Runaway

Musical: Untitled

Act I
Scene I

Setting: a plain bedroom with simple drab curtains and a quilt on the small bed. The walls are white and matte. There is a very small bathroom to the right of the bed.
A Young woman slowly climbs out of bed and makes her way over to the small mirror and stares at her appearance. Her hair is tousled and blonde. She shakes her head and begins to sing…

Distortions of Me

Is there more beyond this face
Can anyone see behind these eyes
Imperfections seem to glare back at me
Is there a soul
Behind the ivory

My heart is crying out
To see more than these
Distortions of me
Beyond the surface lies
So much more and
I am no longer wrapped up
In the distortions of me

Has it always been that emotions
Have been driven by a face
How do others see it
Here in my shell
These eyes are reaching
To let the soul be heard
I have let them hear
Beyond the distortions of me

I want to ear my heart on the outside
And let others in
And love cannot be
Without a heart
No one will see
Beyond these distortions of me

Then out of nowhere a man in a yellowed white suit with bags under his eyes appears behind Abby and taps his foot waiting while she continues to cry. Then Abby looks up startled and stares at the man for several minutes and then slowly stands up to speak

Abby: (looking him up and down) Who are you?

Conscience: Is all you do is cry to yourself?

Abby: No! (she snaps and then dries her nose with her sleeve) and you didn’t answer my question?

Conscience: I’m your conscience Weepy, and I’ve come to talk to you abut your love affair with the doctor.

Abby: I don’t know what you mean, I’m not in love with anyone.

Conscience: Abby I’m your conscience, I live in your head, I know these things and he isn’t worth it.

Abby: Yeah, well, try telling my heart that (Abby sits in a kitchen chair)

Conscience: (say with attitude) Tried that, that old woman is so deaf, she can’t hear herself beat

Abby: (talking to audience) Who is this guy? He must think he actually exists or something (shrugs shoulders and raises arms as if surrendering)

Conscience: (approaches Abby and Places his hand on her shoulder) Hey! Hey! What do you mean not real, Weepy? I am so real!

Abby: Don’t call me Weepy and no your not real, you’re just in my head (points to her temple)

Conscience: Try telling your psychiatrist that without ending up in a padded cell

Abby: Go away! I’m fine! (turns away from him angrily)

Conscience: Yeah sure, crying here to yourself, wishing you could run away and forget it all. Grow up!

Abby: I’m not listening to you anymore (starts singing lalala loudly to herself with fingers in her ears)

Conscience: And how old are you? (Puts hands on hips)

Then all of a sudden, Abby pulls her fingers out of her ears and smiles to herself. She slowly turns to Conscience smiling brightly. Then she speaks…

Abby: Why not? That’s it! I’m done, I’m leaving!

Conscience: What are you talking about?

Abby: (puts her hands on Conscience’s arms) I’m running away Conscience. I’m going to leave this dump and find a new life. (Abby goes into the bedroom, pulls out a suitcase, and feverishly starts to pack.) Why didn’t I think of it before, I mean here I was day-in and day-out working and sitting at home alone and never living. Conscience did you realize, I’m dead, I’m no longer breathing; I need to get out of here. (She pushes past Conscience and makes her way to the door).

Conscience: Abby don’t do it, you are breathing, I know I’m your conscience. Am I going to have to make you feel guilty…

Abby: (interrupting Conscience) You can’t anymore, I’m done. I am leaving, I want to live. I am tired of being sad all of the time. I can’t be alone here anymore… (starts singing)

Come Alive

Is it me who is alone
Somewhere in time
And I feel as if I have come so much further
Than the rest
Have I come so far

And I am still searching
And my heart is no longer beating
I will come alive
And feel something inside
And I am hoping
To come alive
And to live

My hand on the surface of the water
Wants to feel what is beyond
My tears do not leave
The surface of my eyes
But at least my heart will be living

I feel as if my breathe has left my body
And my pulse has no beat
My brain dead mind
Can no longer hide
Behind the vacant eyes
And I want to come alive

Conscience: Well good luck Weepy, but remember I’ll be back.

