The Race For Sanity
I stared down at my phone in fear. This small device was to be the key of humiliation and end of my life as all knew it… I was trapped, I had to call Zac or else Chelsea would hunt me down when she came to town. I hadn’t moved, so she would easily find me and forcefully make me call the boy anyway. All resistance was worthless and it wasn’t even worth an attempt. I continued to stare at my phone for a while, in hope that maybe I would wake up from some miraculous dream; yea. That was it, I had just dreamed that Chelsea had yelled at me, requesting – no – demanding that I call Zac and vow love for him. It was in this flurry of wishing for my life to be a fantasy that a reality washed over me, “I don’t have his number!” I jumped off of the bed and did my own personal happy dance… I stopped when my phone rang once again. I picked it up – scared of the results – only to want to burst out crying.
Oh! And here’s his number!
Zac’s digits were displayed below in Jack’s text to me. I wrote back in frenzy of button-pressing:
I hate you, you fat b*****d.
Right after sending it, I threw my phone at the wall. A bit melodramatic, since I could hear it crack as it made contact with the drywall, but it was all I could think to do as an alternative to tearing my hair out. Why did the world hate me? Why was I forcibly being made call a person I hadn’t spoken to in years? Not only call them, but basically say in the cheesiest of ways: “I love you! And it took me until now to realize it!”
Talk ‘bout soap-opera…
Throwing myself back down to my bed, I shoved my face into the pillow and immediately screamed. Screamed so loud and so long that when I stopped, my throat was raw and aching. I didn’t know what else to do! It was rather that, or resort to punching the wall to let out all of the suppressed rage I had just now discovered that it had been inside of me since my phone had first rang that morning. I needed to get my damned anger out somehow, why not scream profanities into my pillow? It wouldn’t care what I called it, nor if I sat viewing it as a certain blond and red head companion. It took me a while to calm down, as soon as I sat up, my mother peaked her head into the room. Her expression was worry and confusion rolled into one. “Honey? Is something wrong? What’s with the screaming?”
“Mom, if you have this sudden urge to kill someone, do you go through with it? Or see if the feeling is just a phase?” Her expression distorted into shock at that moment, I guess she must have taken me rather seriously. Walking into the room finally, she murmured slowly, “… Sweetheart, would you like to talk? You look… Angry.”
“more like ballistic,” I snapped back rather irritably. My hands were balled to fists; I glanced back to my phone. “Huh, I think I’m going to need a new phone.” The poor gadget was basically broken in half. The screen was cracked down the middle, and the two pieces that were supposed to go together were severed from one another. One lying face down, the other had bounced about a foot and a half from the past partner. Mom walked over and picked the pieces up. She stared at the mini-machine-now-in-two before looking up to her daughter with wide eyes. Clouded in what I wasn’t sure to consider between worry and anger. “Kiera, what did you do to the phone?”
“I threw it against the wall.” The words just came pouring out of my mouth. What else could I say to explain how my phone died? Did it commit mobile-suicide?
“Why did you throw your phone?”
“Because it was taunting me.” I glanced up at my mother right afterward for her response. I could care less at the moment whether she was mad with me or not. If she grounded me from the phone, I wouldn’t have to call Zac. Nor would I have any reason to speak with Chel and Jack. “It had it coming to it.”
“You do know that you’re going to have to pay to replace this phone. Right?”
“What if I don’t want a new phone?”
And then, in a suddenly new environment of discussion, all went silent…
“You… Don’t want a phone?” My mother said quietly, her eyes wide in – what I guessed to be – shock. She stared down at me as if I had just grown a second head, her mouth was opened slightly, and I could tell she was obviously lost for words. Walking over to me, she pressed a hand hard against my forehead, “Kiera, are you alright? You don’t have a fever…” I stared up at her through a blank stare, kind of annoyed with her reaction. Was it really that hard to take when your daughter said she didn’t want a phone…?
… Alright, I understand a little. “I’m fine!” I insisted, pushing her hand away. Standing from my spot on my bed, I tried to think of a way to explain my reasoning, but my thoughts were for naught. There was no real way of explaining without making a dire fool out of myself. “I’m just… Aggravated, is all.”
