Give Me A Break

If anyone needed to get a life and move on, it was Taylor. The world he created for himself was nothing short of fantasy. He believed it, and thought everyone else should also.

As I walked into the room, a breeze blew goose bumps all along my arms, making me shiver. The lights were off; he sat alone in the darkness of the living room. I can’t say that I wasn’t afraid for my life. But for his life, that could be a different story. Why I gave him a key to the apartment, I will never know.

 

The shabby old blue recliner reflected the twenty extra pounds my a*s placed on it by rebelling with a noise that echoed through the house. I reached over and flipped the light on, then waited for what was next. Any moment I was going to be bored out of my wits from the endless lies and tallest tales that any one person could ever imagine from a small brain. 

 

Taylor sat on the couch in a daze as if life had dealt him a blow that he didn’t know how to accept. That was nothing new for him; it had become a signature look for him. I had seen it a time or two during our seven years of marriage. Even have it committed to memory. Although he looked a little stressed, he was still as handsome as the day I had met him. He had a smooth dark complexion with a sharp structured face. His brilliant white teeth stood out against hair dark that hung just below the eyebrows in front and above the shoulders in the back. He was never the type to work out, but then again he didn't need too. There was nothing wrong with his body structure. He was just fine and he knew it. 

 

The awkward tension in the air was interrupted when the phone rang. Crossing the room to answer was when Taylor sprung into action. Placing his hands on my tense shoulders, he stopped me. He had come with a script; just like I knew he would. He knew his lines, moves, cues, he had them perfected. I just had common sense and had been around him long enough that I could read that script.

 

 “We have to talk now,” he said with a look like he had just found his dog of twenty years dead—the dog he never had. It was a look I could no longer stomach. Suddenly, I could picture that look on the side of milk cartons everywhere, millions of milk cartons. I shuddered at that thought, but then again would ever anyone notice he was missing.

 

 “Please, come and sit beside me. There is something I need for you to understand. It is very important for me.” He said. 

 

Everything was always important for him. There was never a time or thing that was not important. Whatever he touched became important, most of all Taylor was very important to Taylor. Life was nothing but a game and he played it well. And of course, guess who the winner always was? Taylor.

 

Call Notes finally put an end to the ringing phone. Taylor led me to the couch where I consciously sat between him and the door. With him you could never be too careful, he was not a threat, but the need to run was always a possibility.

 

“It is very important that you understand what I am going to say. You are well aware…” and the saga had begun. I don’t know what he said, nor do I care. If anyone needed to get a life and move on, it was Taylor. The world he created for himself was nothing short of fantasy. He believed it, and thought everyone else did also. For me, his soap opera ended long ago.

 

"…I realize that we were discussing reconciliation for the children’s sake but…” I heard him say.

 

Why didn't I just remind him that reconciliation usually required a second person? I never could reconcile with this man. Who in the right mind would try to board a train that has left the station? Like most people, I had finally admitted to my limitations and he was one of them. Staring at him, it amazed me at how much he was still an active part of my life, even five years after the divorce.

 

That look, I was sick to death of seeing it. All I ever wanted to do was smack it off his face. Then there was his voice that made my stomach churn. He talked none stop, all the time, so predictable. I knew exactly what he was doing. Throwing his own little pity party, thinking he was leaving in good graces. His mind worked like that of a chess game, always working ahead, using strategic moves. He covered all his bases, left options open, and was never one to burn bridges, especially now that his concerns for his new young bride and her new best friend Janice where at their highest. Janice was also my old ex best friend. I saw a pattern forming. I knew why he sat there in my living room, he fished for information.

 

Taylor was aware that I had seen Clara and Janice when they thought no one was watching. The affection they showed toward one another was more than just friendly, it fashioned more toward the intimate, and tongue was involved also. Those things he could find out on his own, he might even enjoy it when it happened. I just knew that fire was not going to be fueled by me.

 

Taking a deep slow breath I praying silently that he would notice I really just didn’t care anymore, I had moved on. My life changed when he decided to explore new territory that belonged on my ex best friend Janice’s body. Oh well, that was history and they all deserved each other. Although it would be interesting to see which one would walk away with whom at the end of that relationship?

 

 

The noise in my head would not stop as long as he was breathing. He went on and on as always. Tears flowed from eyes that roved; words fell from a mouth that deceived. Sitting next to him I wondered why I had spent so much money and used so many endless hours in therapy and counseling, when it was apparent who really needed it.

 

“You know that I love you. I have loved you since the day I laid eyes on you. If I could turn time back…” he continued.