Abby: Whatever, I won’t miss you, it’s not as if you’ve ever helped me. Goodbye see yah later.

Abby turns and grabs her suitcase off the floor and heads out the door. Scene ends.








































Scene II

Setting: A city street, Abby is standing on the sidewalk and looking around at the people running about going different places. She crosses the street and begins to walk downt he sidewalk and sings…

Distortions of Me/Come Alive

Is there more beyond this face
Can anyone see beyond these eyes
My heart is crying out
And I am still searching
And my heart is no longer beating
I will come alive
I will come alive…

Abby walks into an apartment building, which is dingy and dark, walks up to the front desk and sets her suitcase down in front of a little balding man. The she begins to sing again…

Do you have a room?


Hello sir, How are you today?
I have found myself here in this city
Without a place to live
And I was wondering
If you had a vacancy
For one lonely girl
Whose wishing to make
A new start…

Do you have a room
A simple place to stay
Where my problems go away
And I can thrive

Oh sir, please give me a room
So I may see
What life is holding for me
All…I…need is a room

Mr. Bodley begins to sing

Well my dear
I’ll see what I can do (looks in log book)
We… have…
One vacancy
Just one vacancy for you
Just one place to keep your pace
It’s for you… (hands her a key)

Abby Sings
Oh sir, thank you sir
I’m glad to have this key of yours
This key that makes my heart
Begin to beat again
I’m living
I will find love
And be happy

Mr. Bodley sings
It’s just a space
A tiny little space
No more than just a place
Where people live and make a bed
But no more…

Abby Sings
Not to me…

Abby: (speaking) This is brand new start for me, Now I can find a chance to live

Abby Sings
And now I know
What is, a chance to live

Mr. Bodley: (speaking) Well enjoy it my dear and please obey the rules (starts to speak very quickly) no drinking, no thinking, no cooking after midnight, no curtains, no pets, no men with dark hair and sexy eyes, no sisters, too loud, no fighting, too proud
And most importantly….
No dying
You die I bury you in the backyard.
Mr. Bodley leans forward and whispers
When someone dies here it takes a lot of paperwork, so if you find yourself without a pulse I will have to dispose of you myself.

Abby: That’s fine Mr. Bodley, Thank You.

Scene Ends


Scene III

Abby’s rented room is small and very dingy. The white walls are now grey, the mattress is thin, yellow, and lumpy. There is one window high above the bed, which is brown from dirt.
Abby is sitting on her dingy mattress next to her suitcase, happily taking in her new surroundings. Then her conscience appears again.

Conscience: So Weepy, are we happy now.

Abby: I’m not Weepy and yes very happy. I don’t feel guilty at all

Conscience: (speaking in a matter of fact tone) I’ve been in the Bahamas on vacation

Abby: (asks in a chatty way) Oh how was it, I hear it’s beautiful there?

Conscience: Oh it was the most beau- (he suddenly stops and turns to her again) Wait a minute! I’m not here to chat, why am I here? (rubs his chin with a puzzled expression).

Abby: To make me feel miserable/

Conscience: Yes, yes that is my purpose (speaks in a sarcastic tone and giggles slightly). I am going to make you guilty, it’s for your own good.

Abby: You no longer have a hold on my soul Conscience, I’m free (pulls her hands out as if to represent flying and being liberated)

Conscience: Oh I don’t need to have a hold on your soul (still giggling). I talked to your sister last night.

Abby: Rachel? Why?

Conscience: to remind you about your family so you’ll feel guilty.

Abby: What’s your problem, (looks him up and down again, angrily) you little evil thing?

Conscience: No honey, I’m not evil. I’m your conscience.

Abby: Now I know why I can’t stand you. But you can’t make me feel guilty without Rachel being here to scold me.

Conscience: (laughs for a moment) I told her where you were.

A loud knock and a woman’s voice is heard at the door.

Conscience: (smacks Abby in the back of the head) I am making you feel guilty for worrying those who love you. You were so busy being selfish and feeling bad about yourself that you forgot there are those who love you.

