Type 2

Laura's hand rested lightly on the kitchen knife, she seemed to stare through the wall as she listened intently. The half cut up tomato oozed it's contents in waiting as her grip on it tightened. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, going over the words again in her mind. They're fixing the sink. Just fixing the sink.

But the sounds being emitted from the bathroom were anything but the sounds of two men stopping a busted pipe. She cringed as the moans became louder. It was just her imagination. Only her imagination.

Her thumb began to tap lightly on the counter.

"I can't do this!" she screamed at the wall and the moans only became louder.

Laura turned away from the wall and walked across the kitchen, picking up the phone and dropping the crushed tomato in the trash can. She slowly pressed the numbers as her bottom lip quivered. They obviously didn't care if she heard now, the moans and grunts were so loud that it seemed like they were in the room with her.

6
Hesitate
5
Hesitate

There was a loud thud, making her jump. She glanced over her shoulder as she dialed the rest of the numbers. Pressing the phone against her ear, she listened to the rings. After the second ring, the other person picked up. There was a shuffling sound from the other end, followed by a disheveled person's voice.

"H-hello..?" more shuffling.

"They're fucking again. In my Goddamn bathroom!" Laura began her pacing, up and down the kitchen.

"Laura? What time is it?" a quick cough.

"It's three in the afternoon. Did you hear me? They're in my bathroom! What do I do?!" she began chewing on her nails, her eyes scanning the room.

"Uhh...Laura, I'm not even fully awake yet..." there was the sound of someone talking in the background, "What? Oh...yeah...coffee sounds great....hey, Laura, you still there?"

"Who are you talk-- you know what, nevermind. Just tell me what to do."

"Fuck. Confront them?"

"They have to know I hear them, right?" Laura paused. "I mean, they're being really loud. I can clearly hear them, Cless."

"Right..." a yawn. "Look, I worked last night. I'm really tired. If they're being loud, it's because they don't care if you hear them. I say confront them."

"Yeah...yeah...thanks," and before Cless could respond, Laura hung up.

Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the kitchen and around the corner. She stared at the door, shaking, nervous, unsure of this decision. You either do this now or you accept what's going on.

She placed her hand on the door knob, took one deep breath, twisted, and shoved the door open. The knob smacked against the wall with a bam. There they were, entangled in some sort of passionate dance she didn't want to understand.

The words seemed to fall from her lips before she could stop it, "What the fuck is this shit?"

"Laura?" Michael shoved Greg off of him as he reached for his pants.

"You're disgusting..." she said shaking her head. "Oh my God, I hate you."

"Laura, wait," he said, fastening his belt. "You don't understand."

"Understand what?!" she shoved her palm into his chest as he came closer. "That you're having sex with my brother, you sick fuck?!"

"I love him," Greg said as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

"What the fuck...?" Laura backed away from them and back towards the kitchen.

"No, Laura," Michael said. "I love you. I want to be with you!"

Laura shoved him, making him stagger, "You thought you could achieve that by fucking my family?!"

"No. No, I...I just lost myself. This isn't me," he pleaded.

"Then who is it, Michael? Because I'm looking right at you. I can't believe you would do this. To me. To us!"

"I..."

"You're what? Sorry?" she folded her arms as he nodded. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Laura..." Michael extended his arms, trying to pull her into an embrace.

She shoved him again, "No! Fuck you, Michael! Fuck you! Both of you, get the fuck out."

Michael, defeated, turned and walked towards the door. "I wont stop loving you, I'm gonna fight for this relationship."

"Good fucking luck," she screamed out as the door closed behind him.

"Laura," Greg said, putting his pants back on. "What about the baby?"

"What baby?" Laura said quietly.

Greg moved closer to her, "Don't do that. It's a life, Laura."

She sighed, "He ruined that. And you did too. Get out."

"I'm sorry it happened this way," he said as he hugged her, grabbed his keys, and walked out.

Laura blinked and she was back in the kitchen, holding the knife and staring at the wall.

Next time, she thought. I'll confront them next time. She raised the knife slowly and cut into the tomato, the moans and grunts echoing through the house.

