Blog #7 - Telephone Line

I woke up to an unfamiliar ring resonating through the house. It was early, the moon still hung low threw the window and the grass still glimmering. I dragged my feet across the floor to find the source. There, blaring and buzzing on my kitchen table lay the home phone that I never touched, let alone get calls on.
I hesitantly lifted the phone to my ear, dust drifted to my feet.
"Hello," mumbled a voice.
"Hi..."
"Marshal?" it asked.
I paused, "And who might this be?"
"It's... um... Dad." There was a long silence, I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it. Who the hell did he think he was. Not one call. In over five years, he never once picked up the phone to check on his kid. I sat by that phone, waiting for days when Mom died, hoping, praying he would call. The only one left who was family, and he was even less real then Mom. He might as well have died to me that night. I couldn't find words. Actually, he didn't deserve it. "Listen, bud, I know this is far too late, but... The guys, my managers, they're planning the stops on our next tour and wanted to know if I'd be willing to swing by the old stomping grounds, eh?" He chortled. Gathering himself together from his amusement, he turned serious, "I uhh wanted you to know before the news breaks." He took a deep breath, "Call me if you want to meet up. See ya soon." The dull buzz shook through my head as he hung the phone up. My anger built and snapped. The phone flew from my hand to the door and shattered to pieces. I stormed out to the balcony, bristling with fury. I threw open the door and was met with a wall of light. The blinding sun sent me reeling backward. My vision stayed blurred and spotted for a moment. After I regathered my courage I peered through the blinds and hazarded another venture outside. This time when I stood there on my balcony, alone and exposed, the sun had hidden in the clouds. A single snowflake drifted through the sky and rested on the railing.

Blog #6 - American Pie

I woke up to the blaring of a horn. When I leapt off the hood, the source of the sound was no where to be found. I had dozed off in my stargazing. A thick fog must have rolled in over the night. Curious as to who had been my rude awakener, I felt my way through the mist, barely able to see my own feet. As I came to the fog seemed to tighten around my chest, sirens blared in the distance, my head spun. The whole scene was all too familiar.

I stumbled as I made my way through the obscure clouds. I lost my footing and a hand shot out of the dark to catch me. Lamar had come by to check in on me about the incident the other day with Hanky. When I hadn't responded to my calls, he was worried. He knew I'd always been a night owl, so he stopped by the apartment to see if anything was wrong. When I didn't answer the door, he knew where to find me. Sitting there with him, the night reminded me all to much of one I'd tried very hard to forget. 

I had just come home from school. I walked down Mains towards home, towards Maitland East. As I made my way through the suffocating fog, I saw flashing lights in the distance. I assumed there had been a false alarm with the sprinklers, or a fire drill, but as I drew nearer, the sirens grew around me until they were deafening. It was then I knew something had gone wrong. My walk turned to a sprint, no longer afraid of the dangers within the fog, but rather those waiting beyond the red and blue lights.

I ran up the stairs to my hall, past the yellow tape and into the threshold. To my horror, the stretcher in the den was covered. My body stopped. I open my mouth to scream, but there was nothing there. A hand caught me as I dropped to my knees, Lamar.

That night was six years ago to the day. It happened to be the same day as the murder of Mr. Maitland's brother, so the town, occupied in their paranoia, forgot all about Mama's death. Everyone, but Lamar. He sat with me for hours, cried with me. In those moments, he helped me through the darkness.