The Phone Rang

The phone rang. Again and again. Each time replaying that same old generic cheesy dial tone that used to bring me comfort. Its incessant noise piercing my skull, interrupting the signals that my body was sending. Causing the despair in my heart to grow even larger. Encasing my now crouched shaking figure with a constant darkness.

It was too late, though. I couldn't take back or change what had happened even if I tried. It was set in stone and it was time to take responsibility for my actions. I couldn't continue living a lie, living like my world wasn't crashing and burning, igniting everyone I cared for in the most painful way possible.

I was a mess, disgustingly disorganised. Constantly replaying every choice, I made leading up to this moment. The hot salty tears streaming down my face, as I bit onto my - his - sweater hoping to suppress the screams desperately trying to claw their way out of me. My bitten down to the bed nails, roughly digging into my skin, trying to grasp and pull myself back together. But no matter what I did, I just couldn't seem to heal myself. It was like a part of me was resisting, purposefully destroying any hope I had left.

Hope that one day, I'd get over him. That his name wouldn't taste so bitter and foreign on my tongue. But, after everything how could I expect myself to just get over him. Not when he promised me forever, something I never imagined until I fell for the copious amounts of love he held within only his eyes. At that point I would have never been able to imagine how someone so sweet and loving would be dying inside, shattering my world with his fading heartbeat.

That was some foolish dream now that I think about it. Me, some innocent girl believing the first words that came out of his honest, kind-hearted smiling face. Genuinely thinking that he would keep his promise, that he would never leave me. Life is cruel and unfair and I forgot that. I forgot how my life was never really happy, how I was always the one thing that stopped myself from being happy. So, next thing I knew, he was ripped away from me just when I thought I had found my happiness, my salvation.

...

No one had left a message. There wasn't even one, although the phone had been ringing for the last hour, with hardly any time between each incoming call. So, why now. Why would he ruin my quiet harsh self-depreciating world? No. How could only his voice break me down all over again? Leaving me bare to the world, completely unprotected and unaware to how he was manipulating and infiltrating every corner of my mind.

I was left to mere rubble. The ashes of my once hopeful soul scattered amongst their dreams for me, lying in the wasteland between disappointment and fear. Tainting the air around me with a certain disgracefulness. Like I was a shameful sinner, now ostracised to the world after tearing their hearts apart like my heart had once been.

I didn't care, though. Not after realising that every single one of them stood by and watched my demise. Watched him slowly take down my walls, only to destroy everything I built while with him.

So, as I turned around stretching out of my once crouched stance. I began to walk, only to fall down on my knees my chest aching and heart pounding with the pain of my past. But I couldn't be deterred so easily, I had to reach it. I had to try.

Slowly I crawled, like a young deer afraid of the world, yearning for comfort and love, towards my only way of communication.

The now painfully dulcet tones of the phone breaking the eerie silence. My eyes darted forward onto my favourite mahogany table, staring down the plastic device. Trying to find the determination to run to the phone, my heart stupidly hoping it would be him again.

I crawled on my hands and knees, through the piles of papers and shards of glass, barely feeling the fresh cuts, as I continued, hoping the ringing wouldn't stop. Because I would endure this pain over and over again if I could just finally talk to him, finally fix everything.

...

Half way to the phone, the ringing stopped and my heart broke because it didn't start again. So, I sat there my blood seeping into the carpet we bought together, silently weeping for the next half an hour, waiting for him to come back, to at least ring again.

It wasn't going to happen. though, there was no way he'd ever let me think he cared or loved me. Not after everything that had happened. Yet...I felt my throat close. I felt his presence and control of me again. My hands reached around my neck clawing at my skin, trying to free myself from his hold. My legs were frozen in place along with the rest of my body, I could only move my hands and everything above my neck. I was paralysed because of him. It was turning out exactly how he wanted, and some part of me deep down knew that.

I couldn't resist anymore. I didn't want to. Too much effort to live, too much effort to die but if it was his doing I'd gladly let him take my life. I'd endure this pain, like every other day with it hopefully being my last.

Convulsing, fading in and out of consciousness I was ready to leave. Ready to atone for my mistakes. But as I finally started to lose complete consciousness, he released his hold on me. Staring down into my now bloodshot eyes, with that smirk I fell for. Knowing that his face would be the last thing I saw.