Disease and Fear

Disease

I have this thing that’s very contagious. It’s called stupidity.

As I speak, the words that flow between these subtle lips are caked in it. Nothing makes sense. Nothing fits together. Nothing works. Just words, bland and simple and dipped in monotone, that are pointless.

My arguments hold no weight because of this disease that plagues me. This thing that consumes my mouth.

I fight to keep my voice raised above everyone else’s, dare I lower it they might notice. I can’t let them notice. I can’t let them hear the truth. I can’t show them how stupid I really truly am.



Fear

I can feel the temperature rise as my face floods with the light red of anger. ‘Bite your tongue,’ sings my inner being. ‘Be calm. Join me in serenity.’

I take two deep breaths and look over as her phone vibrates with another text. Another little screen filled hatred and biting words. The screen aimed for the heart, and strike it it did. Every time there was a text like this that was received, it aimed for the heart and it struck.

My heart swelled in my chest and my hands shook with the urge to wrap around the phone, crushing it. Tonight was NOT the night. I took a deep breath as my inner being sang again, ‘Think of blue skies beyond this. This is one instance in your life, and in the blink of an eye this experience will be over.’

Another vibration. Another jabbing text. Every word dipped in the lovely concoction of jealousy, envy, and confusion. I bite my lip. I ball up my fist. I raise it quickly. And I bring it down with a sharp snap as it slams against my thigh.

I repeat this process several more times before I stop and breathe deeply.

‘Don’t harm yourself,’ the being chirps, ‘Certainly this other isn’t worth it.’

But the texts continue. My anger rises.

And in the blink of an eye, there he is. Standing still. Smiling at me.

“Welcome, friend,” he coos. “Welcome to fear.”

The room was quiet. The smell of bleach, disinfectants, and the plain stale stench of hospital had settled in the small waiting room. I stared at my feet, clicking my heels together then clicking my toes together. Back and forth and forth and back. Again and again.

Then I started counting tiles.

1

"Why are you here?" says a woman in the corner to another woman sitting close to her.

2

"My son is sick," she responds.

3

"Mine too," she whispers.

4

"Mr. Powell?" says a nurse. A man stands and walks towards her.

5

"Maybe we should talk in a more private setting?" the nurse whispered.

6

"Whispering isn't sympathy," says Fredrick.

7

"Are you paying attention to me?"

8

He grabs my arm and I snap back, my eyes meeting his. "What?" I say. Tile number 5 is in the left corner. If I remember that, I can continue from 5.

"Are you paying attention to me?" Fredrick says.

"I was thinking..." I mutter.

"What about?" he says confused. His eyebrows furrow a little in the middle.

"Nothing important," I say twisting around in my seat. I try to see all the silent faces in the room. They might as well been born without mouthes.

Fredrick scrapes his teeth against the nail on his thumb, he's never been a patient one. His right leg bounces nervously as we wait, "I wonder what's taking so long."

I turn back around, fixing my eyes on tile number 5, "They're probably really busy tonight. Look at all the people here."

6

"Yeah..." he sighs. "Probably. Hopefully."

7

"You ever look at the sky and wonder?"

8 "Wonder what?" I say, my eyes slowly moving to tile number 9.

"If clouds move because of the wind or because of the earths rotation," Fredrick looked up at the ceiling.

10 "I don't think about that shit," I say quickly.

He looked at me, "Why not? That's good shit. Nice fodder for the brain."

11 "I just don't see the point in thinking about stuff like that."

"You should do it more often. It's interesting."

12 "Why don't you just google it?" 13 "Seriously."

He took a butterscotch candy out of his pocket and began to slowly unwrap it, "That would ruin the fun. You ever notice how the internet ruins the fascination of life? The "what if's" and the "how come's"? What fun is life without those questions? If you can get the answers with the click of a button?"

14

15

16 "What?"

"Are you paying attention to me?" he said sharply. The candy clicking against his teeth.

17

18

19 "Yeah...yeah...I'm paying attention."

"You never ask yourself that?" Fredrick said.

20

21

22 "No. Not really. I don't think about bullshit."

"You just count tiles?"

