Facedown

Just... loneliness and confusion and choices and directions and being lost.

Facedown

I sit on the twin-sized mattress in the dimly lit room wearing the shirt with that smell, staring at the peeling, stained, floral wallpaper, and contemplate what to do with myself. The phone sits across the room, a silent menace to my mind. It would be so easy to step across the dusty floorboards, pick up the phone, and dial the number. Your number.

You.

I imagine your voice, the way your tone would change so quickly. I imagine your laugh, how it would mingle with the sound of the rain smattering against the small, single-paned window above me. I imagine you.

But I’m tired. So, I sit in the middle of my small room on my bare mattress, the phone on my right and a bottle of Valium on my left, and wonder what to do. It would be so easy to walk across the room to the rickety wooden bedside table and pick up the bottle and count out the number. 

I could sleep.

I stand and press a hand against the cool glass of the rain-flecked window. I remember how you were always lost. I didn’t mind. It meant that you always needed me.

I turn left. You don’t need me anymore.

I walk back across the room, lie facedown on the bare twin-sized mattress in your shirt that still smells like you, pills weighing me down, and contemplate what to do with myself.

I miss you.

You.

Author's Note

named for the 1975's song "facedown." Did I overdo the vagueness and repetition?

Reviews

[A.M Leone]

Hey this is a really interesting story. i like the uses of periods to stop your reader, making your sentences short. I think the vagueness is a little much, but not over bearing. this is a great story!

[Contessa]

Thank you! definitely appreciate your feedback :)