Cut Loose

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A slip from reality.

Submitted: May 25, 2009

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Submitted: May 25, 2009

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The line is silent except for the quiet breathing on the other end; Considering what to say next. The conversation consists of no words all because of an unwanted comment on my side of the line. It shouldn’t have crossed over to the other side. Those words should never have been spoken. They’ve stopped you mid-sentence. What’s wrong, sweetheart? You were so previously talkative, refusing to allow even the slightest break in your words. Now it seems that you have become mute. Your voice has been stolen from you. How much longer are you going to allow this to last? You cannot keep quiet for too long. It seems that that is what you are trying to do though. The silence becomes irritating. It is far worse than the words that could escape from either of our mouths. My lips part, tempted to say something to break the silence. I didn’t verbalize anything before that familiar ‘click’ sounded. The line is empty. There is no person waiting on the other side to hear more remarks. It is just me. I take the phone from my ear. I don’t mind being alone at this moment. It is a comforting thought. The phone makes a small noise as it closes shut.
I lay where I have been, without moving much. Realization makes its’ way to the front of my mind. A sensation of absolute numbness embraces me. I force myself to stand, dragging my feet slowly along the cold floor towards the bathroom. The nozzle to the sink turns easily. Water s plashes into the porcelain bowl before disappearing down the drain. My hands move slowly beneath the water, creating a shallow puddle in the cup that i have formed. The water gathers quickly, spilling over the edges of pale fingers. My hands raise towards my face with subtle speed, splashing the cold water against my skin. It drips down the surface that it has recently invaded and acts as nothing more than a cold slap across the face. My mind becomes lost within a jungle of thoughts that are tangled in my head. Thinking over the entire situation. Each part acts as a single piece of a puzzle. Once all the pieces are brought together, it depicts a jumbled image wit no real form. The pictures are so abstract in my mind. I cannot make sense of what I am seeing. None of the images are familiar though the emotion that I feel isn’t something new. Overwhelming emptiness eats away at everything. Time passes quickly but moves as slow as if no time has passed at all. Everything has become still.
I look up at the mirror that hangs just above the sink. I see the reflection of a hollow child, far too young to be an image of myself. Despite the adolescent features, this child is aged with eyes filled with complete loneliness. They are intense as they cut through my own gaze. I am entranced. This child has stolen all of my attention. Her eyes are becoming foggy. The color grows dull. The light that was previously brilliant is becoming dim. Soon, I can tell that there is nothing left of her. My eyes become heavy, much like the eyes that I have been staring at.
Hands grabbing onto the edge of the sink. I’ve nearly forgotten that I have been grasping it so desperately. They begin to slip slowly from the sinks surface. My grip has been loosened completely. My eyes begin to burn as a result from staring into the mirror for so long. I allow them to close once, causing them to close three more times in sequence. The image that I had been starting so intently at has been replaced with a more familiar reflection. One that I recognize instantly as my own. I am drawn back into reality, panicking as I consider how much time must’ve gone by.
I begin to think about the person that I had been previously speaking to. I feel guilty for leaving the phone somewhere on my bed. My feet take me unknowingly back into the dark bedroom. Breathing becomes more noticeable as I consider how much time I have wasted. I find the phone underneath a black blanket though I have no memory of how it got there.
Holding the phone in my hands, I begin to open it, anticipating at least one message that I unintentionally missed in my absence. Expecting a continuation to he previous conversation. The phone is open completely. The screen is empty wit only the time and date staring back at me. There are no messages. No missed phone calls.
This is my own fault.
I drop down onto the edge of the bed, staring at the screen in my stupidity. What was it that I really expected to see? Irritation with myself invades my mind. How could I have made myself so important in his mind?This is a routine that I have yet to learn from. The scenes are all the same. They will not cease to occur in their assigned order. It is known so well though it must have slipped my mind. Escaped just to be replaced momentarily with hope that this time it would be different. Too optimistic at the instant for my own good.
I slip into the refuge of my own mind though I find no solitude in my escape. I want to fade into unconsciousness; lose myself in a blank world that has no meaning. I allow my body to collapse onto the bed. My head hits the pillow gently. Eyes suddenly growing tired. I can tell that they are soon to close for what I hope to be forever. And as I drift away into nothingness, something jerks me back to total awareness.
The cause of this slip back into reality? The relentless vibrations of the device that sits beside my head. There are two options. One: stop the persistent noise by answering its call. Or two: allow it to act as a lullaby as I force myself sleep.

I choose the latter.


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