My head snapped up.

"Mr. Freddy Contas?"

I looked at Fredrick who wasn't moving.

"Mr. Freddy Contas?!" the nurse screamed again.

"Fredrick!" I shouted.

He jerked and looked at me, "What the fuck?"

"They're calling you," I say quietly.

He smiled at me and nodded, "No, they're calling you."

My eyes opened as the nurse shook me, "Mr. Contas?"

"Yes...that's me," I say sleepily.

"Sir, we need to speak to you," she stood upright and waited for me to wake up fully.

"What about?" I said. "Is Fredrick alright?"

"Mr. Contas, maybe we should talk in another room?"

"Tell me," I said quietly. Now I was whispering. "Is he alright?"

"I'm sorry to tell you that he didn't make it, Mr. Contas," she took a deep breath. "He started bleeding and we couldn't stop it. I'm terribly sorry."

I sat there. Frozen. All the blood drained from my face as I tried to think.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"You can..." I choked on the air trying to enter my mouth. I coughed. Short. Fast.

"Yes?" she said quietly.

"You can go," I said as the tears began to sting my eyes.

Tears were in her eyes as well, but she blinked a few times and stood up straight. An immediate fix all and she was again composed. "Your brother," she said firmly. "He was a nice man."

"Thank you," I said as she turned and walked away. "He hated being called Freddy."

Cut.

Print.

23

24...

Day 15

A little something dedicated to M&M. Such a sweetie pie.

No Title

Micah's eyes opened and he was not disappointed by what he saw. The young blonde lying beside him was fast asleep, her body askew on the bed. All he could do was smile.

Out of all of his conquests, Naomi certainly had to be the most attractive. Not to mention she had no problem dragging him back to her place after he had "worked his charms." Although, none of her friends had fallen for his cheesy lines and continued to tell her what a bad idea bringing him home was.

He was very glad she ignored them.

He wanted to roll over and do his normal routine after nights such as these. Silently get out of bed, get dressed, and out the door without disturbing her at all. But something about her kept him in place for awhile. Longer than he would have liked and as he thought about it, watching her sleep, he realized that a piece of him wanted her to wake up before he left.

She stirred, making his heart plummet. A soft moan escaped her lips before she went quiet again. He needed to just go. Head back to his hotel room and get ready for his flight back to Detroit and be with his girlfriend.

Naomi moved again, this time running her leg up his slowly. Her eyes opened slowly as she smiled at him. "Well, good morning~" she sang.

"Morning," he said dryly. He cursed himself, he should have left.

In one easy movement she straddled him, "And how are you feeling?"

"I feel...I feel grreat," his slight stutter dragging out the r.

"Really?" her eyebrow raised slightly. "Are you Tony the Tiger now?" Micah chuckled, this was why he stayed. Her playful nature was so different from his girlfriend's and interested him greatly. She leaned down, kissing his cheek, her mouth close to his ear, "Hey."

A shock seemed to run up his spine, "Yeah?"

"I'm a tiger, baby~" she sat up and winked at him.

"Oh yeah?" Micah smiled.

"Yeah," she pawed at his face, "Rawr~"

Day 14

Sam rounded the corner, a funny feeling in his gut. Something wasn't quite right tonight. In an instant, Sam's head was making contact with the wall. Pain shot up his back as his eyes met hers.

"Have you been lying to me this whole time?" she said through gritted teeth. She was about to cry.

"Lying to you? No," he said shocked. He had no idea what she was talking about.

"Is she even real?" the tears broke free and streamed down her face.

"Of course she is!" he said as her grip loosened. "What is this about?"

"Have you been lying to me this whole time?!" she screamed.

Sam took a deep breath as she finally let go of him, "No, I haven't been lying to you. Take a deep breath. Calm down."

"No!" she shoved him hard in the chest, Sam's head slamming against the wall again, "Explain!"

"Sit down," he said calmly.

"You sit," she said coldly. And he did, "Explain. Is she the original or not?"

"It's a confusing mess, but, right now, it looks like she isn't," he shook his leg trying to forget the craving for the cigarettes in his pocket.