 

Will you shut up? I wanted to scream. He was never going to shut up. This had to stop and soon, my sanity remained on balance here. Reality seemed to be slipping away further by the minute. Bile crept up in the back of my throat, swallowing hard I just knew I was going to hurl my dinner any moment. That was when a thought popped into my head, which was a bad place for anything to begin anyway. With that thought also came the sounds of a slammed iron doors, turning locks, deadbolts, two-way radios, and sirens, smells, swearing, and shouting. Prison! I snapped back to reality real quick. He was not worth that.

 

“…regretted it for always…it happened and I can’t change what has happened. I never meant to hurt you…” he was still talking and I was damn near nodding off to sleep.

 

Yes, he had hurt me. Having to continue to put up with him after the divorce was even more hurt, it was nothing short of abuse, mentally for allowing him to continuing to speak and physically because I wanted him dead, right now, right this minute. He was an assault on my senses that always left me exhausted. What happened to lazy afternoons? Will I ever be able to rest without his interrupting? Funny thing though, I was beginning to feel optimistic about the situation.

 

I tried to speed up his pity party because the smell of stale beer filled the room and added to my nauseous.

 

“I have to go.” he said at last.

 

I didn’t try to stop him; first to the door, first to the vehicle. Even held the car door open for him to make sure he got in.

 

“Be careful driving home.” I said, but that was not what was in my mind. My thoughts were that of an 18-wheeler involved with a head on collision, screeching tires, burning rubber, metal twisting, and gas tanks exploding.

 

Taylor drove away with a big smile on his face pleased with his performance as usual. He loved his game of life playing on the emotions of others. He popped the top on another brew, turned the CD player up loud and starting singing to the latest George Straight favorite song before he was twenty feet down the road.

 

Desperation took over as I watched him drive away. I had let him go long ago, never dwelled on our past but focused on my future. He seemed to be doing the opposite. He was right about one thing, what had happened, had happened. Now it was time to deal with it. Put an end to it. There was no freedom as long as he was free to roam the earth. Even if they locked me in a padded room eventually, he would someday visit and then they would give me shock treatment after he left.

 

I called work and Steve answered in a low quick voice, “Ambassador Caverns”

 

“Hey”

 

“Yea”

 

“You still know people, right?”

 

“Yea.”

 

"Good” I hung up the phone pleased with the vigilante decision I had just made. The end results would be the same, justice was justice, right?

 

I was able, at last, to take some comfort in my place of employment and its unusual job perks. I certainly didn't go to work to feel the warm fuzzes, I was lucky to escape with my life every day. Besides being pushed, pulled, conned, tested; I also had to adjust to the ever changing daily working environment. No reality show could come close to the reality that I walked into everyday. Then at the end of my shift I slithered out the door wearing the day’s a*s-kicked footprints home as a symbol of my loyalty. I told my dad where I worked, and then thought connection had been lost, there was dead silence. Assuring him it was a legal job with a real paycheck. He was not impressed. What happened to brotherly love, mutual respect, and a simple job description?

 

Crossing the room to the mirror that hung on the wall, I watched as images formed. He was making me age before my time. It felt like ten years tonight alone. I used to be comfortable with my looks but the mirror says different now, it never lied. The images that formed all looked at me as if they focused on something behind me, as if they could see around me. They looked carefully as though their stares would break me, then they said in unison, “He has to go, that is the only solution.”

 

"I agree with that, no arguments here." I replied.

 

They then danced, stomped around, did some cheers, clapped and whistling. Happiness filled the air. It was party time. Then, just like that, they were gone. Scattered like cockroaches during the bright light at nighttime, ran right through the walls that reflected inside the mirror.

 

I placed both hands on the mirror and cried, "Please, don't leave me here alone, take me!" It was too late they were gone. Placing my forehead gently against the mirror, there was only one thing on my mind. A mischievous devious smile crept across my face as I said to the mirror in a calm voice....

 

"Let the games begin."                         

Author's Note

I wrote this for a contest, it is suppose to be submitted two days ago, but that didn't happen so I added more to the story. I still have my grammar and tense issues, and I am still working on it. So any and all suggestions will be appreciated. I wrote this rather quickly because the deadline was that day, but WC gave me extra time...lol I think?

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

I got to say very dark and twisted... damn this may be fiction but it really explores just how some people can take hate so far and get lost in the dark side of life. Excellant read.

[Alias Fletcher]

Good to see you are writing again. The characters are well developed. A few places I felt confused, but it it all becomes clear in the end. Rework it a little; it is a great write, Love and Hugs, charly

[OutToLunch]

i liked your story! i'm very glad my computer decided to reject my internet long enough for your entry to be submitted. it was a well-written piece that i would have missed reading. good write!