Authors: Sarah Ann Walker
Christ! This is a long silence. Fine!
"It doesn't bother me. Just forget it, alright?"
"I don't think so. You're sounding a tad jealous, Sweetheart. If you
are
jealous, I'm delighted. Your jealousy means, you feel
something...
Maybe even towards me
?
" Nope. No, I don't. LIAR! I
totally
feel something.
"Look. I've had a very long, intense day that just keeps getting worse. I thank you for h-helping me, but I really want to lie down now, okay? I'm very sorry to have called you. I'm quite embarrassed, actually."
"I don't give a fuck about your apologies, your thank you, or your embarrassment... though very polite as usual. I want you to tell me what happened this evening. Now."
Shit.
What do I say? The truth? Ah,
no
. The truth will sound pathetic.
I’ll
sound pathetic. What do I do? Do I protect my privacy? Do I protect Marcus? No. Screw Marcus!
"Well, I though you screwed Kayla because I told you, essentially, that she was
easy
which bothered me at the time, now however, I’ve found out it shouldn't have bothered me at all. So I didn't want to talk to you anymore, especially about my
pleasure
when you most certainly experienced pleasure with Kayla."
"I didn't experience Kayla's pleasure or her anything else, for that matter."
"But I didn't
KNOW
that! I thought you were a total pig for talking to me the way you did while screwing Kayla at the same time as you
flirted
with me.”
“Flirted?”
“Yes,
flirted
, or whatever the hell it is you’re doing with me. Whatever! Anyway, I felt bad for portraying my
friend
as easy, which incidentally, I just found out Kayla really,
REALLY
is… kind of a moral-less, home-wrecking WHORE, actually..." Big inhale.
"Go on, Sweetheart. Let it all out. This is the most you've ever spoken."
"I think I will, thank you
sir
..." I sneer. "Anyway, I decided you were a jerk and I would never speak to you again. So, I went for a walk, felt all creepy, like someone was watching me, or like something was wrong... I don't know what..."
"I
was
watching you. I wanted to make sure you were okay after you abruptly told me to leave you alone." Oh. Ha! I'm NOT crazy!
"
What?!"
"Later. Continue please."
Later?
"Anyway, I went back home... which
apparently
you know already, had a shower, tidied my sunroom, must have dozed off and woke to my husband stumbling through the door."
Wow. I'm so calm. No panic-attack in sight. Maybe anger is the key. Maybe I should get angry more often.
"Go on, Sweetheart..." Yeah. Ok. I will!
"So, my calm, nice, stable, boring, tax accountant husband is not only drunk, which is a first, but he drove home drunk too, which is a shock. Then Marcus attempted to have sex with me but when I said no and had to fight him off, he proceeded to tell me
‘I'm the problem’
. The
many
women he sleeps with enjoy his company, and no one complains about his sexual habits but me." Of course I'm the problem. "Even
KAYLA
enjoyed Marcus' company, when they had sex. When? I don't know. But apparently, Kayla is only my
friend
Out. Of. Guilt. OH!
And
she thinks I'm pathetic. So, as you can see, once again,
I'm the problem
. I'm
always
the problem. It's always
my
fault… even my parents agree with Marcus’ assessment, who incidentally, he called this week..." Why is this
HAPPENING
? What did I do wrong?
"And...?" Z asks.
"And? And,
WHAT?!
Marcus said my parents told him ‘I'm a problem’, I go through these fits of 'acting up' and that I should be ignored. I'm always ignored. Why would that be any different THIS week?! FUCK!" Gasp. Ooops. I said the f-word out loud.
"It’s okay, love... I've heard the f-word before, even said it once or twice. Continue please."
"That’s it,
OKAY?!
My husband only has sex with me, maybe, once a month, and it's awful and usually painful, but thank god it only lasts about 5 minutes... But everyone else
enjoys
it; so again, the problem is mine, not his. My husband cheats on me. My
friend
Kayla fucked my husband, and doesn't really like me, but rather pities me. My parents are cold, unfeeling, assholes who tell people I'm a terrible, attention-seeking problem, who should be ignored. And, as usual, EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT. It’s ALWAYS
my
fault..." Exhale.
