Short, Short Stories

Reminisce.

Dragging my feet across the dimly lit hallways of my apartment complex, my half-open eyes try to make out my surroundings. After another long and late shift, I only want to get some shut-eye. Jamming the key into the keyhole and turning the knob, I slump inside, kicking off my shoes and mindlessly throwing my purse onto the sofa nearby. I walk into my room and catch a glimpse of all the postcards and polaroids pinned on my corkboard, the model train, the vases of dried bouquets of baby's breath flowers around my room.. And.. his scarf around my neck..

I gently set aside-no, I ripped the scarf off, not wanting the memories to return. I come back to my senses and quickly wash up, change into my pajamas, and throw myself onto the bed. The fatigue from work slowly sets in. and I feel myself starting to doze off...

***

I blink a few times and look around. I find myself at the train station, the early December snow fluttering down slowly around us. I see him in front of me, talking and smiling, but I can't seem to make out what he's saying. He gives me a bouquet of solely baby's breath flowers and this time, I manage to catch a few of his words.

"I know this bouquet seems stupid, but I read somewhere that these flowers symbolize love - love that lasts forever."

He gives me one of his dimpled smiles that I love. I smile back at him. He takes off his gray-black scarf and wraps it around me, I look down and touch the scarf affectionately, then look back up to say something when he turns around to board the train car. Something in me, perhaps the overwhelming feeling of deja vu I felt caused me to run and reach out to him. I want to reach him, and tell him that I was grateful for the gifts he gave me, but why can't I?

As I was about to catch up to him, I suddenly found myself on the street, spilling the watery soup of the cheap ramen I bought from the convenience shop. I try to make myself steady, and look around, just to make sure nobody saw me make a fool of myself. I sigh, looking down at my work blouse, (seeing) that the reddish-orange of the ramen soup makes a large stain. I mentally curse at myself for staining one of the only good white blouses I own, continue eating what's left of the ramen, and make my way back home. Taking the same route I always do from the office to the apartment, I notice something a little different, a red dial phone in front of the abandoned mini-mart. An old lady was sitting nearby. I try to continue walking, but that same sense of deja vu hits me, so I decided to approach the dial phone. The old lady sitting nearby says,

"My dear, did you know that this phone allows you to communicate with anyone you miss? It's such a wonderful invention, yes. When you dial the number of the person you choose to talk to, it connects you to them."

I look at her, skeptical of her words. No way can an old dial phone be used to communicate with the dead... Can it?

I look at the phone. My brows furrowed, unsure whether or not I should take the risk. I look back at the old lady, who simply gave me a reassuring smile, nodding her head to the phone. I set my empty ramen bowl down, picked up the phone, dialed his number, and put the phone near my ear.

A second of silence...

A minute...

I felt stupid, putting my hopes into an old rusty phone. I was about to put it down when I suddenly heard his voice.

"Hey... Can you hear me? I'm sorry I took a while to answer, Delilah, you know how busy I am..."

I froze in shock, not being able to catch the rest of his words. My hands began to shake, and I started to tear up. Dropping the phone, I start running, covering my mouth to suppress the tears. I don't know where I was running, but all I wanted to do was to get away from that damned phone. I didn't want to hear from him. Not again.

Miraculously, I ended up at my apartment complex after some time running mindlessly. I try to contain myself as I enter my apartment, but as soon as I walk through the door, I rush to my room in a fury, ripping down the pictures of us, throwing out any flowers, teddy bears, hoodies, or just anything that reminds me of him.

In my fit of rage, I grabbed the picture frame of our first year together. I raised my arm, ready to throw the frame and watch it break into a million pieces, (wanting to destroy what made me miss him the most) but I felt a hand wrap around my wrist, stopping me.

"Stop. This isn't you, Delilah."

I freeze in my place.

No.

It can't be you. You're dead. You're dead, Jacob.

I turn my head, and see the face of the person I hated, yet loved the most. Jacob.

"But.. How? How are you alive? I thought you were dead, and that you died in that damned war." I said angrily through the tears, each word lined with venom, the pent-up hatred I held against him.

He took the picture frame from me, setting it down on the dresser I took it from, and scooped me into his arms. In his embrace, I let all my feelings out. Anger, regret, sadness, longing. I cried it all out in his arms.

He rubbed circles on my back as I bawled in his arms, I don't know how long I've suppressed these feelings for, but God, it felt good to let it out.

"Love, why did you bottle up those feelings? You and I know you can't bombard yourself with work to cope. It's unhealthy. I want you to feel what you feel and not bottle it up, you know?"

I look up at him, tears still streaming down my face. He used his thumb to wipe away the tears in my right eye.

Suddenly, he starts to become transparent, like a ghost. His touch, so warm and comforting, suddenly became cold as ice.

"I'm sorry, Delilah. I don't have much time left. But please, move on and live without me. That's all I want. Can you do that for me?"

"No.. No! Why are you leaving me again? Please... Please, Jacob. Stay with me a little longer." I gasp out, choking on my sobs as I try to cling to his disappearing body.

He gives me a faint smile, barely showing his dimples. I can see the regret in his eyes, as he embraces me for the last time.

***

I wake up in a cold sweat, trying to catch my breath. I rub my eyes, grab my phone from the nightstand, and open the camera app. My eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. I looked around my room, finding that nothing had changed. No pictures were taken down, all the little trinkets and flowers he had given me throughout the years we'd been together were still on the shelves. The picture frame I'd attempted to destroy in my dream reflected the early June sunlight that seeped into the shutters in my room.

I changed apps and opened my contacts. I frantically scrolled through the dozens of numbers I had saved until I found it.

I opened the conversation and reread the text messages. With shaky hands, I pressed the voice message, throwing the phone in front of me and sitting on the bed, hunched over as I listened to the last message Jacob left for me before he died.

"Delilah, I'm recording this message just in case I don't make it. I'm sorry for making this decision. I never meant to hurt you by leaving, but I want to keep you safe, keep everyone and everything we know safe. I hope that after this, you'll still keep our stuff and think of those happy memories when you miss me. Don't be sad, Love. Please, when I die, can you move on and live without me? That's all I want."

                                                                               Fin.

Word count: 1399