“With what?” My mother asked automatically, staring me down with her big green eyes locked on my face. I turned away, trying to avoid it, but my mother had a way of making you know she was staring at you. It was a mother’s gift I suppose, to have everyone know you were there. Biting down on my tongue, I made my way for the door, not wanting to answer. But of course, none can escape the wrath that is my mother. She was covering my escape route seconds before I could even reach for the knob. I glanced up, falling under the terror or her gaze. Did she even realize just how creepy it was to be stared down upon? All the same, I shrank under her penetration, trying hard to avoid her eyes. It was almost hypnotic.
“Kiera, honey, I want you to tell me straight forward. Right now, why did you throw your phone?”
I was now staring down at my feet, having no way of escape, I whispered quietly, “Chel…”
“What was that?”
“Chel,” I repeated in annoyance. There weren’t twenty-gazillion people in this world named Chel, were there!?
“Chel?” My mother said, tilting her head to the side before she brightened, “Oh! Chelsea! Moved to France, yes?”
I nodded against my will, deciding to cooperate with the older woman in front of me. Said woman moved out of the way to sit down on my bed again. “Chelsea. You two are talking again?”
“Jack gave her my number…” I muttered lamely, thinking that if I moved slowly, I could get to the door and perhaps escape from the house. Change my name, and get a job as a face painter for the rest of eternity.
Hmph, wouldn’t that be something…
“Not so fast, missy.” My mother intercepted, staring up at me again with her big emerald green eyes, “What happened?”
“She wanted me to do something.”
“What did she want you to do?”
I froze, DAMN IT. She had me trapped… Okay Key, think of lies fast! Fast, I say! Um… Put a bag over my head? Sneak across the border? Steal a bag of gummi-bears? All stupid ideas… I fessed right there. Everything that had been out on mind was now pouring out of my mouth in a stream of embarrassment. Every time I said the name “Zac” I would quiet my voice to an almost incoherent tone, though my mother knew who I was talking about right there.
When I finished, she sat in thought, trying to think of how to react. After a while, she accepted my explanation and simply walked out of the room…
… Well at least I wish that is what she’d done.
“So…” My mother whispered, eyes bright and a catty grin playing on her lips, “You like Zac. Is that where this is going?”
I was blushing now, I turned away to stare at the wall, my hands were holding one another behind my back, wanting so much to come up and strangle me. Though I didn’t have the will power to kill myself just yet out of humiliation. “I guess you could say that…” I finally agreed, gulping down a want to start screaming profanities in hope that my mother would freak out, run out of the room, and then call a shrink to send me to the happy hotel. I would have preferred to be there more than here, by a LONG shot. “And Jack is going to call Zac to make sure that I did it.”
“Well then, do it.” My mom said.
I think I saw white right then. I turned in a flabbergasted gaze, jaw dropped opened and hands coming out in front of me, “What!? WHY!?”
“Just tell him you were joking afterward, tell him that it was Chel who made you do it. He’ll understand.”
“No, mother. He won’t!” I started basically pacing in a circle as I spoke; even my own mom was siding with Chel now! “He won’t believe me, because he hates me! And will do anything to humiliate me!”
“He doesn’t hate you…” My mom whispered from the side, watching me walk around in my little track.
“Yes, he does!” I insisted, “If he didn’t hate me, he wouldn’t have lost contact with me!”
“Well think, Key.” My mother began softly, “He lost his mother. He has to live in a house all alone with a new mother and his father He just has a lot on his mind is all…”
He has Alyssa to comfort him… I thought coldly. Deception met my thoughts, forcing me to stop walking into a circle. Perhaps my mother had a point in a way. Maybe he was just lonely, and didn’t know how to interact anymore…
My mom left a few minutes into the situation, because I went basically mute in thought. Maybe my mother was right, the woman who couldn’t cook something that wouldn’t eat you in return; who couldn’t find her car keys -- searched the apartment thoroughly -- Realizing eons later that they were in her hand. As much as it pained me to say it, my mother was right. I walked out of my room and picked up the home phone and phone book. I sat down on the living room couch and started my search for Zac’s home phone.
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