doing? She almost laughed out loud at her hopelessness. She sighed heavily. Oh, what the hell? It's probably a wrong number anyway, she thought to herself. But what if that is this "Danny"? And why had someone put his actual number on the stall door. Before she had finished her thoughts, she heard ringing. Oh, no! I pressed the button without realizing it! The phone rested on her shoulder. She took out her lipgloss and messily put some on.

Ring.

Ring.

Okay, that's four rings. I can't. As her finger hovered over the "End" button she thought she heard a voice.

"Hello?"

Oh, crap. Someone actually answered. Two choices, Sam. Two. Hang up. Or talk. She breathed rapidly.

"Uhhm...hi. Is this....Danny?", She said softly. Her mind was racing along with her heart. She could feel the pulse vibrating agaisnt the phone.

"Yeah. Who is this?", a sleepy, but kind voice came through.

"I'm sorry for bothering you-"

"Is it Joey? Is he alright?"

"-Oh, this has nothing to with uhm-- I'm sorry... I, uh...well, I found your number- and I know this must sound really weird but I decided to call."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I am Samantha, by the way, just in case you were wondering. You know? So, yeah."

"Okay, hi Samantha. Can I call you, Sam..or Sammy? This is akward. Do you usually call strangers in the night?"

"Uhmm..sure...whatever you want, you know? And yeah. Well, I've never done anything like this....and I figured...what the hell. You know what I mean? I just...you know. Didn't think it was a real number....and it is...And now it's...wow...."

"Hmm...I don't know what to say. It's sort of like a twilight zone thing....I...uhm...okay...so where are you? Why did you call me?"

"Ha ha ha...I'm at the bar. You know the one in town, with the pool tables. It's pretty boring here. I...don't know why I called you, in the first place. I guess...I just took a chance. Maybe like, you want to meet up, you know? Or--something...yeah?" She tried not to sound desperate.

"Sure. Be there in 10 minutes. See you there." And he hung up. She literally would have falllen if she wasn't crouched on the floor. Her hand started to close her cell phone. While her body was responsive she stared at his name on the bathroom door, blankly. Ten minutes, Sammy. You got ten. Leave. Leave, right now. Just go. He'll never know. Her mind was racing with clashing thoughts. She wanted to flee her drunkeness. Wanted to lie in her own bed. Except, not alone. She wanted to meet him and do the things that made her happy. She would be better this time. Not cling too tightly. She would play it coy. Afterall...the number worked. And he was on his way.

Sammy was scrambling to get up to the mirror while taking the lipgloss out of her purse once again. She got a hold of the lipgloss, and was smiling back at her reflection. For an instant, there was a real glimmer in her eyes. As she slipped and hit her head on the sink, her eyes and heart sank into the sadness that had beheld her. Before she realized what was happening, she hit the ground. But she didn't feel a thing.

A short time later, "Danny" walked into the bar. He scanned the bar, the pool tables only to find older women and drunk men playing pool or drinking alone. He walked over to the bar to ask the bartender, but decided agaisnt it. As he walked out, he shrugged his shoulders, and thought it was a cruel joke. Danny glanced back looking hopefully to see someone there looking for him. He left into the cool night, seething with anger, as she lay there without pain for the first time in her life for a long time.

posted by The Devil @ 7:17 AM

6 Comments:

At 2:30 PM, Faith said…

What a sad story! You really brought out the deep emotions and things that Sammy was going through. Good job.
At 2:41 PM, The Devil said…

Thanks a million. I was hoping to capture that angst and desperation you see sometimes in the bathrooms of bars and such. You know that quiet loneliness.
At 1:23 PM, Izzybella said…

Oh, my gosh, that's SO sad! You definitely captured the loneliness and desperation.

And also, drunk dialing is BAD! :)

Nice job.
At 4:00 PM, RC666 said…

Why do people come comment on your writing but not on mine?! I guess I scare people...lol.
At 7:43 AM, The Devil said…

Welcome, Izzy...

Yeah, it's not too hard for me to remember those days. Ha ha ha....

I didn't want a sappy ending, I wanted something to be built up, and shattered. I guess that's just the writing style I have. But thank you for your gracious words.

RC: Ugh, did you put a link on the S page? I don't know, maybe it's too dark....but I still thought it was a good story.
At 9:23 AM, CG said…

I really enjoyed it, the emotions, the hope amidst the hopelesness. And the ending is good -- I'm sorry for his anger (and hoo-boy, did he take a chance? or is he just horny?) but glad for her relief. And I have to admit, for hope to stay alive, sometimes it does have to die real quick like that.

The only verite criticism I'd offer is include all the senses -- that bathroom smells, the back of her throat tastes green, whatever. Bring it into 3D.