Abby looks down at her feet and sighs to herself. You can still hear commotion and knocking from her sister behind the door.
Conscience stands up and goes to hide in the closet.
Abby slowly opens the door and Rachel bursts through the door red faced and out of breath.

Rachel: what are you doing here? Come home now before you ruin your life.

Abby: (turns from her sister out of shame and in a daze) I wasn’t living before Rachel. I spent all of my time pining after a man who didn’t want me and was useless to everyone. I was wasted space, not doing anything that mattered.
But I want to change that. I am tired of being lonely and sitting around feeling sorry for myself and I want to do more. I want to mean something to the people here. I want to do some sort of good. Good I couldn’t do when I was back there feeling depressed and dejected.
I’m ashamed of myself Rachel (says in a whisper)…

Rachel: Up until now you’ve always been kind and helped others. And Dr. Ackerman isn’t worth your time? I don’t understand why you don’t feel you have any worth. You mean so much to me.

Abby: Because I’m not worth anything, you should just forget I ever existed. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror.

Rachel: So, instead of coming to talk to me, you just left without a trace. I was worried about you (sits down beside Abby and places her hand on Abby’s arm). The only reason I knew where you were was because of that ugly little man who said he knew where you were (shudders a little)

Conscience: (from behind the closet door) Hey!

Rachel: (turns her head toward the closet) what was that?

Abby; Me! I shouted, hey! He’s a good friend of mine, even if he is ugly.

Rachel: Oh sorry. So are you coming home?

Abby: No (shakes her head in sorrow), I’m done. I’m tired of feeling shameful and crying all of the time. I can’t keep failing everyone just because I have affection for a certain someone who doesn’t care about me. There are more important things.

Abby Sings
Shame

I never meant to hurt you
I wanted to show you
But I never did
No I never did
And it’s my shame
It’s my shame Rachel Sings in unison with Abby

Would someone love me I love you
If they saw my heart And I know what your heart says
It’s not pure You didn’t hurt me
No it’s not pure You mean more to me
And it’s my shame Than you can know
It’s my shame Why are you ashamed?

My shame… I love you…

Rachel: (speaking) You should never be ashamed to be in love with a man. It’s part of being a human being. And he isn’t worth it. But if you feel running away will solve your problems then stay here, but I promise you won’t be any happier.

Rachel sings

He never meant to hurt you
But you fell in love
And he never did
No he never did
And you’re ashamed
You’re ashamed

But there are those
Who love you
For who you are
And we have seen your heart

It’s sincere
Oh it’s so sincere
But you’re ashamed
You’re still ashamed

Abby sings
And it’s my shame…
I love him…
But I’m not worthy…
I’m ashamed…

This Sunday I am reaching a milestone in my life. And it came up on me so quickly. In a way it is a time where I will be officially be coming of age and finishing my ascent into full womanhood. I hope to reach my full potential with poise and dignity and enjoy being happy. Or maybe not completely.
This weekend I am going to eat junk food, enjoy lots of cake, and do as little homework as possible. Yes I am reaching a milestone, but I am also going to be spending all week studying and working and want a chance to visit with my family and celebrate the ups and downs we have had over the years. I want to be able to do more for them in my life and leave a legacy of giving and sharing. I enjoy seeing other people happy and am learning how not to be selfish.
It's going to be a great birthday and hopefully a great life!

Just some thoughts

I was in the shower last night praying and musing about some things that had been going on in my life. I spent some of the time stressed thinking about work that needed to be done and responsiblities that needed to be fulfilled. And I suddenly felt as if it were all hopeless and that I was going to fail. But then I said a prayer and thought again. Was it really as bad as I had always said it was? Was I really that unfortunate? And I soon began to think about the blessings that I had already been given by God and was dumbfounded about how much my murmuring and complaining was making me miserable.

Like the Israelites in the desert, I wanted more than what I needed. And so I griped to whomever I could possibly find and in turn left a dark cloud hovering over my head. And as I was standing in the shower, the shampoo falling down my forehead and into my eyes, I realized that those small irritations I was blowing out of proportion were just that, small. These minimal issues I was dealing with really was nothing to complain about.

