A Vague Plague

A piece of example on how women can be just as detrimental to men.

2^nd October, 1958

 

Don’t lose control.

Don’t lose control!

Remember what happened.

Remember it all and don’t lose control.

Oh, and don’t forget her...

Yes, remember...

Her...

Remember...

The telephone rings broke open the silence with its sharp tone and shattering hymn, stringing him back to actuality and chasing away the sureness of unconsciousness.

The air that filled corner to corner of his room suddenly seemed as alive as he seemed dead. And it rushed towards him in a bundled mass, to which he gulped down stiffly; tasting the dread and regret of the ‘few’ drinks he had that night.

He couldn’t quite correctly arrange the jumbled set of words he kept running through his tongue, as he had a fading sense of where his mind had been for the past three hours.

Remember what?

The rent?

His hand slithers instinctively into the cold; breaking free from under his blanket of sheets and reaching aimlessly for the noise, with intent of two simple words to do the trick.

But before he could enunciate the first letter (F), a soft-spoken voice on the other end of the wire empties itself first.

‘Benny… Don’t hang up, please.’

Benny…

Who calls me by that anymore?

It did so initially into his ears… and then as if it held an unknown weapon, struck his mind with disorienting power. His hands shook but it was incapable of hanging the phone up, and for the sole reason that he was too overwhelmed with recognition and beaming red headlights.

‘I heard your breath stop, so you must be there. And therefore, you must know it’s me. I beg of you, Benny, please listen to me. I know how wrong I was when I left you. Oh, how stupid I was to let myself go after money rather than love. Please, Benny… I’m in hell over you and all of this isn’t worth anything anymore. I need you, Benny. I need only you… please Benny.’

Benny…

Benny…

So many Benny’s.

She’s using my name again, but is she meaning for me?

She’s using my name again...

She needs me.

How dare she.

His teeth clenched and ached, while he spun with a suffocating feeling of déjà-vu. He was clueless about whether he was still in a dream

(nightmare)

conjuring it out of his thoughts, or hallucinating tentatively; which would not have been a surprise. Not even a slight.

But he was now lost in time. And once again lost in her vocal charm. He found he could not un-hear what he had just heard, or even un-think what he had just thought.

It’s all gonna be okay, Benny. Just remember what she did.

But, what did she do exactly?

‘What do you want?’ He demands timidly, abiding to his intuition like a child.

He looks around his room half expecting to discover she had been in the corner the whole time, readily anticipating his reply. While he also half expected to be jumped by some other force; possibly one that tried to ply him away from his re-sparked connection.

‘Please Benny, you have to know I still love you. You have to know that I never stopped thinking about you… ever.’

(Pop)

She still loves me

(Pop)

She never stopped thinking about me

(Pop) (Pop)

But to him, her verbal presence was enough to slowly screen her intentions and his past insight into her. His nerves now danced around on the tip of his tongue so he was unable to manage another word, and she sensed it. She thrived in it.

‘And he beats me, Benny. I thought he loved me so much, but… he comes home drunk and beats me.’ She adds a stifled cry, knowing that, that always made his heart melt in her palms.

‘I know you would never do that to me, so that’s truly why I’ve come back. I was stupid… too stupid for you. So I’ll understand if you hang up on me, Benny. But I hope you don’t.’

The words that poured through the phone’s receiving end were stutter-free, full of Her and resembling words that seemed to have been rehearsed over and over again… as if to a point of perfection.

Heat rushes to his fists and there’s a sudden explosion of pain. The abrupt outburst brings him back to himself, and he realizes the damage he has done by the mark of a dust filled hole, where his hands entered the wall to his left and now retracts unknowingly; crumpling innocently to his sides.

And in the midst of it all, his dad opted to join in as well: If ya know what’sa good for ya Benny boy, you’da slam that piece of junka down this instant.

But then again, whoever listened to their father?

‘I only want to see

(trap)

‘you one more time, Benny. I’ve been contemplating this moment for such a long time, you see.’ There was a slight pause as she felt the withdrawal of his breath from the telephone, but it lasted only a split second before she continued her pleading again.

‘You know what; mostly I was hoping you’d just give me a chance to apologize to you face-to-face. I’ve missed you a lot, Benny.’

And it was soft at first, but then it seemed to vibrate off the inner walls inside his ear, as it travelled deeper and deeper, driving through his veins for his heart - like she herself also would. And hidden beneath his scepticism he knew that too.

            (Pop) (Pop)

            He touched her

            (Pop) (Pop) (Pop)

I’ve missed you so much, too

            (Pop)

            He’s beat her

            (Pop) (Pop)

He could hear pops, and it was intense enough for him to feel as well. But what he didn’t know was that the popping he could strongly hear and feel; were physical parts of his psychological wall disappearing. It was the sound of air rushing together to fill in the empty spaces that she was breaking through. Whatever was in him that could have held her back from entering again; was now vanishing with those seemingly inevitable pops.

The sound was floating above him now, while he sank further into her unfathomable propaganda. Nothing from her was going to be left naked and uncovered to him. Not even her insincere solicit of his trust.

She was recapturing him into her void, once more.

(Pop)

The remaining caution he had, he shoved aside, accepting her into him yet again.

‘Okay.’ He answers in a trance, and she replies to meet in the place they first met.

Upon her final goodbyes and the lifeless tone of the phone after her departure, he already saw himself awaiting her at Nick’s Café; hiding his eagerness so she wouldn’t end him too fast…

            (Pop)

The over crowdedness of this s****y 4-star café was something she always liked. So I guess she mustn’t have changed much over these years.

(Pop)

Her lack of care for time was something that usually gets to me. But sitting here, I’m just glad she’s finally coming back.

(Pop) (Pop)

The entrance door flies open and I can sense the closure of her company again.

 (Pop) (Pop)

As she approaches, I get a good glimpse of her since she left; but any distress she’s had over me is hidden from her face.

She hasn’t a bit.

(Pop) (Pop) (Pop)

A strong whiff of her perfume, accompanied by some captivating words from painted red lips, strikes me as hard as it did 7 years ago and…

I’m gone.

(Pop) (Pop) (Pop)

Wherever I may be soon, at least I’ll be with her.

I’ll be with Scarlett again.

(Pop) (Pop) (Pop) (Pop)

I belong to her and that’s the way I want it.

(Pop) (Pop) (Pop) (Pop) (Pop)

I am hers.

(Pop)

 

 

 

5^th October, 1958

 

From Los Angeles City News, October 5^th, 1958 (page 1)

 

WOMAN USES SELF-DEFENSE AND KILLS EX AFTER HE MURDERS HER HUSBAND

 

 

 

7^th October, 1958

 

From Los Angeles City News, October 7^th, 1958 (page 3)

 

WIDOW INHERITS BILLIONAIRE STATUS FROM LATE HUSBAND

 

 

 

23^rd April, 2003

 

From Los Angeles Times, April 23^rd, 2003 (page 1)

 

WIDOW CONFESSES SHE ‘TRICKED EX INTO MURDERING HUSBAND’ FOR INHERITANCE

Author's Note

My short story entry for an English assignment last year.
Inspired by Stephen King's 'It' and Frank Miller's 'Sin City'.