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Escape from Heartbreak

Short story By: The Ragamufin
Other



A story of heartbreak.


Submitted:Jun 11, 2012    Reads: 30    Comments: 3    Likes: 2   


"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" I practically yelled down the phone. "How could you do this?!"

"Don't play the innocent card on me, you arsehole! You've ignored me for months on end! Treated me like a piece of shit! He was kind to me, George! What was I suppose to do!"

"I wasn't ignoring you!" I said, the salty taste of tears trickling into the corners of his mouth "I was busy! You knew that! I was working so that we could have a better life, Stacey! You're the asshole! YOU'RE THE ONE THAT CHEATED ON ME WITH MY GOD-DANM BROTHER!"

I would have carried on shouting, but I heard the dial tone ringing in my ear so I slammed the phone back its hook. My head began to spin so I leant it on the dirty telephone, bashed my fist against the wall and wept. Passersby glanced at me though the scratched glass, having heard the exclamation, before briskly walking pass, in fear of being seen taking an interest in the drama going on inside that cramped telephone box. After what felt like 10 hours, I stumbled out of the telephone box, lit a cigarette and headed home.

As I walked to the tube, I couldn't help but think about her. The bitch, I thought; my heart tight with rage. After everything I've done for her: Moved across the ocean, to god's toilet so that she could have a "better" job, only for her to quit 5 weeks later after a petty argument over a broken photocopier. Got a job working nights at a shitty fast food restraint (which I liked to call it dick-head central after the people who ate there,) gave her every little inconvenient thing she ask for, without so much as asking to be thanked, and this is what she does? Screws my brother and goes to whales with him, giving only 5 minutes notice. Well, as I said: bitch.

I got the Bakerloo line southbound train to elephant and castle. Fortunately, it was close to midnight; so the carriages where almost empty and I could be somewhat alone and at piece. Unfortunately, the only other people in the carriage were a young couple, no older than 27, passionately making out with each other without any apparent intension of stopping for the rest of the journey so I sat at the other end of the carriage and tried my best to look away. Despite my efforts, I noticed the blond girl was wearing a shining ring on here forth finger. She must have just got engaged, presumably, to the curly haired guy she was currently making out with who was either trying to feel her up, or trying to guess her bra size. I couldn't help but feel an itch of regret that I hadn't asked Stacey to marry me before she left him; thinking that if I had, she wouldn't have left. I tried to stop this feeling by imagining that within a year of their marriage, the blonde girl would become fat and ugly and the curly haired guy would cheat on her with a beautiful actress before her finding out and hiring an assassin to kill them both. I then realised that I had been playing far too many assassin games online and tried not to think of anything until I got home.

The feeling of walking into my now empty 4th floor flat was similar to that of walking into a dark cave on the beach. I got that eerie horror-movie sensation. As if I could never leave if I decided to enter. As if my life, as I knew it would soon be taken. I flicked the lights on and walked in. I had only just noticed the familiar smell of stale salt when it hit me.

It was empty. Pictures had been torn from walls along with a lifetime of memories; three quarters of the DVDs on our shelves had vanished leaving only crude slapstick comedy, bloody war films and a small amount of pornography. Most of the food had been taken so I just pulled out a bottle of WKD and left dinner at that. I don't drink much alcohol but there's something about WKDs that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It wasn't so much that it was a magical, translucent blue, so much as it reminded me of these blue popsicles that I consumed dozens of during my first 7 years of life, which comforted me. However, this bottle, as many a classic story has taught me, brought me no comfort. She was gone.

I had to think so I walked towards the large open window, as it was the closest thing we ever had to a balcony, and leant against the ledge. I thought of her and my brother and all the stuff they had taken along with 10 years of my life and how I missed her…

…And then nothing. I had ceased to think because of one massive and insignificant thought; whispered deep in my mind's ravine.

"You know, you don't have to put up with this. You can escape the pain. It's easy. Do it!"

I did.

I dropped the bottle, spilling its contents on to the hard, rough carpet, and fell into the soft ether. I let gravity embrace me with her welcoming arms and felt the air stroke my hair with her cold finger tips. I was escaping out if this world and into darkness: Safe, beautiful, Darkness.





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