The Mechanics of The Heart (Unedited)

13

Amara Joseph

I can't breathe.
My chest heaves as I swipe my hair out of my face, my body feel restricted. The sheets have wrapped around in my thrashing and the sheet of cold sweat blanketed over my skin makes me itch.

"Come on Amara." My ears ring as I slap my hands over them, squeezing my eyes shut in a vain attempt to fight off the nightmare clawing it's way into consciousness. It's claws dig into my back and I sob, my body recoils into itself as my stomach twist and I choke back my own vomit.

Across the room my phone buzzes like a hive of wasp on the motel dresser and I curl into myself. Pulling my knees into my chest, pressing my skull into my kneecaps.
It feels like agony has built a home in my chest and each breath is a wind storm pressing against the walls.

"Don't be like that, we've been friends since we were kids."
"No, no, no, no." I was falling apart. I was calling it a night mare but there were scars burning my body that only I could feel, only I could see and they were writing out the memories in a blazing ink.

Mom was so wrong. I thought, if we were truly galaxies before we were humans- he was a black hole, a void of endless nothingness and contestant taking. And now he had taken everything from me.

"-ello?" There was shuffling on the other line before her voice chirped. "Hello?"
My hands were still shaking, sighing I squeezed the cord of the hotel phone until it felt like nothing in my hands and my nails were stabbing into my palms.
"Hey it's Amara." I cleared my throat, wincing at the rasp that coated my throat from crying myself to sleep.

"Oh- hey! I was just about to call you, you were supposed to get your check after dinner and I completely forgot." Her tone was apologetic and I frowned deeper.

"Check? But it's only been a few days."

"Oh shoot- did I forget to tell you? your pay is weekly, we don't have much work to do, especially with how hard you work- which I appreciate immensely- I think the least I can do is put a paycheck in ya hand each week." Despite my need for the money and the gratitude I felt, her words of appreciation had left me stone tongued, eyes stinging with a round of fresh tears.

Swallowing past the burning ache in my throat, I say,
"Yeah, no of course, working with you has been great. I-um I was actually calling because I was wondering if you could give me Bullets number?" The more I spoke, the more the burning left my eyes and fell into my cheeks. It was like a fog was slowly lifting off my brain.

I was asking my boss for her brothers number.

"I'm supposed to meet him at his shop to get work done on my car but-"

"Amara you don't have to explain anything to me, do you have a pen?" Her amused tone threw me off guard for a moment and I paused for a heartbeat before grabbing the pen and pad next to the motel phone.
"Oh and before I forget, our next showing will be next week Saturday."
"Okay, I'll be there." I can practically hear her smile as she thanks me and we release the call with little to no words after that.

The silence in the room is mockingly loud as I stare at the hotel phone resting on the dock now. I had hung up with Bambi almost an entire hour ago but I still had yet to dial the numbers I had written with shaky hands.
But I would rather stumble through a phone call than face the embarrassment of having to face him after essentially- standing him up. The man had offered to fix my car, the least I could do was let him know I was declining his offer.

I ran my fingers through my hair, wincing as it snagged against the knots and I was reminded again of how much of a mess I was. Running a hand down my face I gulp down the very little pride I had left, staring out the window as the line rang out.

"Yeah?" His voice was deep, a sounded like a rumble of an earthquake and rasped like he just woke up but I knew better, that rasp was always there.
I stuttered for a moment, was that how he answered the phone?
"Hey, it's Amara." I decide to search the sky, the days here was spent under relentless sunshine and today seemed no different, there wasn't a cloud in sight.
"Hey, everything okay?" His question details me and I pull back from the window, pulling the phone closer to my ear.
"Huh?"
"You said you were going to be here an hour ago, I would've called you myself but I don't have your number." There's a click on the other side and a murmur in the background, he grunts and then there's silence again. "Amara, are you there?"

I blink, "Y-yes, yeah sorry I don't feel well and I haven't had time to buy a new phone." I gazed at my shutoff phone on the nightstand. The battery had drained again from the constant ringing and I knew if I plugged it in again it would just start ringing again.

"You're sick?" I found myself a loss for words a lot during what was supposed to be a brief phone call, his tone dipped in worry floating over the receiver, I blinked again, I had hardly slept anyways - my mind was playing tricks on me.

"O-I, well-"

"I can just bring my tools, if you think you feel bad now. You keep riding around in that hotbox you'll feel worse." His offer seemed casual, not even a bother for him.

I glanced around my dark and cluttered motel room, there was containers of instant macaroni and Gatorade bottles scattered around and I was very obviously living out of my duffel tossed on the small couch in the corner. The bathroom was no better.

I bit my lip, would I be a bitch to decline a second time? He was even offering to come and work on it.

"Uhm yeah I guess that's okay. Can you call when your outside? Do you know where the motel south of town is?"

"Yeah I do, see you in twenty, firefly."
I'm given no time to respond as the call clicks.
Firefly.
A chill twirls around my spine like a vine and butterflies flutter their wings on the walls of my belly.