The Phone Call

One and Done.

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The final golden rays of sunlight shined through the narrow blinds covering my bedroom window. Warmth caressed my exposed legs. They basked in the light as I laid comfortably in bed. My gaze was soft. I watched the dust particles sparkle in the lucid flow of the air. A pair of arms were wrapped around my torso. They belonged to the boy I loved at the time, three years ago. I dedicated every thing to my love for him, but the love did not last. My eighteen year old self was completely oblivious to loves mortality. He and I laid in bed, composed in a simpler time. The soothing melodies playing from my cellphone, added to the harmonious atmosphere of my bedroom. The moment was interrupted by an obnoxious buzzing noise echoing from the glass table my cellphone rested upon. With a prolonged and slightly annoyed sigh, I got up from my comfortable position on the bed. The boy was left lying alone, arms empty.

Bright, pixilated letters spelt out the name of my dance instructor, Miss Marie. She was the owner of a dance studio I spent most of my time training in. Miss Marie was an assertive, strong, and witty elderly woman who held an impressive reputation in the local dance community. To me, she was just a naggy grandma, who cared for me sometimes too much. Despite our close relationship, Miss Marie has never called me privately.

"Hello?" Our conversation began with tedious greetings, then moved into something more sentimental. Miss Marie's voice gradually became more unstable. She began to praise me. "Rebecca, out of all the dancers I have taught in my life, I have always enjoyed watching you most." Miss Marie said, sincerely. I let the words ineffectively go in one ear and out of the other. The boy watched me pace my room, impatiently. Occasionally, I would ignore Miss Marie and make silly hand gestures to him. Her endless words of admiration, full of love, were hindered by fuzzy sobbing noises. Miss Marie cried whilst expressing her love to me and I foolishly let it pass by me. My thanks and farewell to her was meaningless. My phone was placed back on the glass table and I lied back on the bed. I did not realize that would be the last time I ever hear her voice.

Within a month of the phone call, Miss Marie got really sick and passed away. All of the hearts she touched throughout her life were left broken. It was the first time I had ever been struck with pain like that. After some time passed, a horrifying possibility occurred to me and still occasionally haunts me today... She knew she was dying. That phone call was her goodbye to me. If only I could go back and change that brief moment in time. I would tell Miss Marie how much I absolutely love her and how special she is to me. I miss her dearly.

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