Conflicting Ego

This is a story I wrote quite a long time ago in high school.

Conflicting Ego

     The subway ride was a long one. It usually took Rita twenty minutes to get home, but tonight she’d been traveling for hours. Work had been long and tiring. Rita could still see the green glow from the computer terminal and the telephone still rang in her ears. Now everything was quiet. The subway car had only three other people in it. Outside the lights flashed by as the subway moved onward. Unlike the lights, the air didn’t move. A stale stench of old cigars and rotting food hung in the air. Graffiti littered the walls and seats. 

     The doors opened on the right side. Rita walked out into a crowd of people. They all walked past her in no rush. The crowd was moving slowly and no one talked and no one looked at her. Small people, fat people, beautiful people, ugly people, children, elderly people, teenagers, and they all walked along as if they were all going to the same place. Rita tried to yell. When the words finally choked through her throat, there wasn’t any response. No one stopped and no one looked. Rita’s pulse quickened and her adrenaline flowed. She searched the hallway for a bathroom...an escape. Never had she been so scared.

     Rita made a mad dash to the bathroom. She looked around for any of the zombies she had escaped from. All was clear. She splashed water over her face and stared in the mirror. There, looking back at her, was the image of herself...the nobody. Tired eyes, dull, graying hair, nothing of what a real human being should be like. Rita wasn’t happy yet she wasn’t sad either. She had done nothing great in her life. She was average or perhaps lower, but never above. She had never made a mark on the world as a constant reminder of her.

     Her heart had slowed down and Rita felt a little better. She wiped her face which was  all wet with water and mixed with tears. She opened the bathroom door. Empty. The subway station was totally empty. All the slow moving people were gone. There were no people, no trains and even no smell. Rita walked down the hall. Only dim lights. The heels of her shoes echoed through the emptiness. Alone she walked further down the hall until she got to a point where the hallways split. Rita looked down the first hallway. Everthing was dark. That hallway seemed to go on forever. The other hallway seemed a little brighter. Near then end there was a light. Rita walked towards the light. The closer she got, she noticed that the light was coming from a half open door. Rita walked through.

     Through the door was a room. It looked as though it was a conference room. A big, long table sat in the middle of the room. Around the table tall men in black suits sat. One seat was empty. In that spot, a card laid which said Rita Cartell. Rita’s face flushed from shock. She sat at “her” place at the table and looked from man to man. No expression was on their face.

     The man at the opposite end of the table slowly stood up.

     “We’re glad you could join us. We’ve been waiting Mrs. Cartell.”

     His voice was a monotone and his face didn’t show that he was glad to see her. Rita just sat and listened. They were the only talking people she had seen since getting off the subway and more importantly they were talking to her.

     “Do you know, Rita Cartell, who you are? What have you done in your life? Are you worthy of existing as a human being?”

     The man stopped suddenly. A single tear fell from Rita’s eye. She knew the answers to the man’s questions, yet for some reason she began to lose faith in those answers that had been her truth for so long. 

     “No,” Rita jumped up from the table, “you’re wrong! I am somebody! I have two beautiful children, a wonderful husband, and great parents. My life is my own! I’m going home!”

     Rita jumped up from the table and ran with all her might. The lights in the hall grew stronger and stronger. Rita closed her eyes. Voices started talking in her head. Her adrenaline pumped and her heart raced. She ran until she came to a dead end. Rita opened her eyes suddenly. Faces. Surgeons. Tubes. Smiles.

     Rita laid on an operating table. Sweat formed on her face. Rita Cartell was alive.

Reviews

[JENY]

Liked very much the story of Rita…
I feel very happy…
That you dealt with such a serious topic……conflicting egos…during your high school days….
Because…nowadays…
High school students are obsessed with erotic themes….
A nice story…..

[Viki Rachel]

Wow that was so powerful. Great job.

[Bella-Marie]

Haha. That was a great ending. I loved the "writer's tone" you kept throughout. Great ideas put into great writing.