I Wake Up

i wanted to create a story with ambiguity. is jo a girl or boy? is the narrator? i also love this line "Handsome , straight, but with a little bend in the middle".

 

The sound of an uncoordinated splash echoes about behind me as it cascades onto the pavement. I don’t even turn round. I know he’s drunk his weight and I’d rather spare myself the sight of his puke.

I stagger on, my sight seriously impaired, the street around me blurs around the edges, and I feel like I’m on a ship, trying to keep my balance in a rough sea.

Tomorrow we’ll both feel it, at least, he will, that’s for sure, me I can handle it

 

Morning arrives, fresh crisp light splinters through the thin white curtains and I blink my eyes awake. My eyes adjust on Sam’s face, and my entire body recoils from his vomit stained breath. The gel in his hair has congealed on one side, into a tangled ball of fuzz. I stroke my fingers through my own. As far as my numb fingers can make out, my style is still intact. It would be, I think to myself, I use more expensive stuff. My eyelids close hazily over my tired eyes, the last thing they recall is Sam’s nose.

 

Handsome , straight, but with a little bend in the middle. Somebody else would call it a “roman” nose. It’s tucked in underneath and in-between his blue eyes, and they sit underneath thick eyebrows. I remember those eyes the first time I saw them, shining in the bright sunshine. That was the day I sat on the bus playing the blind game with myself. Keeping my eyes open, looking up at the sunlight as it filtered down through the leaves. It’s okay to look then, because the leaves obscure some of the light, making it easier to handle. The game is, to quickly close your eyes during the patches of light that suddenly emerge, when there are no leaves to obscure it. I had just lost the game, and my eyes stung. Water had filled my eyelids and everything was furry. I looked up and rubbed my eyes. Sam’s eyes were the first colour I saw, they caught my attention, I looked around his frame. His coal black hair was the second thing I noticed, the way it sat atop his rounded head.

 

I open my eyes, Sam’s turned over. I can see his shoulder blades through his white shirt, more than likely it’s his school shirt, but minus the tie and jumper, it passes for “dressed up”. Four years ago, Sam slung his tie around my neck, we were wrestling, play fighting, he was mock strangling me, he pulled me towards him, and we came close enough, practically close enough that he could easily have kissed me.

 

I pick my head up and look over Sam’s sleeping body at the alarm clock on the side table. It’s 1:30. Four and a half hours from now, I’ll be at work.

 

Sam and a couple of the boys come to the bar after I finish work down in the restaurant, which everyone calls the dungeon. I’ll change in his car and we’ll go out drinking in the square.

 

Last week we all picked music on the duke box. It only has ten albums on, so we play the best of the Red hot chili peppers. It comes to three pound sixty each time. We all club together with the change we’ve accumulated over the course of the night. We never listen to the last few songs, because we leave after the last pint glasses are emptied. Sam’s favorite song comes on first, and he always sings it at the top of his voice, though you couldn’t understand a word of it from out his mouth.

 

Sam nudges me with his elbow, it presses firmly against my gut.

 

“better get up” he says

“right” I reply, though it comes out more like “ri-hi”, my throat is gruff and dried up.

 

Sam gets up and takes a piss in the toilet across the hall. I sit up, slip the covers off me and then stand up. I notice there is a two pence next to my right foot and wonder how it got there.

 

Sam’s phone lights up, and plays rings out with “Hello Moto”.

 

“what’s it say?” sam shouts from the toilet, he’s brushing his teeth. He takes his toothbrush absolutely every-where and insists on brushing after every meal, deranged.

 

“it’s from Jo” I shout back, with as little disgust in my voice as I can manage. “I’m coming over to get my straighteners” I shout, scrolling down the text. “they’re on DA side-table”.

 

“ah indeed they are” Sam says, as we walks back into the room.

“there’s toothpaste on your shirt”

 

I pull him down to me and lick my thumb, smudging the white stain until it disperses.

 

“thanks love” and he kisses me.

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Kevin Doran]

I loved the story pet, it was toop notch. I am going to treat it like the stories we workshop... So I am going to just be honest ok? well you cant answer so I will guess yes is your reply.

The narration style is really good. I like the ambiguity, although if you want to keep the narrator a puzzle then maybe the line "a couple of the boys" could do with some reworking as the narrator feels included. also the paragraph that line is in is a touch confusing, it feels out of tense... IE I dont know entirely whether that is what happens every night or just that night... maybe you meant to do that though so I wont complain.

Maybe in this section

"Morning arrives, fresh crisp light splinters through the thin white curtains and I blink my eyes awake."

you could cut out "my eyes" as you repeat eyes a few times in this paragraph, and blinking awake is a prettiful description.

I liked the description of the light, although it did trip me up a little, maybe it was just me though. the flow is nice throughout though.

I also don't know whether it was purposeful, but the innuendos throughout add a wonderful sexual tension.

And you used me for your b*****d character... you hate me! I knew it.lol.