So I have given myself a new goal. I want to try to stop complaining and murmuring and to take what life and God brings my way. So, I am starting by praying and spending time in God's word.

RA retreat

We went on a camping retreat in order to get to know the team of people we would be working with better. So we went to our RFL's (resident faculty leader) cabin and hung out in or around the river. All weekend it was beautiful and sunny. we spent a lot of time together and worked on many team building activities. And although we couldn't shower in those two days we all had so much fun :-).

As a resident assistant we have to do bulletin boards for our residents (picture left). On ours we decided to include important information about the offices around campus and the hours of operation of important places such as the library. We also had to make door decorations for all of the people on our floor so as to help others learn each others names. This one is mine.

Adventures of a new RA

This semester at WVU I am embarking on a new adventure. I have decided to become an RA at Pierpont Apartments. Please join me as I begin my first exciting leadership journey into a realm unknown.

The first set of pictures is from the apartment. It is the nicest place I have lived so far...

Freedom of Speech by Norman Rockwell

The Angelus by Millet

"Say! I could not tell what to say at first. Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up in my face; even this shame fetched it up, and had almost beat me quite off. but at last I began to consider, That that which is highly esteemed among Men, is had in abomination with God. And I thought again, this shame tells me what men are; but it tells me nothing what God or the word of God is. And I thought moreover, that at the day of doom we shall not be doomed to death or life, according to the wisdom and law of the highest. Therefore, I thought, what God says, is best, though all the men in the world are against it: seeing then that God prefers his religion; seeing God prefers a tender conscience;seeing they that make themselves fools for the kingdom of heaven, are, wisest; and that the poor man that loveth Christ , is richer than the greatest man in the world..."

(from "Pilgrim's Progress" ByJohn Bunyan, copyright 1936).

(http://www.answers.com/topic/angelus)

The Prodigal Son by Rembrandt

Did You Hear What I Said!?

“By failing to understand the physiological needs of our bodies, by ignoring human limitations we have followed technology and economics into a world that risks becoming unfit for the human race. We have tied together the natural global village but forgotten the temporal dimension that lies at the essence of our being” (Moore-Ede, Martin).