"Well... You certainly have had a rather shitty week."
WHAT?!
Pause.
Laughter bursts from my chest. I heave with rolls of laughter. I try to catch my breath but I'm laughing too hard. A shitty week?
A. Shitty
.
Week?
Try a shitty
LIFE!
Dammit, I can't stop. I feel lightheaded and giddy. This is good. I don't cry, ever... So laughter is good.
"Easy, Sweetheart. I want you to slow down. You're getting a little hysterical, and I want you to calm down again. I'm here. Listen to my voice, and breathe slowly."
"I'm f-fine, honestly. Laughing is better than..."
"Laughter is good when something is funny. This is
not
funny. Today,
for you
, is
NOT
funny. I want you to stop now."
This feels good though. Still giggling, I slow it down a little, as Z continues to murmur soothing words in my ear.
==========
Marcus is back, pounding on my bedroom door, yelling to let him in.
"FUCK
OFF,
Marcus!! Leave me alone!! Leave. Me. ALONE!!” Ooops. Another swear.
Listening, I try to hear his actual words... "Doctor... My parents... Talking to myself... Crazy... Getting help... Ambulance..." What the
HELL?
Charging for the door with my phone still in hand, I rip it open and scream in his face. "What did you say?! What did you just say Marcus?!"
Watching him shaking, Marcus stumbles backward, like I'm going to hit him or something. I might hit him. Actually, I kinda
want
to hit him.
Taking another deep breath, I ask calmly, ”What did you do, Marcus?"
"Ah... I called your parents, and they said I should call an ambulance, to get you some help at the hospital. Um, they’re very concerned about you and so am I, Honey. You're not acting normal."
"What? Did you call the ambulance yet?" Be calm. Breathe.
"Ah, they suggested I tell you first, to see if you would calm down." A
threat?
I see.
"Well, I'm glad you told me first. As you can see, I'm fine right now. I was not talking to myself, but was on the phone- See..." and holding the phone up to his face, he flinches back again, quickly. "I'm fine, but I would ask that you leave me alone RIGHT NOW. I've had a terrible night, what with my cheating, drunk-ass husband destroying my life, and all. So please leave. And if you call a doctor, or the hospital, or my parents again, I will hurt you Marcus. I SWEAR TO GOD, I will knock you on your ass before I leave this house forever."
"Honey... I..." Ha! Marcus looks like
he's
going to have a panic-attack, which is
too funny.
"Do not speak Marcus. If you need to talk to someone, go call Kayla. I'm sure she is more than willing to deal with you. Leave me alone. Now!"
"Ah... I still think we should call someone about your behavior..."
"My behavior? Yes, my
behavior
is a little troubling at the moment, isn't it? Well, don't worry- Not that you ever worry about me, but I'll be fine. Marcus, I
strongly
suggest however that you get out of my face right now. I'm not kidding you. I'm going to hurt you if I have to look at you a moment longer."
And slamming the door, I turn and run for my bathroom. I have to grab stuff. Grab enough stuff. Grab lots of stuff. Damn, my head is spinning, but this is kind of exhilarating, too.
Where’s my luggage? In my walk-in closet. Yanking out my luggage,
thank god.
Running back into my bathroom, all my toiletries are thrown in a travel bag. Running, I head for the walk-in closet again for clothes. What kind of clothes? Anything. Which shoes? Many. All my black shoes are thrown in the suitcase.
I have to change. Grabbing black slacks, and a light cami/cardigan combo, in black,
of course
, I'm clothed properly. Which shoes? I need heels. I
NEED
to feel better, more secure in my heels. Got them. These are sexy, high, yet amazingly comfortable. I need comfort right now.
I'm frantic to be quick. What will Marcus do?
Shit.
Have my parents already called an ambulance? Fuck! I HATE that threat.
SINCE WHEN?
When have I heard that threat before? Huh, good question.
