Short story (fiction)

Here is the fictional short story I wrote for my English Composition class (Narrative Storytelling) in Summer '08. The instructor commented that I had the highest marks in the class! Wow! Not too bad for someone who is not a writer or English major!

Final Draft

8/5/08

Red Button

“We just thought you should know that we think you have the qualifications needed, but decided to go with someone else. And to be quite honest, we weren’t so impressed with what you wore to the interview. This position has to do with the company’s image since greeting clients is a big detail, and sorry to say, but…the first impression you gave us on appearance wasn’t great.” The woman’s voice got perkier, “But we wish you the best and thought we should let you know for the future, so you don’t make the same mistake at other interviews.” Holding my breath, I said, “Okay. Thanks.” and clicked the red button on my cell phone, plopped on my couch, and exhaled while dropping my phone on the floor.

My arms dangled through my open legs while I leaned forward in disappointment and shock. From the sun rays shooting through the crooked blinds, I stared for a minute at the particles of dust drifting about like glitter in slow motion. I could smell the dust, but couldn’t feel my body for a moment as the embarrassment and shame hit my brain cells like an explosion. Too still to even shed a tear, hunger started to weave through my body as if eating would be my medicine.

Slowly moving to the kitchen, I opened the heavy freezer door and the chill felt great in our hot, dirty, and dry apartment. I took out my favorite chilled and icy Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and set it down on the beige Formica counter on top of various crumbs, glass rim stains, and junk mail still sitting there from a month or so ago. As I got a spoon from a drawer, I noticed my hangnails as if they were magnified a hundred times. Back on the stained cloth couch I switched to lie on my side, and could feel my tummy cellulite flopping down. I flipped on the dust covered TV and stayed there, while eating my Chunky Monkey ice cream and felt a bit soothed by the taste of chilled bananas. I didn’t want to think about it all.

I heard large footsteps, the screen door open, and keys clanking in front of our L.A. city apartment. Jeremy was rough with the door as usual, slammed it behind him and puffed his way passed me, “Hey.” Throwing his jacket over a wooden chair in his path, he didn’t even look at me on his way to the bedroom. He came out and went straight towards the fridge for a beer. Plopping his six-foot-two self on the worn recliner, he gazed at the TV, “Anything yet?” Under my breath, “Nope.” As usual, he avoided looking at me while his eyes were fixed on something else. We sat in silence as the Entertainment show host talked about the daily gossip in celebrities’ lives. I liked to get fixated on those shows and was drawn in as a fantasy world. I guess those women represented something I’d never have, so only lived vicariously through them.

Jeremy peered at the empty ice cream container and gave me a look of disappointment. My stomach felt ill from his laser beam brown eyes. I could smell his perspiration from where I was. “Karen, I can’t keep on buyin’ you these groceries and stuff if you’re not going to work!” His black long sleeve shirt covered the tears in his blue jeans. I rebutted, “But I’m trying really hard. You know that I am.” Rolling his eyes, “Yeah, whatever. Just get one. SOON.” The recliner swiveled and rocked out of control as he walked to the kitchen, crushed can in hand, and chucked it into the garbage. The commercials were over, so looked back at the TV to watch news on my favorite actress, while I heard the bathroom door slam. I sat up, pushed myself off the couch and threw away the carton evidence.

I peered out the front window and wiped the sweat off my forehead as the sun was setting. My mind was going too fast with negative thoughts, so my eyes got teary. The light from the street and fading sun were peering in the blinds, showed up as bars across my brown t-shirt. The sun set in an orange glow from the massive smog beyond the neighboring worn and dated seventies apartment building rooftops. Somehow, the silhouettes of poles, phone lines, and birds made it an oddly pretty picture.

My cell phone rang. I stumbled for it and realized it was on the floor. “Hi Honey,” my mom said. She liked to call a lot, hoping we’d get closer. “Hey.” I was reluctant to tell her that her advice for business attire was not in good fashion sense. “Yeah, I’m okay,” after she questioned my tone. Not in the mood to continue and talk, I got off the phone, “I have to go. Jeremy is calling me.” I pressed the red button.

