Illumination

Life sucks . . .

   " I never want to speak to you again!"  Alexa  screamed into the phone and slammed down the receiver.  Jacob had cheated on her three months ago, but he had come slinking back. begging for forgiveness.  Like a fool, she had given him a second chance to break her heart.  Finding out this afternoon had hurt worse than the last time.  Her mother's words rang in her ears.  Honey, he'll do it again.  'Won't you be happy to know he did, dearest Mommy!' she thought  Once again, her mother had been proven right. 

   Alexa had never had any luck with men.  She had been cheated on by every guy she had ever dated and  Derek had gotten cold feet six weeks before the wedding. 

   The phone rang again.  She frantically grabbed it, anxious to see if it was Jacob.  Her face fell, it was her mother.  "Hi Mom." rolling her eyes.

   "Did you have any luck finding a job?"

   "No Mom, but it's only been three weeks."   

   "Why don't you try that friend of yours you went to school with.  Fran, wasn't it?"

   "I already did Mom."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear."

   "Look Mom, its been a really bad day.  Can we talk later?"

   "Sure Honey.  Talk to you tomorrow."

   She had only had one job since college.  Before that, all she had ever done was flip burgers and its not like that would pay for her apartment rent and new car.  Once again, her mother's voice echoed. You shouldn't buy such an expensive car until you have a nest egg.  Thanks Mom.  Right again, but she would not give her the satisfaction. 

   "Oh!" she jumped as the phone rang.  She had been so lost in thought, it startled her.  Checking the caller ID for Jacob's name, she frowned in dismay.  "Great."  Now the bank was calling her, too.  She was late with the car payment.  She had already been late with the gas bill and had received a disconnect notice last week.    Her cellular phone provider had also called and only given her another week extension of service.  If  she didn't come up with some cash soon, she didn't know what she would do.   At lunch, she had been mortified when her card had been declined.  Fran had been gracious enough to pick up the check, but Alexa's cheeks still turned pink at the memory.

   Getting up to get a glass of water, she caught her red fuzzy slipper on the edge of the couch and flew into the foyer, hitting the linolium hard.  Trying to catch herself with her hands, she heard the pop before she felt the rush of pain in her left wrist.  The scream she voiced made her cat Tizzy startle and dash across her into the kitchen and raking her nails across Alexa's back in the process.  

   After what seemed like forever, sobbing  blindly until there was a puddle on the linoleum, she moved to take stock of her injuries.  Her toe throbbed.  She had bruised knees, seeing blood soaking through her pants.  She also had hit her right cheek on the floor and as she rubbed the spot, knew it would sport a bruise and probably a black eye.  But the worst damage by far was her rapidly swelling wrist.  She couldn't even move it a little without crying out in pain. 

   Getting slowly to her feet while supporting it, she gingerly made her way to the bathroom, looking in the drawer for her ace wrap before making her way to the kitchen for an ice pack.  She was digging dejectedly through the meager contents of the freezer when the phone rang again.  "Uuhhhhh!" she sounded in frustration.  She knew it was probably just another bill collector or worse, her mother again.  Even so, she found herself groping her way to the phone curious to see. 

   Unknown caller.  "Hello?" she answered.  No response on the other end.  "Hello?"  Still nothing.  She could hear very faint rasping.  "Listen, whoever this is, I can hear you breathing, so if you don't have the balls . . . "  The line went dead. 

   There came a knock on the door. 

   By the time she had hobbled over to it, the knocking had turned to pounding.  "I'm coming! Okay?"  She yanked the door open to find her next door neighbor standing there with her arms crossed.  "What is it, Mrs. Portinsky?" she growled. 

   "Do you have any idea what kind of racket you are making in here?  I couldn't even hear my game show.  If I have to turn up the volume any louder, then every one would complain to the super."  She complained acidly.

   "Mrs. Portinsky," Alexa started in an exaggeratedly patient manner, "you are the only one that complains to the super about anyone else, so I hardly think that is a problem.  Secondly," she continued, ignored the outraged Hummpff!, "I just nearly broke my neck and am pretty sure that if I had not just lost my job and my health insurance that I would be calling an ambulance at this very moment!" her voice had been rising with each syllable.  "So, if you don't mind, would you please take your wrinkled old butt back to where it spends all of its days and all of its nights on your god-awful ugly couch and leave me the hell alone!"  And with that she slammed the door in her astonished face. 

   Alexa made her way to the bathroom medicine cabinet dejectedly.  Her shoulders slumped as the weight of the world was suddenly upon her.  The past few weeks of worry and struggle bearing her down, she felt she had hit emotional rock bottom.  She thought about how different her life had been just a few short weeks ago.  As she shook the Percoset that she had left from her hammertoe surgery three months ago into her hand,  life seemed as if it could not be any more meaningless or empty.  Then it registered through the fog that she was staring at nine more pills resting at the bottom of the pill bottle.   

   Nine little answers to all her problems . . .

and then . .

   His fingers twitched nervously over the phone.  He wanted to call her again.  The sound of her voice had almost sent him over the edge.  His nerves had thrilled in response, he had been unable to keep his labored breathing in check so she had heard him.  The anticipation was always the best part.  First, the watching and the waiting, then the planning and strategizing.  Sometimes the act itself was nearly anticlimactic. 