"Whose body is it?" her hands began to shake with frustration.

"It's mine," he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

"Yours," her body seemed to carry a heavy weight now. "All this time...I've been in love with a lie? A fragment?"

Sam looked at her, wanting to stand. This certainly wasn't something he could fix easily right now, and she deserved the truth! What was he to do? Continue lying...?

Day 13

I am tempted.

Tempted
To join you.
My idiocy leading us here.

No kiss,
No hug,
No touch of your nimble fingers.

No way of knowing
You wouldn't be there when I woke.

My mind,
A muddled mess.

My body,
An empty shell.

My heart,
A faltering, decrepit, useless organ.

My mouth refuses to make words
Without you.
I can't get sleep
Without you.
I can't process thoughts
Without you.
I can't love
Without you.

I am lost and lonely
Without you.
A small child
In a desolate town.

And all I can think,
Is a single selfish thought.

I still need you.

Day 11

The bedroom door waved silently, the gusts of wind from the balcony doors pushing and pulling them to their own rhythm. Sam sat silently in a chair backwards, a cigarette between his lips and as he pushed the chair onto it's back legs. Alicia sat on the bed, silent. This was going to be a talk out of necessity. A life needed to be saved.

Holding the cigarette between his index and middle fingers, he scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. He needed to choose his words carefully. Very carefully.

"I'm assuming what I'm about to hear will not be very good for me," Alicia almost whispered.

Sam's eyes met hers, "Why are you assuming that?"

Alicia shook her head, sighing silently, "It's a natural assumption. I've done nothing but hurt her."

Sam took a drag on his cigarette, nodding, "Good enough."

A silence fell between the two and seemed to drag on longer than the three minutes it actually took. "Look," Alicia said, "If it's related to me somehow, I'm alright with going away if it'll fix it."

"No. She needs you right now, but if you want to go we wont stop you," Sam took another drag on the cigarette. It was almost time for him to light another one.

"I don't want to go," tears began to gather in her eyes.

"If you stay, she wont be around for awhile," he slid the pack out of his pocket, smacking it two times on his left palm before pulling another cigarette out.

Alicia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "I feel my presence is making her worse."

"In all honesty, this was bound to happen. We were just waiting," Sam watched the trail of smoke rise slowly.

"Why?" Alicia watched him.

"Because she wants to die," he said matter-of-factly before sticking the cigarette between his lips again.

"Nothing can stop that. Not you. Not me," Alicia said. "The fact that you're there is making her worse. She feels like she's losing control."

Sam sat up and narrowed his eyes at Alicia, "So we're supposed to let her kill herself?"

"No, of course not," Alicia almost screamed the words.

"She needs time. To face herself, to find herself, to get past her fears," he stood walking to the balcony doors and looking out, taking another drag on the cigarette.

She watched silently, "Time she'll get."

"Oh?" he turned to her, "When?"

"When she leaves. Listen," she watched him as he turned back to the balcony doors, "If what she needs is time, she needs to cut out distractions."

He nodded, tossing the cigarette out of the doors, "We have cut out distractions. All of them, except you."

"Why?"

"Because with you comes an overwhelming feeling of happiness and love. And she needs that," he turned and walked back to the seat. "You're the only person she can get it from."

"Why?" Alicia's brows furrowed as she tried to understand.

"She trusts you," Sam took the pack out of his pocket again, going through the same routine before placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it.

"I want to talk to her, but I'll do it when she's ready," there was a cry of pain in her voice.

Sam took a long drag on the cigarette, blowing the smoke out his nose, "She's ready."

"Are you sure? She might need more time," Alicia studied his face.

"You don't want to speak to her?" he tapped his shoe on the floor.

"I want her to be ready. Positively ready," she said quietly.

He took another drag on the cigarette, "I'm telling you, she's ready."

Alicia took a deep breath as the room got very quiet. Sam stopped moving, the cigarette limp in his mouth. His eyes closed, and the shoulders slumped.

Seconds felt like an eternity before the eyes slowly opened and fixed on Alicia. Tears streamed down the face before she got up and ran to hug Alicia, "I love you."