Death was everywhere and I was at its core. I became the grim reaper when I went online, to the point that my controller begun to fear the ferociousness in the way I maneuvered it. Quicker than the quick-scope, the game started lagging trying to keep up with me.
And then it happened.
My gaming nightmare had time to kill. She was online.
Gunshots emerged from my phone and my heart hid behind my lungs.
I was in no position to hold a phone and shoot enemies at the same time. I settled with the risk of having the caller on speaker, “Hey,” she said.
“Hey, what's up?” I kept my eyes on the screen and finger on the trigger. “What you doing?”
“Nothing . . .”
The exact opposite of what I was doing.
The sound of button combinations filled the silence between us.
“Uhm . . .” Headshot! I continued down the path of glory. “How was your day?” I asked her; only cause mine was going great.
“Good . . .” she replied.
My eyes turned to the phone, completely judging her speech. Surely her English teacher taught her the concept of full sentences. “Uh . . .” I focused on the game, trying to dodge lasers which managed to trim my character's hair and beard. “That's cool,” I finally replied to her.
In the moments of silence, the buttons continued to expose what my priorities were.
“So you just go play the game instead of talking to me, huh?”
‘You know this isn’t the 1950s, hey. Men are now capable of multi-tasking just like women are,’ I wouldn't dare let that slip out of my mouth. Instead I said, “It's not like that . . .” Struggling to multi-task, I stumbled with my words, “It's just –”
“No, you know what!” her voice alone pierced my lung in an attempt to get to my heart. “You play your silly game. Byyyeee . . .”
My eyes were locked on my phone screen.
Was it over?
My heart peeped from behind its protection and shook like an aftershock had hit it. The organ belonged to her, and she told me to continue playing my video game. It only felt right to listen to what my heart said.
I obeyed and then my body froze when the earthquake rumbled next to me. I tried to press the button to ignore it, but my finger had a will of its own, “So you just not go call me back, huh?” her voice louder than the ringtone.
. . .
Follow and Join the Journey!
YOU ARE READING
One Terrible Day (Short Stories)
Short StoryJason finds himself in the police station after his ex-girlfriend is run over by a bus. A man struggles to tell his date what he does for a living. A rich man can't seem to understand why women only date him for his money, so he asks Siri. These are...
