Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

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Re: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby JNicole » Fri Jan 28, 2011 6:08 am

Through the maze of a thunderous rain storm, the inability to get comfortable on an 8 year old mattress and unfounded anxiety, sleep would not find Regina Dean on the eve of her 26th birthday. She lay on her side starring at the small alarm clock by her bed, the numbers in neon green stared back at her, the only company she kept on an evening when the twisting in her stomach warned her that something on this hellish night was rotten. The green lines on the clock flickered signaling the movement of time from one day into the next. Midnight. Rain beat the large window desperate to get inside. A shrill ring from the telephone exploded into the room. Regina shot up, jerking the phone to her ear before it could complete its first ring. Finally, the news, of which, she had no knowledge, but that the ominous night had foretold was surely coming.

“Hello?” Regina spoke in a cracked whisper.

“They found her…they found her.” The voice on the other end of the phone gushed the news in a voice drenched in the disappointment of life.

Regina uttered a single cry that ripped through the thunder of the night and echoed off of every wall in the lonely room.

Almost ten years had passed since Regina had heard the raspy voice on the other end of the line, but there was as little need to inquire about the identity of the person on phone as there was to inquire about “who” had been found.

Nikki Weston was calling to tell her that Lola Rusher had been found.

10 years before, Regina Dean, Nikki Weston, Lola Rusher and Natalie Valentine were best friends, soul mates, almost sisters until the day Lola Rusher vanished. The disappearance of Lola Rusher devastated the, once vibrant, town of Black Water Hill. Finger pointing, accusing eyes and unrelenting suspicion launched everyone into a battle so fierce that it incinerated the town, reducing it to a fiery, useless, ruble of whispered resentments, harbored hatreds and broken families.

“They found her body in Black Water Lake.” Nikki told her.

“Black Water Lake?” Regina questioned. Silence hung, unmoving, in the air.

“Her family is having a funeral. Everyone is going crazy here. You have to come back Regina…please, you have to come back.” Nikki pleaded with the girl who was once her best friend, whom she now barely knew.

Regina knew that she had to go back. That bitch destiny was setting into motion a chain of events that would lead her back to the place she came from and either free her forever from the chains of the history in Black Water Hill…or bury her there.

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RE: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby sns3guppy » Fri Jan 28, 2011 7:29 am

When the phone rang, a gunshot would have been less intrusive. I was in a parallel universe, unconscious, but having the time of my life. It may have been sexual, or it may have been climbing the worlds tallest mountain. I'll never know: the unrelenting ringing clawed the dream from my brain much like a fan blowing away clouds. I vainly strained for them with that running-in-molasses feeling I got when chased in my sleep. I raised my head off my pillow, the most supreme effort I could muster, blinded by the red digital display of my alarm clock at three in the blessed AM.

I fumbled for the phone, knocking off the receiver. It clattered to the floor, that place where evil clowns live under beds in the dark, and dust mites lay in wait. I retrieved it, one curly bit of phone cord at a time, until I found myself talking into the earpiece, and listening with the receiver. Someone near my chin began blabbering, and as the fog lifted I righted the phone to hear what they had to say.

"Hello." I asked, more of a weak indictment than a greeting.

"Didn't you hear me? Didn't you listen to what I just said?" A voice exclaimed excitedly.

"No." I replied, too confused to ask what was said.

"I need help. I mean, they need help! I think she's dead!" The voice ran on. I knew that voice. She sounded familiar.

"Who's dead? What help? Who is this?" I sat up, swung my feet to the carpet, and probably killed a thousand dust mites as my head spun. I knocked over a sealed water bottle and clumsily found the bedside light switch.

"The woman that the man was chasing, that's who!" The voice yelled at me, nearly hysterical. "Are you sending help, or what?"

"What help? Who is this?" I asked. I knew that voice. "Identify yourself."

"Sally Trapper." She said. Of course! Sally. My old best friend. The one who never calls unless she wants something or just broke up with somebody. The party girl, herself.

"Sally? This is Donna." I said. "Who's dead, and what's going on?"

"Donna?" She asked, clearly taken back. "I thought I dialed 911. I must have hit your speed dial by mistake!"

"Never mind that, Sally. What's this about help? Who's in trouble?" I asked her, cutting to the chase. She might be melodramatic at times, but I heard the fear in her voice. "Are you in any danger?"

"No." She said. "At least, I don't think so. I'm on Fifth West, by Sharp's Club, you know the one?" I knew it. "Some girl, I don't know her, got into it with two guys who were fighting. They took it out on her, and she's laying here in an alley, bleeding."

"Sally, are those guys still around?" I asked, now concerned for her, too.

"I don't think so. They're long gone. No, wait!" Sally whispered. I heard the shuffle of metal can scraping cement, and imagined her sliding behind a dumpster to conceal herself. "They're back and one of them has a something in his hand! Donna, I'm scared!" Sally began to cry.