Looking around, everything I need from my room is packed. Dammit, the sunroom. One more stop needed for my laptop, keys and phone.
Shit.
THE PHONE!
"Are you still there?" I panic.
"Yes. I'm here. What are you doing?"
Running for my life.
"I'm leaving for... I don't know how long. I'll call you later, okay?"
"
Sweetheart
... I'm very serious. I expect a phone call soon. Do you understand me?"
"Yes. Okay. I'll call you back soon. I just have to hurry and get out of here. I think he's trying to get me taken away. I... I think my parents are going to take me away. I'll call when I'm out of here." I nearly lose it.
"Promise me. Promise right now, Sweetheart. Promise that you will call me very soon."
"I promise I’ll call you soon. But I have to go. I have to hurry. Don't call me though. I don't want him to hear my phone ring," I whisper.
"Okay. But call
SOON
," he demands, as he hangs up.
Throwing the phone in my travel bag, I wheel my luggage to the door. Inhaling, I unlock the door and... silence. Marcus isn't behind the door waiting to attack me. Good. Exhaling slowly, I open the door and listen. He’s murmuring something down the hall. Maybe he did call Kayla. Good. Have each other. I hate you both. I knew I should have never trusted her, or Marcus for that matter. I can’t trust anyone. I was right!
I have to get down the stairs.
Stairs?
Dammit! Please wheels... please don't bang on the stairs. Lifting, I make my way down to my sunroom. Laptop. Purse. Keys. Money? Ha! My funny 'for a rainy day fund' jar. Marcus thought it was stupid. 'Why wouldn't you just buy what you wanted, whenever you wanted?' FOR
TODAY
,
ASSHOLE!
My rainy day jar is going to save me. God, I hope I make it out of here.
Heading for the front door, I hear nothing. Marcus doesn't know I'm leaving. Thank God, I don't have to see him, and I don't have to hear him again. There will be no more drama this evening. There will be nothing. There is just me, alone, without Marcus or my parents.
Banging my luggage down the front walkway, I'm almost there. Come on. Yes! Opening the back passenger door, I lift and shove my luggage inside. Done. Running around the car, I'm in. When my door is closed and locked, I finally exhale. I made it. Inhale. There is nothing they can do now. Exhale. I'm free from them tonight. Inhale.
Pulling out of my driveway, I look back, but there’s still no Marcus. Good. I can't see him in any window, and he's not standing in the front doorway. Marcus didn't even notice me leave. Marcus doesn't notice me ever, and tonight it worked for me! Exhale.
Where am I going? The Marriott? No way! The Hilton? Ahh,
no
. I should probably try to save as much of my 'fund' as possible. I'll just use my ATM card once, right now, in case Marcus looks for me tomorrow, though I'm sure he won't. Actually he might. Will he? NO.
Maybe?
Rounding Sheridan Road, I see a 7Eleven. Pulling into the parking lot a little too aggressively, I actually get a dirty look from a man holding a little gir
l’
s hand. Ah, how cute-
Daddy and his little girl.
Did my father ever hold my hand when I was little? I can't remember but I don't think so. Why are they out at this time of night?
Running into the store, I spot the ATM. What’s the code? I'm drawing a blank. Oh, yeah, Marcus' birthday.
Of course
. Why not
my
birthday? I know, because Marcus told me to use his. ‘$500.00 maximum limit at this machine’? What happens if I get the money and put my card in again? Will that work? I'll try. No.
Dammit.
I need more money.
My iPhone starts ringing. Did he realize I left? Please no... Yup, it’s Marcus. I'm not answering. No way. Why don't they have an ignore button? Actually, I'm sure there's an App or something for that. There’s an App for everything, so there
has
to be an
‘ignore husband’
App.
Across the street is a mom and pop store. How does it stay in business with the big 7Eleven across the street? Who cares? ATM? Yes. $400.00 daily maximum. What IS this? Even the ATMs are against me tonight.
A few blocks away there’s a gas station with another store attached. I should fill up before Marcus cancels my credit cards. $56.00 dollars in gas?
Jeez...
I didn't even notice I was on empty.