Phone Call

It was nothing. Come on. People do it every single day, without thinking. It's as simple as breathing. It's just opening your mouth, allowing your vocal cords to articulate your thoughts. You pick up the phone. You put it down. Deep breath. This is silly.

She laughs, turning to look at her reflection in the mirror just to show herself how silly it was. She picks up the phone.


Later...

It is late into the night. The lights are off, she is under the covers and her eyes are closed. But she is more awake and aware of her surroundings than she has ever been on most days and mornings. Ever single creak, rattle and groan reveberates through her body, as if they were coming from within her. It wasn't going to happen. She should just put it out of her mind. Her body slowly starts to shut down. And then of course, the phone rings.

It was all wrong. She had not planned it this way. She wasn't prepared; her mind wasn't sharp and ready to assume witty repartee. She had lost the upper hand. Now, the caller had it.

When she heard the voice on the other end, it took over her body. It sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't control them. She tried to keep her voice steady, her laughter off-handed, that was all she could manage. She concentrated on clutching her bedsheets, her pillow, anything in the futile attempt to try and stop her body from shaking. It was such a curious effect, and it scared her the caller had so much power over her. All throughout the call, she told herself, it's over, it's over. Don't worry.


He'll never do this to you again. The nerve. Returning her call.

Enough. Enough now.