"What do you want?!", she said out loud as she looked at her caller ID. It was him again. That annoying humming noise she hated began to ring in her ears. She closed her eyes to help pacify the sound in her head and tossed her iPhone on the bed. The darkness wasn't helping. She would need to lay down. Everytime he calls, she goes through this. Her world becomes a little more grey. Keeping her eyes closed she blindly curled into the fetal position and balled her tiny hands into fists by her head. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." No matter how reassuring her words, a tear always seem to escape the bars that her eyelashes were providing. She was feeling overwhelmed. Her mother told her the best way to get through moments like this but when the emotions took over, she forgot everything. All rationale was lost. More tears flooded her face and began to soak the white duvet cover she bought earlier in the week. She loved duvet covers and currently had 10 of them stuffed in her linen closet. But as was her subconscious rule, she never used a duvet cover twice. She tried to, but the memories associated with that large piece of fabric would set her off into a tunnel of sadness. 'Britton used to love me under this cover... I'll just die without him... I'm going to be lonely forever... What's the use of living...' After re-gaining her strength and sensibilities approximately 1 month after each of her man-induced breakdowns, she'd fold the duvet, stuff it on the top shelf, and buy a new one. The current, tear-stained duvet cover under her tiny body was number 11. 11 men, 11 duvet covers. The muscles in her stomach began to release causing her fetal position to lax a little. Her legs began to straighten and her fists were no longer clenched. "Breathe. Breathe. Breathe." Rolling over onto her back, she opened her eyes and wiped the remaining tears from her temples. "You know better than this," she chastised to the ceiling. "Get it together. Count to 10 and then get up. 1...2...3...4..." The vibrations by her knee distracted her count. "You have an incoming call. Answer the phone. You have an incoming call." A ghastly pang struck her stomach. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rolled back into the fetal position and clenched her fists back into tiny balls. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry."
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Untitled
"What do you want?!", she said out loud as she looked at her caller ID. It was him again. That annoying humming noise she hated began to ring in her ears. She closed her eyes to help pacify the sound in her head and tossed her iPhone on the bed. The darkness wasn't helping. She would need to lay down. Everytime he calls, she goes through this. Her world becomes a little more grey. Keeping her eyes closed she blindly curled into the fetal position and balled her tiny hands into fists by her head. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." No matter how reassuring her words, a tear always seem to escape the bars that her eyelashes were providing. She was feeling overwhelmed. Her mother told her the best way to get through moments like this but when the emotions took over, she forgot everything. All rationale was lost. More tears flooded her face and began to soak the white duvet cover she bought earlier in the week. She loved duvet covers and currently had 10 of them stuffed in her linen closet. But as was her subconscious rule, she never used a duvet cover twice. She tried to, but the memories associated with that large piece of fabric would set her off into a tunnel of sadness. 'Britton used to love me under this cover... I'll just die without him... I'm going to be lonely forever... What's the use of living...' After re-gaining her strength and sensibilities approximately 1 month after each of her man-induced breakdowns, she'd fold the duvet, stuff it on the top shelf, and buy a new one. The current, tear-stained duvet cover under her tiny body was number 11. 11 men, 11 duvet covers. The muscles in her stomach began to release causing her fetal position to lax a little. Her legs began to straighten and her fists were no longer clenched. "Breathe. Breathe. Breathe." Rolling over onto her back, she opened her eyes and wiped the remaining tears from her temples. "You know better than this," she chastised to the ceiling. "Get it together. Count to 10 and then get up. 1...2...3...4..." The vibrations by her knee distracted her count. "You have an incoming call. Answer the phone. You have an incoming call." A ghastly pang struck her stomach. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rolled back into the fetal position and clenched her fists back into tiny balls. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry."
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7 comments:
Wow! Your're back! It's nice to see that you're honing your literary skills again. This story is very dark and I felt very sorry for this young woman...so you definitely hit the mark. Please do a part 2 cause this chick needs hope....
AHHH!! It was dark i guess but I thought it was funny!! A lost soul who counts her men by duvet covers!! What a great relationship and very symbolic. I mean... there are a plethera of interpretations. Clearly she uses the duvet covers to keep her warm at night and cover up what's really inside. The only time she see's her real comforter is when she's changing to the next one. Has she forgotten what its like without the duvet???? Maybe she should get reaquainted with the comforter again before trying on another duvet.
@ Deja: Ah! Very deep! Piggy backing on your interpretation, what she needs to do is to get rid of the duvet covers, thus getting rid of the men in her life. If she keeps stuffing herself (as the comforter) into the duvet covers (men), she'll lose herself.
@ anonymous - Yes I'm back! I'm glad you liked it. As for a part 2...It's hard to do part 2's because my stories are SO out of the blue and random, but I'll try. I need to learn how to follow through and still keep people's attention. If she ends up fixed though, I fear the story die. We'll see.
What is going on here!? more more!! lol
@ mystery - lol! I'll try!
I was really intrigued by it and agree with deja's comment.
love!
get it deja...
i loved this piece j...can't wait for more!
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