"Sally, be quiet. They'll hear you. You stay hidden. I'm calling the police, and I'm coming down there!" I told her, reaching for my cell phone.

"Donna, don't leave me, don't get off the line. I can't be alone right now!" I knew her fear. She sounded like I used to feel when my father came home drunk to find me alone.

My hands shook as I dialed 911 and rattled off what little bit I knew. I kept both phones to my ear, and as the dispatcher paused to make the radio call to a faceless patrol car somewhere out there in the dark, I heard Sally begin to scream. It was unearthly, distant, and then her phone clattered on the cement. She gurgled, sounded strangled. I pleaded with the dispatcher to hurry, please, hurry. Sally's phone went dead, crackling as though crushed under foot.

Sally only called when she was really in trouble. I unclenched my hands, exhaled slowly. Fear, stress, pain, loss. It was dad, all over again. I needed change, different friends. "Wait a minute." I thought to myself. "Lemons to lemonade!" I smiled, relieved, relaxed. "Problem solved!" I removed Sally from my caller ID, and went back to bed.
Last edited by sns3guppy on Sat Jul 23, 2011 2:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby Mz. SoulKitten » Sat Mar 19, 2011 8:01 am

@ 2am, sleep has finally worked it's magic on me as I sit on the couch flicking from informercial to informercial. "Thank God" I say to myself as I press the red button on the remote and head for my bedroom.

"Awwww", I say to myself as I submerge my face into the smell of Tide Laundry Detergent that lingers on my pillowcase. Half-way into deep unconscienceness, the sound of the loud cordless phone that sits on my headboard disturbs me. I answered it with an infuriated voice:
"He-hello. Hey girl".
"Who the hell is this?"
"Caroline. Remember me? Caroline from the Binson's High-Risings?"
Scratching the back of my head,
"Oh, yeah. I remember. Caroline with the gay husband, yeah. What's going on? Wait, how did you get my number?"
"Girl, I'm going thru a crisis! I need somebody to talk to. I was fumbling through the white pages and came across your name and number."
"Oh, okay. That gives me the idea to call AT&T first thing in the morning to tell them to UNLIST me. Anyway, it's been a while since we've seen each other. Hell, I ain't forgot about that 10 dollars you and that faggot you call a husband ran off with.
"Oh my God, girl you know I've been aware of my husband's homosexuality for quite some time. But I had a doctor's appt. today and I found out that....I have full blown AIDS. I havent been with anybody but him"
"So what the hell are you calling me for?"
"I thought maybe I could..."
"Naw, damn that! Where in the hell is my 10 dollars!"

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Re: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby Pearl96 » Tue Mar 29, 2011 10:09 pm

I stared down at my mobile's flashing screen; dreading pressing the innocent green button to pick up. Given into the urge to silence the insistent ringing, I pressed down on the button and lifted the phone to my ear.

“Hello,” I said, looking over the top of my mossy green couch to stare at the clock hanging above my stove. Living in a small apartment made everything conveniently in reach; for both your hands and sensitive shins. “You do realise it’s currently a quarter to twelve on a Wednesday night, right?”

“Really?” The voice on the line sounded breathless and female. “How time gets away from you, huh?”

“Who is this?” I asked warily, sitting up straighter on my couch and tucking my legs underneath me. “Why are you calling?”

“Of course, how silly of me,” the woman said quickly, laughter catching in her throat as she fought to get her breathing back under control. “Expecting you to remember me after… almost ten years now; wow, time really does get away doesn’t it?”

“Who are you?” I repeated sternly, looking over my shoulder at my apartment’s door. I squinted my eyes, as if it would allow me to see if there was anyone on the other side of the stained wood. “I’m about to hang up,” I warned her, turning now to look out of my window into the inky night sky. I’d said goodbye to the brilliant sight of twinkling stars when I had moved from my family home in the country to the hustle and opportunity of the city.

“No wait!” the woman yelled, making me cringe away from my phone. “It’s Hannah from teacher’s college. Red hair – well back to brown now, what was I thinking – but red then, too many freckles… I brought my cat to class once!”

“Hannah…?” I responded slowly, rubbing at my forehead to sooth my aching brain. I did remember her, she was hard to forget, but it was too late at night for me to appreciate I was talking to someone I thought I’d never hear from again. “Why are you-”

“You’re going to die!”

“…Excuse me?”

“I went to a psychic today, and she said a friend from my educational past was going to die tomorrow,” Hannah explained hurriedly, her words blurring together in her hast. “So I’ve been calling everyone I was friends with since prep, I’m so glad this is still your number, it means I’ve finally warned everyone.”

“Thank-you for worrying about me-” Last, I thought bitterly, always last, “- but I assure you I am perfectly fine.”


“Goodnight Hannah.”

I flipped my phone shut and dragged myself to bed with a tired groan. That night, as my apartment block burned down around me, I didn’t even wake up.


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