   He needed to hear her voice again.  She had sounded so angry.  She had not been afraid like the others.  He hoped she would be more challenging than they had been.  He enjoyed breaking them.  She would be very afraid before he was done . . .

   But no, he must start to work if he was going to complete his task before morning.  He had begun his stalking weeks ago after he had noticed her at the unemployment office.  He was signing up for his benefits to resume since he had been fired again.  Immediately, he followed her home and watched her for the next three days.

   Finally deciding she would be his next target, he went home to collect the old equipment he had kept from his brief stint at the telephone company.  She had not even suspected a thing when he knocked on her door, daringly posing as a telephone repairman checking the phone lines.  While she sat in the livingroom updating her facebook status, he had cased the apartment, noting the layout and checking for alarms.  Pretending to test the phone line, he had inserted a small transmitter into the receiver end and left.   After that, listening to her phone calls made watching her much easier. 

   He entered her apartment two days ago when she left for a lunch date with some Fran-person.  This had given him the opportunity to block her ducts, sealing each one off before carefully replacing the covers.  Finally, he had jacked the seal on her bedroom window.  She had large window coverings, so she hadn't noticed the spot where he had pried the rubber seal away and, with a glass cutting tool, carved a small cylindrical shape in the glass at the bottom corner before once more filling it with a small piece of foam.  In this way, she would not notice the enlarged hole and he could easily poke it through the hole when all was in place. 

   His last preparation was rolling out the long line of tubing  with a tapered end that ran from his exhaust pipe to the back of Alexa's apartment building.  Reminding himself not to get sloppy in his haste, he had everything ready as waited in the bushes for her bedroom lights to switch off.

   When he was certain she was asleep, he started the engine.  After a few moments waiting to see if the noise drew anyone’s attention, he tiptoed quietly to her window . . .

it gets worse.

   Alexa woke with a burning sensation in her throat and the worst pounding in her head she had ever experienced.   The dizzying pain shot from one temple to the other, reverberating back through her skull.  She knew instinctively that she couldn't open her eyes.  Even a tiny amount of light with a headache this severe would be like knives through her corneas.  Instead, she switched her focus to the bile in her throat produced by the nausea. 

   Realizing belatedly that focusing on it was a mistake, she fought to keep down the noxious tide.  But the more she tried to fight it, the more inevitable the result.  She bleakly hoped once it came up she would feel better.  But something was blocking her mouth, denying the contents of her stomach exit .

   The fight for air became her new focus, gagging on the vomit that couldn't go past the duct tape that held her mouth its prisoner.  She choked and spasmed and aspirated the noxious tide, her lungs now on fire.  After an eternity, she swallowed the remainder and got her breath, struggling to breathe through her nose to ease the drowning sensation.  She tried to swim through the fog, but she was so tired.  Her head still pounded with a regular rhythm, worsened by the recent lack of oxygen.  The smallest move was just too much effort.  Now her eyes were wet with the tears of strain.  She opened them to find a blurry form across the room, watching her.  Her slowing heart picked up its frightened tempo once more. 

*******

   The headache was a little better, she noted as she came to.  It was just a dull throb as she fought to open her leaden eyes.  She was in her bedroom, but something was wrong.  Then she registered the duct tape across her face, plastered with the putrid remnants of her emesis.  Immediately, panic filled her still clouded brain, demanding action of her limbs.  She was bound.  Then, a shadow fell across her as a figure came towards her.

*******

   Mrs. Portinsky heard another thump.  Huumppff!  Now I know that girl is just trying to get a rise out of me!  She's just making a commotion  so I'll come back over there.  Well, I won't do it!  She can just bump and bang all she wants and just see how much good it does!!  A groan escaped as she rose to adjust the volume on her television set.

*******

   Alexa woke from her blackout but she rejected the idea, the black nothingness her only solace.  Her joints screamed at the painful angles in which she was bound.  He had grown exasperated when she refused to cry out in pain at his cruel manipulations and intrusions and clubbed her across the face, knocking her out.  She had only turned a defiant eye and renewed her struggles.

********

   The blood dripped into her eyes, turning the room into a red haze.  She couldn't even tell if he was there any more, silence her only companion.  Her head drooped in exhaustion. 

   The phone rang.  Probably a bill collector, she thought morbidly.  Ironically,  she would be delighted to speak with them now.  Her debts seemed so insignificant.  Her unemployment was trivial.  She would gladly do the most menial task.  She thought of Jacob and how he had once held her gently. 

   The phone quit ringing.  Maybe it had been her mother.  A surge of longing overwhelmed her.  Tears rinsed the blood and sweat from her eyes and formed small rivulets across the duct tape as she realized how badly she wanted to hear her mother's voice.

   She wanted to live.

 

Reviews

[Brantwijn]

I have to admit, this story really creeped me out.. in the way that I think it was intended to be creepy. The dark tone is excellent, the suspense is great. I really, truly hoped that by the end she would escape, but you leave it on this cliffhanger that just makes me desperate for more. I really want to know what happens to Alexa! I thought it was a teensy bit rough in the beginning between some of the sentence structure and dialogue--some of it seemed to be a bit of a run-on--but that smoothed out over the course of the story so a little polishing would take care of that.