The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog. While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience. Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections. Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.
This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.
Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author. Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.
If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts!
He reached over to the towel rack with his right hand, while his left turned the water off in the faucet. Though there was no light in the room, he could only just make out his features in the mirror before him. He studied the shape of his face quietly as he wrung his hands dry, thankful that he had the cover of darkness to hide his shame.
There was only a half of an hour between now and the time he was supposed to meet Lucy at the theater and he entertained the thought of calling to reschedule the date for another night. He felt weak, disconnected from his usual self and he wasn’t entirely sure that going out right now was the right thing for him to be doing.
As he returned the towel to its rightful place, he came to a decision. She would understand, she had to. After all, how many times did anyone ask her out anyways? It wasn’t like she had made any plans. More than likely, she would have spent the night doing the same thing she had been when he’d called to invite her.
He left the bathroom on trembling legs and returned to his room. The things he usually carried in his pockets; wallet, keys and cellphone, where sitting on the nightstand by his bed, and it was the latter of the items that he was looking for. Unplugging his phone, he opened the call log and scrolled down to her number. He was about to press the send button when his screen lit up and the ringtone for his sister began yelling;
“Bitch Alert! This is a Bitch Alert. You have an incoming call from a real Bitch!”
It startled him so much that he jumped, nearly dropping the phone, and the ringtone played its message two more times before he swiped the answer button.
“Hey twerp. I know you’re probably on your way to Lucy’s house, but I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you and to wish you good luck!”
He could hear her friends chattering in the background and from the other sounds on her end of the line, he also figured that they were in a car as well.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“I’m serious! Listen, I know that you’re probably nervous and you may have even thought about calling the date off, but don’t, okay? Chances are, she’s just as nervous as you are. Just show up and be yourself. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
It was weird hearing her say something nice to him, even weirder still that it was advice for the date he was about to go on, and he didn’t know how to answer her.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Good, I thought I’d lost you. Listen; I’m probably going to lose you soon, but I’m glad you answered.”
He smiled and for the moment, the events of the past hour were forgotten.
“Hey, I know you don’t like to do it, but I left in such a hurry I forgot. Could you take Tippy out back before you go? I’m not going to be back until late and I know she won’t make it until then.”
“I already did,” he answered much calmer than he expected. It wasn’t much of a stretch; she WAS out back, after all.
“Thanks bro! Have….ood….ime….”
The line went dead, disconnected by the distance between them and he pushed the sleep button on side before shoving it into his pocket. He smiled and shook his head, amazed at the difference in their relationship over the last few days as he glanced over to his clock..
Eighteen minutes before he was supposed to be at there.
He left the house running.