The strong smell of coffee is in the air as if enveloping the room in a dense cloud. Groups of many shapes and sizes huddle around small round tables and sip their cups of warm liquid as they converse with the world outside of the café. At all of the tables an individual sits, with a computer or some other sort of electronic communicator in their hand or lap and continues to fervently type away at the bright screen in front of their faces. Moreover, all the time avoiding the person sitting nearest themselves. The only sound in the café is that of the click of the keyboards and the beeps of phones. The murmur of voices does not exist and true communication is lost.
Is this not the picture of the public places frequented by groups of people from around the world? The individuals of the group are sitting with each other but they are not communicating with each other, they are communicating with others outside the café. Instead of spending our time face to face with an individual and having a deep intellectual conversation, we choose to ignore the task and skirt around it finding a way out by suddenly remembering a text message that urgently needed to be sent. Technology has helped our society in many great ways (through such learning tools as Rosetta Stone © and places to communicate about politics such as blogs), but in other ways it has hindered our ability to do things that are supposed to be in the very fibers of our beings: communication!
Due to our advances in science and technology, some of our intellectual and literary skills have been down graded and regarded almost as silly or ridiculous. In history, those traits and abilities were seen as something of great worth and esteem (Rulford, Robert). For those of us not in the history books who love books, it has been evident that we have seen this firsthand.
One Sunday afternoon my first year at school, I was sitting quietly at my desk reading a book. It was not a textbook or part of an assignment for a class; it was an enjoyable book full of mystery and suspense. As I continued to pour over the words on the crisp white pages, my roommate glided into the room and proceeded to stare at me as if I was a specimen in a museum. After looking at me for several minutes, she casually asked me what class I was studying for and I proclaimed that I was not; I was just enjoying a good book. My roommate looked at me oddly for a moment and then suggested that I get a Facebook© account so that I could meet people and not have to be sitting alone reading a book. All of sudden I felt wrong inside; it was as if she had exposed my nakedness to the world. I was ashamed of something that used to be enjoyable to me. Book reading and expanding one’s mind used to be an art form that is now only considered a paragraph in a history book.
Throughout the seventeenth century, people would pay sums of money in order to meet in people’s homes; these meetings were referred to as salons. In these salons, the group would spend hours communicating on topics such as politics, religion, and art. The people who would be talking would speak so passionately that they would raise their voices or laugh in delight. The getting together and meeting to talk was vital to their social existence and encouraged reading and study of the subjects, which were discussed (D’Evelyn, Tom). How could something that used to be so important and so entertaining be regarded as ridiculous. Expanding the mind via literature has never been a bad thing; in fact, it is responsible for creating much good in the world.
So, what have we lost? In the twenty-first century, conversation is purposefully avoided. The moment that the word religion or politics seeps from the lips of an individual, like a computer virus into a program, the other individual quickly changes the subject as to avoid catastrophic damage to their own ideals. Recently, people are afraid of being offended and challenged. If the name Jesus Christ seeps from a person’s lips or if the subject of abortion being wrong is talked about, someone becomes hardheaded and guarded, as if protecting themselves from homicide to their opinions and religious beliefs. To avoid the subject the person takes out his or her phone and begins to text message a friend about how shocked he or she is that one would speak of such things in front of him or her. A person’s trepidation allows him or her to use technology as a crutch and has given the individual the opportunity to be lazy. If their ideas are not challenged, they have no need to do research and study to create a good argument. Therefore, conversation becomes a petty instance of “hi, how are you” and that is the end of it. In addition, no one really learns anything or is able to have a meaningful moment with someone they deemed important in their life. Friends no longer carry on conversations and never comprehend how their loved one felt about an issue.
What has happened to grammar? IDK and @ are not words. They are computer symbols that should only be used in the realm of cyberspace or are used in specific job fields, which are not always understood in nonprofessional terms. It seems that symbols such as these have crept into other parts of our lives and have corrupted our ability to spell. There have been instances of students using these symbols in essays and projects, where they do not belong. However, why should one need to spell when the Microsoft word processor does it for you? I must admit that these tools are good, but in moderation. Being able to double check spelling and grammar is a good thing but when it becomes a crutch so much that a person cannot spell on their own, and then we have a problem. The use of computers and cell phones has become a drug more addictive and more deadly to the human mind than anything else ever seen in the human race. People slowly start to use emails and stop writing letters. Soon they are sending text messages and not talking on the phone at all. After that, they spend time watching television shows and movies on YouTube instead of spending time reading a book. It is a sad moment in history.
Where are we headed? If we continue at this rate, we will be illiterate and unable to learn (Schwartz, Susan). Computers will read, do work, and slowly control every aspect of our lives. Global awareness is important, but how can we be aware of what is written in a newspaper or magazine article if we can no longer read? Moreover, how are we to comprehend news shows on politics and disease epidemics when we cannot understand basic vocabulary? Technology has become another form of idol worship that has the ability to engulf the world in its dark snare. There is nothing “old fashioned” or weird about having a meaningful conversation or reading a book. On the other hand, there is nothing wrong with Facebook© or YouTube© (but not to the extent of getting carpel tunnel or going blind), but how about shutting the computer down for a couple of hours to go outside of the room and get some fresh air (Norwich, William).
The challenge is not necessarily to read more books and have more dynamic conversations, but maybe just be able to converse openly and honestly. In this way we can spread global awareness of issues by word of mouth, to allow the truth and real knowledge to drift into the limelight; it will encourage someone to truly make a difference in our world. Nevertheless, with conversation there must be listening, so how about taking the head phones out and putting the IPod© away.
Let us talk!

