A Soul's Caress: Breathe

Messages

The buzzing of his cell phone was a jackhammer cutting through Zayne's hungover brain. He mindlessly hit the small device several times pleading with it to stop but it wouldn't listen. His fingers couldn't seem to find the off button so he ended up throwing the damn thing across the room to make it stop. After lying in bed a few minutes cursing himself and his current situation, he sat up to find his phone. That's when the world began its nauseating spin and the contents of his stomach began their ascent. Quickly stumbling into the bathroom, he worshiped the porcelain god.

Twice.

Crawling into the shower on his hands and knees, Zayne turned the water on and sat down under its cold waterfall. He breathed heavily trying to will his body back to sobriety as he lifted his head to accept his punishment. Once the fog began lifting and his mind started clearing, he stood sluggishly and removed his wet clothes.

He looked at them puddled at the back of the shower floor, suddenly realizing they were the same clothes he had on last night when he left his apartment.

How did I get home? What the hell happened?

So many questions jostled inside his throbbing head as he finished washing the liquor from last night and the vomit from this morning off his aching body. He thanked whatever deity was listening that it was summer and there were no children for him to teach today.

His body numb and thoughts clear, he turned the shower off and toweled himself dry before collapsing back in bed. Pulling the red sheets and black comforter over his chilled naked body, he drifted back to sleep in a matter of seconds.

When he awoke the second time, Zayne looked at the nightstand in search of his phone. But, instead of laying eyes on what he thought was there, he saw things that should not have been there.

A bottle of water, a pack of electrolyte drink tablets, and a box of crackers all sat neatly arranged on top of the cluttered table. There was a small piece of paper tucked under the bottle of water that simply read 'Please'. Zayne looked around his room and listened for signs of another person in his apartment but everything was still and silent. Just like it always was.

He had to make sure, though, so he called out hesitantly.

"Hello?"

Only the sound of midtown traffic and the low hum of his air conditioning answered back. Figuring one of his friends had helped him home, he made a promise to thank them the next time they met and plopped one of the tablets into the water. He drank slowly, testing his stomach's acceptance of the liquid concoction. Next, he opened the box of wheat crackers, put one to his mouth, and started nibbling on it.

As he nursed himself, he saw his phone lying on the floor by his closet. Moving slowly, Zayne retrieved his now forgiven device and immediately returned to his nest of rumpled bed coverings. He lifted the phone and waited for facial recognition.

"Twenty-seven messages? What the hell?!"

And it wasn't just his messaging app that had numbers next to it. Clicking on the phone icon, he quickly realized that Chris had called him four times before resorting to text messages. Most of the texts were from Chris but there were others scattered in as well. As he scrolled through the list, he began to put the pieces of last night's puzzle together.

His friends were not the ones who brought him home.

Did you make it home ok?

Just hit any key to let me know you're still alive.

Hey Sketch, come on. I'm really worried. Send me something, please.

That guy better not have done anything to you or he's going to have the whole force on his ass!