Druken Paper Hearts

The morning was grey, the house-silent. Not a stir; not a mess. TV remote sleeping soundly, wedged between couch cushions. The TV itself had its eyes closed, off and resting. Light filtered some through dusty blinds into the living room. No coffee was made, and no aroma of breakfast filtered through the rooms. No snoring from the bedroom; no footsteps. Everything was at ease. 

The streets outside were busy; early risers were up and going.  They sipped coffee, setting mugs on the roofs of their cars as they fixed their suits one last time. Some fetched the morning paper, and then shuffled back inside, shy to mornings.

The dogs were out for walks, owners following close behind. The streets were still waking up, slowly filling up with the cities’ residence.

Carmen Rose stumbled up her steps, and gripped the bar with a death grip. The frosty, February air chilled the morning and a thin sheet of ice painted the steps.

She fought with the key and lock, fingers numb from the night before. When the key agreed, she shoved it open, and tripped over her feet into the house.

Her feet struck the door with a kick and it slammed shut, causing the TV to rattle and sound echo. She lay there for a moment, burying her fingers into the warm carpet.

Paper hearts fluttered throughout the air, scattered from the frost air before. They caressed her face as gravity grabbed them with a fist.

Her eyes creaked open, and the heart breaking words of the paper heart were read. A tear trailed down her cheek, sliding down to greet the carpet beneath her.

The haunting memory of last night returned, hanging over her head like death. She regretted the whole thing from the start.

She was back to hanging out with Aimee and the party was crazy. They had filled up on liquor, drunk and giggly. Music blared from large, tall speakers. Techno bass kept everyone moving.

Aimee had torn Carmen out of the house for a break away from her heart broken poems on obsessive small hearts strewn to her ceiling with tacks and string.

“It was never meant to be, Carmen.”  Aimee had said, squeezing her shoulder.

Moments after, she tore them down, angry and yet so cold inside. By the time Aimee returned, Carmen was a wreck, clutching the paper hearts to her chest.

“C’mon, the party will cheer you up.” Aimee encouraged as she tried to convince Carmen from her bed.

Eventually she joined her at the party. With her drunk and into the music, a young boy moved into the picture. He wedged between her and Aimee on the dance floor, smiling at Carmen.

“What’s your name?” He shouted.

“Carmen.” She answered back.

“Pretty name. I’m Evan.” He gestured toward the large table of snacks and drinks.

“I’m good.” She pointed to her beer on the table, which had disappeared. She giggled. “Alright. I’ll have a cup.”

She followed him through sweaty, dancing bodies and over to the punch. Her feet argued some with her as she struggled to find a seat.

“Great party, huh?” Even smiled.

Carmen took a bite of a mini sandwich and nodded. Her hair was up in long tendrils passed her shoulders, chestnut and glittery. She fashioned a sleeveless white top and jeans with flats. She was laid back and had more to drink than she should have.

Evan handed her a cup of punch as he got his own. Evan had a tough face, recent scars of fist fights and warm hazel eyes. His black hair was down to his ears, newly trimmed that morning. He wore a BOTDF shirt and baggy jeans with Nikes.

“Good to rest after a long dance.” He tried small talk, but Carmen’s mind was elsewhere, staring at her ex on the dance floor with a blonde. “Hey, Carmen.”

She glanced at him. “Yeah?”

“Should I take you home?” He eyed her.

She smiled some. “Depends, how much alcohol did you consume?”

“A few beers have given me a nice buzz, but that’s all.” He rose and took out his keys. “C’mon, you’ve had a little too much.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but quickly s**t it and trailed behind him to his car. He led her to the passenger side and entered the drivers once she was in.

Carmen blinked once, and one word off the heart brought back one image. She was in the snow, cold and lost outside of town. Even was no where to be found, his car totaled.

She paid twenty dollars to a cab to take her as far as it would into town. She walked the rest of the way home on cold legs and numb toes, holding a head up with a large headache.

She buried her face into the carpet, shaking off the hearts on her face as new tears arose. She curled into a ball, and cried as the door swung open.

Aimee stood in the doorway, staring down at her broken friend. Her heart broke into pieces as she shut the door and collected her friend into her arms.

Carmen buried her face in her neck and cried.

“They’re just paper hearts…”

 

Reviews

[Imara]

"The TV itself had its eyes closed, off and resting." I love this, great line!
"... and gripped the bar with a death grip. ..." Two verbs here that state the same thing. Reword.
"...and sound echo. " Delete the word sound.
"convince Carmen from her bed." Coner her to do what. "To leave her" should be added to make it grammatically correct.
"Even " Evan :P
Wow a very depressing story.Your flashback worked perfectly taking us from the present back to that terrible night. I think you should incooperate the ex more to make the paper hearts theme tie together better at the end, yknow full cirlce.. I really loved this you gave the characters such full roles and personalities in such a short amount of time. I think you should go back and make it longer, add a little more action. Great job :)

[Silent Knight]

how sad. I liked it.