Consulting the Lady (A Story)

Chapter One

It started when he decided to buy the house outside of the city. He had originally told me that he was looking for a house in the country in order to satisfy some need to get away from the crowds and the noise of a naked city. But in many ways I was suspicious. I was not happy to learn that he had not included me in his decision to search for our new home, but lately he had been doing many things behind my back.
We had been married for three years and seemed to be getting along well. But deep inside I could feel the separation beginning to grow in our hearts. It was as if an unseen hand was being wedged in between our two beings and we could not draw near to each other in order to save the emotions that we had felt. And each day I woke up beside him, I felt the fears that were welling up inside of him that would lead to paranoia. He was beginning to feel suffocated by the wife who lay in the bed next to him and I was tired of his many deceptions.
So, we bought the house.


I remember the first day that Brian took me out to see it. He was so proud, like a young boy who had built some small thing from scratch. The smile on his face was as wide as I had ever seen it and his hands were clenched in anticipation. Slowly we made our way down the sunny wooded road. The curves of the road and the sun that shined on my face made me slightly queasy and I held tightly onto the arm rest wondering why I had gone along with the buying of the house out in the middle of “no man’s land” where I had never been before. The whole trip became a bit of a chore for me. And as we continued down the lonely road, I also felt a sense of dread grow like weeds in a garden. It began to implant itself into the pit of my stomach and would not diminish. Inside I felt that something was very wrong with the decision that we had made and as we neared our destination the feelings become even more overpowering. But I tried to hold it inside and act as pleasantly as possible, I did not want Brian to feel that I was a weak and silly female who could not handle a move to the country. And I allowed myself to calm down and to look at the beautiful scenery about me.
It was a beautiful place. Beyond the trees that lined the road there was a flat expanse of fields and beyond that were an assortment of mountains. It was as if the green and gray mountains were piercing the clear blue sky and protecting the earth below from its severe state. The air was cool and clean as it filtered through the windows and acted as a cooling agent to the stuffiness of my skin. Slowly I began to ignore the feeling in my heart and the idea of moving to a new place, it could be a new start for Brian and me. Maybe Brian and I could start over and fix our marriage.











Chapter Two
We finally turned off of the road and turned into a long driveway. Any house that had been around for more than a hundred yeas had had a long drive way, which did not make much sense, since cars were not even invented until the early nineteen hundreds.
Nevertheless, our car crawled down the gravel drive. Slowly my heart began to beat with anxiety. It was as if I was about to face some judgment; judgment for a crime that I did not commit.
As we traveled over another gravel hill, the house came into view. It stood in front of us as if a giant being. The large darkened windows were like dark eyes which showed the very soul of the house. This soul was empty and lonely; it had never understood the importance of love, affection, or emotion, but instead had remained aloof. And it slowly created a hatred for anyone who would inhabit the place. The brick of the house was worse than the darkened windows. They stood as harsh reminders of the fortress that stood beyond it.
My feet were like cinderblocks as I exited the car. My stomach was full of butterflies, as if warning me to turn back and runaway, to keep as far away from it as possible. We entered the establishment slowly and Brian kept grinning at me as if he was giving me the “Hope Diamond.” The house was cool and smelled of darkness, as if the whole place belonged below ground.
He took my hand and led me through the vast rooms of the house. I numbly listened to him as he continued to chatter about the plans he had make for each room. And suddenly, my mind seemed to turn back on, as if a switch was flipped. It felt as if the insides of my entire being were on fire and I became angry. He had not chosen to consult with me about these plans. I don’t believe he had ever listened to me when I talked to him about us being equals and making decisions together. It was as if he was asserting his leadership over me; he considered himself to be above me somehow, instead of my equal. This revelation began to press onto my heart and made me suddenly sad at the same time. Why couldn’t things just be easy for all? And why was I in this house today, looking at rooms that I do not want to inhabit. It was a question that would continue to plague me for a long time.
Brian and I finally made our way to the back of the house and into the kitchen. He continued to go on about his ideas for the room and I listened a little more attentively. I was attentive, not because it was the thing I should do to be a good wife, but to prove to him that I was the better person. Well according to my anger and pride I was a better person. And I allowed our differences to build a rift between us. Sighing, I turned to actually look at my surroundings. The house itself wasn’t bad; I had come to this place in a bad mood and judged it before I got a chance to look at it. But something still felt wrong to me and I was not sure how to shake the feeling.