I caught myself looking directly in the small hallway mirror on the plain Eggshell White painted wall, as I brushed by the recliner. I stopped and stared at my face, in my eyes. ‘What am I doing? What am I thinking? Where am I going? How is this all happening? Why am I here? Do I really exist? Must I stay here in this miserable place? This misery? Am I loved? Do I love? What do I want? What do I really, really, really want? Do I even like who I am? How could I let myself get this way? Who am I?’ It was all too much to take. I just wanted to sleep.

I crawled into bed, where Jeremy was curled up on his side towards the wall. My mind was going on and on, so couldn’t sleep. I could have used some comforting and so put my arm around his soft hairless bare upper body and scooted in to spoon and cuddle. He just laid there without any response, but I didn’t care. His warm body satisfied my loneliness.

In the middle of the night, he got up to use the bathroom and woke me up by moving my arm and abruptly wobbling the bed, so in a barely awake scratchy voice I said, “Hey, stop it. You woke me up.” In a brash tone he said, “I don’t give a shit at this point. Look at you anyhow. No job, no life, no goals, and…fat. You weren’t like this three years ago. You’re always whining. You’re looking to me for EVERYTHING. I can’t do it for both of us. I’ve seriously had it. I can’t even stand your body against mine right now. I’m sleeping on the couch.” He grabbed his pillow and a blanket and left the room. Too tired, and figuring it may be a dream, I crashed back to sleep.

The gardeners were extra loud in the morning. Their blowers and gas machines were blaring and high pitched, while I could hear rapid shouting in Spanish. Another thing I couldn’t comprehend. Little ticky-tacky noises were coming off the window as particles of weeds, pebbles, and grass were hitting it. I sat up to slam the window all the way and inhaled a bit of the gas fumes they left seconds ago. The drapes were glowing as the sun was coming up outside. I heard Jeremy’s footsteps on the wood floors in the living room as he shuffled to get ready for work. I stumbled out of bed, still wearing the t-shirt and sweats from last night, and headed to the bathroom. I said “Hi” to him and smiled as much as possible for being this tired. With a sarcastic frown, he said, “You don’t even remember. Think about it.” He turned and left the apartment, slamming the screen door behind him.

Trying to snap out of my slumber, I wiped the steam from the vanity mirror, rubbed my eyes, and looked at my face. The puffy bags and lines around my eyes and dripping mascara stains running vertically down my face reminded me. I sat on the toilet and began to cry in my dry, chunky, hands, and tasted my salty tears. Peering through my fingers, my belly bounced as I cried hard and loud and took deep breaths. I was sorry about myself. ‘Where will I go? What will I do? Who can I turn to?’ I had a flashback about being a lonely child, wanting to curl up and cry on my bed.

I impulsively stood up to get my cell phone and dialed my mom’s number. It was 8:36AM, but thought she might be up. Still choked up with a wet face, I stumbled, “Mom, Hi.” She could hear it in my voice and waited for me to continue, “Jeremy doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I don’t have a job. I’m fat and pathetic. How did I get like this?” In a soothing and sad voice, she said, “Honey, listen to me. You ARE NOT pathetic. Everything else will be handled fine. It’s all going to be okay. I’m coming over. You stay right there.” I sniffed the glob of mucus coming out my nose and said, “Okay. Thanks. I love you.” With a voice of strength, she replied, “And I love YOU. See you shortly.” I pressed the red button.

I rested on the bed waiting for her. I felt warm inside knowing I was loved, not entirely alone, and that she was coming to support me. About thirty minutes later, I answered the door for my mom to come in and we hugged. She grabbed my face and said, “Look at me. You are beautiful, smart, kind, and have just had some slip-ups. Everyone does. You’ll get through this fine.” She sat me down at the small round wooden table and prepared us breakfast with the last eggs and bread remaining. She told me to take a shower and get refreshed in the meantime. We ate at the table, freshly cleaned off by her, and drank water from the tap – since there wasn’t any juice or coffee. “Sweetheart, it’s time you take control of your life again. I don’t know what happened to you when you met this boy, Jeremy, but he took a hold of you and I couldn’t step in since you didn’t ever listen. The time has come for you to regain your strength. We…you and I, are going to get you out of this place and improve your life. You will come and stay with me until you get back on your feet again. We can join a fitness plan together…and…”

