Monday, April 13, 2009

Heart Beats, Soul Stirs | Fiction

. . .FAME, I'm gonna live forever, I'm gonna learn how to fly FAME. . .

The song echoed in her mind as she sat down in front of the camera, as he pushed the record button.

He asked her The Question, "So what are you thinking?"

She didn't know how to respond, so she fidgeted, got flustered.

He asked her another question, "Do you really want to do this?"

She shook her head and mumbled a weak, "yeah". The word had no staying power, no passion behind it. But she could still hear the theme song from FAME in her head. She knew this was right even if she was scared enough to shit her pants.

She was also hearing something else below the FAME theme song. She was hearing her heart beat, her soul stir. "Yeah", she said, louder, stronger, more assured, "I really want to do this."

"You really want to know what I'm thinking? REALLY? I'm thinking you're an ass and no I'm not having your baby. I've already scheduled the appointment for an abortion. Oh and thanks for the Chlamydia. I gave it back to you right before I started my medication. The only thing you have left in the house is the camera recording this, as soon as you come out of shock, turn it off, pack it up and walk out the door."

She stood up, brushing past him and went into the bedroom, closing and locking the door. She knew he could kick it down if he really wanted. She hoped he didn't really want to.

She heard the soft, pouophh of the closing of the apartment door. Was he really gone? Did she dare step out of the room? Dammit she really hated wall to wall carpeting. Next week it was all getting ripped out, just like this child inside her tomorrow.

She had done it again, referred to it as a child. She wondered if she was getting cold feet. Wondered if maybe she really wanted to have a child, raise a child, love a child. Oh yeah they grow up. A child wasn't like the baby dolls she got when she was young. No, they grow up. You have to be responsible. You can't just leave them at your friends house. Plus they cry, a lot, all night sometimes. And if she kept it, HE would be around. He would be back and she never wanted to see him again.

After, waiting in the room for what seemed like hours, she slowly, carefully opened the bedroom door. She didn't see him, couldn't see him, all the lights were off. The glow from the full moon only partially illuminated the space. He could be hiding around any corner though, so she moved cautiously towards the light switch on the far wall.

Making it across the room and touching the cold plaster wall, she caught a reflection of the moon in the leaded glass vase to her right. It shimmered. She shivered and touched the switch.

The room was now bathed in soft flattering light when she noticed the DVD case on the console.

He left. He left her. She told him to leave and he left.

She thought about the door and ran towards it, to secure the slide bolt and engage the locks. The locksmith only changed one lock and hoped it was enough.

"Should I watch the DVD?", she questioned the empty apartment, padding towards the living room. "Yeah," she said again with conviction.

She grabbed the jewel case and located the remote. After pressing all the required buttons, she saw herself, heard her voice.

"God why didn't I put on any makeup? I look like a drug addict, dark circles under my eyes, sunken cheeks," she said to an empty room. No one answered. She was alone and the theme from FAME still echoed in her head along with her heartbeat.

Maybe, just maybe she'd finally hear her heart song.

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