Two weeks later, we moved in. Our furniture from the apartment barely filled the large rooms, leaving more space than we needed. Each room looked like a museum that was under budget and could not afford to fill it. It made the whole place eerie and odd looking. I did not feel at home in the surroundings at all and I wanted to turn and leave again. But I buckled down and started unpacking the small amount of boxes that took up the space of about ten tiles out of thousands in the large foyer. I picked a small box up and began to take it up the enormous staircase and into the bedroom. I slowly unpacked our objects and began to set up house in the room.
As I was placing some books on a shelf I heard a sound behind me and quickly turned around. The book dropped to the floor. I looked around the room but there was no one in sight. I thought that it was my imagination playing tricks on me. And I turned back to my chore. But a gnawing feeling kept tugging at the back of my brain and would not relent. So I set the book down and headed downstairs. Brian was in the kitchen getting a drink of water, or so I thought, as I neared the kitchen I heard the sink running, but as I approached the threshold of the kitchen I heard another sound.
I heard my husband’s voice talking soft and low, as if he were in a darkened theater and needed to ask a question. I stood next to the doorway and listened.

“She loves the place, yeah of course. I knew it would work.” He spoke first and then silence took over as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Well I have a lot of work to do here, but it will be worth it when we finish and I will have taken care of the real problem….”
What problem?
“…And if you need anything give me a call. Alright, see you later.” I heard the beep as he silenced the conversation of the cell phone. I felt as if I had just been punched in the stomach and was going to regurgitate on the mahogany wood floor. Something was very wrong about that conversation, but I did not know what. I tried to disregard my feelings and let it go, he may not have been trying to be secretive, and being hushed doesn’t mean there is something to hide. But I still felt wrong about the conversation. Slowly I turned and headed into the kitchen. Before I could stop it I felt my mouth opening and forming words.
“So, who was that on the phone?” I regretted it as soon as it came out. He might become suspicious of me.
“What are you talking about?” He looked at me as if I had grown antlers.
“I heard you talking to someone.”
“Really? Maybe you were making up another one of those crazy daydreams.” He enjoyed making fun of my overactive imagination; he could not understand my thought processes.
“Please don’t mock me.” I said it in the same hushed tone that he had just used on the phone.
“Then, I won’t.” His voice had an angry sarcastic tone to it. And I knew as soon as he left the room that he considered that the end of the conversation. I wanted to be sick.
I turned to follow him down the hallway, but stopped suddenly as if stopped by an invisible wall between us. He noticed my hesitation behind him and turned quickly and stared at me strangely.
For a moment I thought he was possessed. The look in his eyes was an odd far away glance as if he was looking through me. But his eyes were also filled with an emotion that I could not read. I saw his lips begin to utter something, and glanced at his clenched fists at his side. My heart slowly began to pound as he drew near me slowly, as if slithering toward my person. And after a moment of brief shock, I turned and began to quickly turn back and head for the kitchen.
My feet felt as if they were going to fall off of my ankles and my heart began to leap into my chest. I could feel his breathing on my neck now. It was hot and almost felt sinister. I was not sure what to make of it, but it felt as if he was moving me in that direction, without even touching me. As if his mind had control over my limbs and I was at the mercy of his power.
It felt like years before we reached the kitchen and I collapsed in a chair, surprisingly, exhausted! He plunked the chair across from me down and sat staring at me. My body froze in fear and I waited to hear him speak. He just sat there scrutinizing me for several minutes. The silence was like a dense cloud in the air and the dread I was feeling slowly began to feel more like terror.
We just sat there for several minutes staring at each other and thinking behind our eyes. I wouldn’t doubt that we were both wondering what each person was thinking and was trying to find a smart way to get the upper hand. I didn’t want to seem suspicious, I had already done that with the phone call and now he was acting so peculiarly. Slowly I pulled myself up off of the chair and proceeded to move away from the table. Suddenly he slammed his fists on the table, stood up quickly, and left the room. A couple seconds later I heard the front door slam.
I sank into the chair again and shook my head. I suddenly felt exhausted and ashamed. Ashamed of what, I wondered?