When We Left Our Story Last Time…
I gaped open-mouthed at the television, dropping my spoon into the cereal can causing milk to splash on my lap. I was terrified again. I began to hyperventilate again. I was definitely not hungry anymore. I was a murderer. I…was…a…murderer. I was a murdering drunk!!! What am I going to do? Where can I go to get away from this? Maybe I should turn myself in. Right. How can I do that?
And Now For Today’s Story:(This one is a bit longer)
I was still staring at the television in paralytic shock, thousands of fleeting thoughts going through my numbed brain. I was unable to move until the phone rang jolting me out my stupor and causing me to scream again. I tried to calm down, letting the phone ring until the answering machine picked it up. The answering machine never did pick up.
The phone continued to ring. And ring. And ring. Finally, I joked with myself, “Maybe it’s the dead guy letting me off of the hook.” I picked up the receiver from its cradle and hoarsely whispered “Hello?” There was no answer from the other end. “Hello?” I inquired again. This time I was rewarded with the hiss of a computer trying to sell me vinyl siding. “Damn salespeople” I muttered and hung up the phone.
I sat looking at but not seeing the television and the phone rang again. “Boy siding sales must be down.” I said and picked up the receiver with “I don’t need any damn siding” on my tongue but was stopped short by a mournful wail from the other end. “Hello?” I said. Silence. “H…hello?” I stuttered. “Who is this? Hello? Hello?” No answer. The only sound from the other side was a ghostly breathing. I slammed the phone back onto the cradle. Damn prank callers.
I half-heartedly looked back to my all but forgotten cereal and picked up the spoon when the phone rang for a third time. “Good grief” I thought not for the first time. and picked up the receiver nearly shouting “Leave me the Hell alone!” Someone began to laugh menacingly on the other end. My mouth went dry. “What?” I inquired. More laughing followed by some barely distinguishable muttering, “Good. You should fear me.” This all in a ghostly echo of a voice. “Wha…” I began and was cut off by, “You, yoooooouuuuuuu killlllled meeeee!!! YOU KILLED ME!!!” I screamed like an idiot, threw the phone to the floor along with my cereal and ran back up the stairs to my bedroom and the juvenile comfort of my bed and blankets.
Sometime later that evening I awoke again and extracted myself from the bed. I realized that I had just been dreaming again, the after effects of the alcohol working its way out of my system. I used the bathroom again and went downstairs. I then knew that it was no dream. The television was still on, the phone was laying on the floor, and a bowl of cereal upside down next to my chair. I felt sick again. The phone calls had to come from a prank caller didn’t they? Could they have possibly come from….a witness? I nearly passed out at that thought. I was almost convinced that the accident had no onlookers but, I was drunk. There could have been someone. In a house maybe? Neighborhood watch? This is getting too much.
I turned off the television, hung up the phone and began to clean up the spilled cereal. I felt guilty again. I didn’t know how much longer I could take the guilt. I had to do something. I needed to tell someone. I needed to turn myself in. No, not that. Not yet. I needed to tell someone and have them say that it was alright, only an unfortunate accident. How could I go up and say to someone, “Hey guess what? I killed somebody with my car!” Of course I couldn’t. Not unless that someone was the police. The realization was strong now. I had killed someone. The police were after me and I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were going to break down my door at any minute. How much more horrible can this be?
I began to tremble. I was still at it ten minutes later when the phone rang again. I wasn’t going to answer. Let the machine get it. But the thing kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing. The machine never picked up. The phone continued to ring. Ten times. Eleven times. Twelve times. I picked up on the thirteenth ring, my fingers numb with fear.
“Hello?” I asked praying that it was a bill collector. “You…you worthless drunk…you maniac…you murdering bastard.” came over the line in a voice I had been replaying in my head for hours. “You bastard! YOU KILLED ME!! You! My murderer! You! My executioner! I will be with you…your eternity is mine…you killed me…your death awaits…your soul is stained with mine…fear my wrath…” taunted the voice as the line went dead. I began trembling again with earnest. I was shaking so bad that I could barely get the phone back into the cradle. I cursed and ran towards the sink as I vomited what little I had left in my stomach.
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The Rest Of The Story:
Part 1 Starts Here!
Part 2 Continues Here!
Part 3 Is Here!
Part 4 right here!
Part 6 Right Here!