Somehow, some way, I snapped out of my relationship coma and interrupted, “Wait! Slow down. This is all too much too fast.” Sigh, “I need to figure this out on my own. I’m an adult.” She looked puzzled to hear that coming from my mouth, but somehow a little entitlement came over me. I said “Wait…,” and picked up my cell phone to call Jeremy. Knowing it was me, he answered, “What? I’m at work.” I said confidently and semi-sarcastically, “Yes. I know you’re at work. Just want to let you know that I’m leaving you and this filthy apartment. You can keep the kitchen stuff and furniture, but I’m taking the electronics.” Abruptly and loudly, he said, “No you ar….” Click. I hit the red button.

My mom looked at me proudly, with a surprised smirk on her face. Her eyes were sparkling and she was looking the best she ever had. She’d lost 100 pounds and had been keeping healthy. I needed to stick by her and let go of my pride to think I could do it all on my own. I said happily, “Let’s do this!” We scrambled to pack my things and left before he returned from work. I kept my key copies just in case I forgot something or had to pick up mail. And to think…I held the keys the whole time, yet didn’t use them to lock the door behind me. I didn’t know how all of this came over me and how it all happened so fast. I really felt like I woke up from a long slumber. The screen door slammed behind me and the sun was shining with a blue sky. Leaving, I was still fat and unemployed, but I felt refreshed and good. I knew my answers would come. I needed to find me first.

We arrived at mom’s floral scented suburban, quiet home and unloaded. I stored most of my things in her garage. It felt wonderful to be in a tidy, clean, and orderly environment. Not a streak on the windows or mirrors. Not a stain on the carpet or furniture. She kept runners on the carpet, a spotless kitchen and tile floors, with immaculate décor. I remembered when she used to be a lot sloppier, but with the body transformation, her environment improved also. I gave her a huge long hug and thanked her with my eyes and tender smile. She kissed my cheek and said, “You’re on to new beginnings. Now that you will listen, I can help you.” I nodded my head in humbleness. Exhausted, I took a nap in the guest room before dinner.

My cell phone woke me up. I stumbled, with my smashed face and saliva on the pillow, looked through my bleached blonde wavy hair and saw it was Jeremy. My mom yelled from down the hall, “If it’s him, don’t answer it.” I did anyhow since it’s so automatic for me to. He said, “What’s going on? Where are you?” I could hear in his voice that he was mad and confused, though sad and trying to hold back. Keeping my composure and with my mom peeking in and making me stronger, I said, “I’m done. I’m moving on. And from what you said last night, you know it’s best for both of us.” He replied, “Fine.” I said “Goodbye!” and pressed the red button slowly. I glanced at my mom and she smiled and nodded in agreement, arms crossed and standing firmly. I was trembling a bit, but relieved at the same time. I knew it was the right thing to do. I thought, ‘Why didn’t I do this sooner?’

Mom made the best home cooked meal I’ve tasted since I could remember. I could smell my favorites from down the hall…chicken and vegetable stir-fry in a wok, salad with lots of fresh vegetables and crispy croutons, with brown rice. I went into the kitchen and gave her a big hug. I savored the cozy feeling. She smelled like sweet perfume and her dark brown layered long hair was felt by my hands as I rubbed her back in thanks. Until dinner was ready, I walked on her treadmill in front of the television and watched cable channels I hadn’t explored before. The walking worked up a sweat quickly. But I wanted to stay determined to get healthy any way I could and to figure out where to go with my life and what to do.

Dinner was great and we decided to take a walk outside in the warm beautiful summer night, with twinkling stars and shining full moon. I could smell the jasmine, trees and blossoming plants we passed by. I told her that I would plan on pounding the pavement slowly, but surely, for my life. I would find the right job, go to school, get healthy, and concentrate on ME. She nodded in agreement and put her arm around me. Right then, I realized that it actually can be true… ‘Mom knows best!’

My cell phone rang, so I pulled it out of my jacket pocket. I could see that it was him again. I just pressed the red button and smiled.