The Broken Date

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Jack's POV:

“Mark, is that you?”

Silence on the other end.

“Why do you sound so strange?”

“I'm really sorry,” the muffled voice repeated.

“Mark, where are you? I tried to call you and there was no answer.”

“Now I have no choice.” His voice was soft but threatening. He talked very slowly.

Was it a dream?

No.

I looked around the room. Everything was as it always had been. I felt my phone against my ear. It wasn't a dream.

I could feel the terror take over my entire body. My trembling hand began to pulse with pain. I realized I was squeezing the phone too tightly.

“Mark, what are you saying? Do you want to talk?”

Silence.

“Why do you sound weird? What do you mean you have no choice?”

Silence.

“It's me---Jack---remember? You can always talk to me, about anything. That's what you've always said. You've always said I'm the best listener in the world. So give me a chance, Mark. Let me listen. Let me know why you sound so strange, why you're trying to frighten me?”

I realized I was babbling now. The terror had taken over from my brain. My words were coming out in choked whispers. I didn't really hear what I was saying.

I just wanted a word from him. A soft word. A familiar word. A word to let me know that he was still Mark, still the boy I knew so well, still the boy I loved.

But there was only silence at the other end.

Then his voice repeated, this time forcefully, “I have no choice.”

I tried to plead with him, but my throat tightened. No sound came out.

I heard a soft click.

“Mark, no! Don't hang up!” I managed to say.

But the line was dead.

I sat listening to the silence, to the soft crackle of the empty line. His last words repeated in my ear until they formed an angry chant

“I have no choice. No choice. No choice.”

“He wants to kill me,” I told myself. “Mark wants to kill me because I saw him in that store.”

But that didn't make any sense.

No sense at all.

Mark loved me. I loved Mark.

It isn't Mark, I thought. It's someone else.

It's a stranger who wants to kill me.

That frightened thought cheered me.

Better to be frightened by a stranger than by the boy you loved.

I hurled the phone to the floor, suddenly realized the absurdity of my thoughts.

I'm going crazy, I thought. My brain is out of control.

I'm going crazy, I thought. That's why everyone always tells me I am. Sensible. Now I've got to prove that they're right. I've got to calm down. Be sensible. I've got to think.

Frowning, I picked up my phone.

I had an idea.

Time for a little detective work. Time to do a little checking. A little sensible thinking. A little sensible checking.

I fumbled around with my phone, and then searched through it for Tyler number. Tyler was Mark's best friend. And he was co-captain of the swim team.

I began to push Tyler's number.

Was it too late to call?

Who cared? My life had just been threatened and I was worrying about how late it was!

That's being a little too sensible, I told myself.

The phone rang twice and then was picked up.

“ 'Lo?”

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“Hi, it's Jack. How are you?”

“Jack? Aren't you out with Mark?”

“No. Well, I was. I mean, I wasn't feeling well so I came home early. Listen, Tyler, I---”

“I had to stay home and baby-sit Kimberly. Some thrill, huh?” Tyler said. “There wasn't anything on TV, and I had to play Candyland with her all night. Would you believe she's still awake?”

“What a bummer,” I said, impatient to get past the small talk. “I'm calling because. . .uh. . .I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Was Mark at swim practice this afternoon?” Please, please say yes, I thought.

“Yeah, he was,” Tyler said. “But he left early, I think.”

Oh, no, I thought. No, no, no, no.

“What do you mean you think?” I asked, holding on to every last shred of hope.

“Kimberly,shut up!” Tyler shouted. “Sorry,” he told her. “I don't know where she gets her energy. Maybe she's hyperactive or something. My luck, huh?”

“What do you mean you think Mark left early?” I repeated, unable to hide my impatience.

“Well, I didn't see him when I got dressed after practice,” Tyler said. “I mean, he wasn't in the locker room. So I guess he left early. Hey, are you two having trouble, or something?”

“No. No trouble,” I said, my voice a whisper. “Thanks, Tyler. Bye.” I hung up quickly.

No trouble.

No trouble at all.

Mark had lied to me about staying late at the swim practice. He had left early, had gone to the mall, had held up a jewelry store, had killed the owner.

No trouble. Thanks, Tyler. Thanks, Mark.

I didn't feel like being sensible anymore.

I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over my head. I wanted to hide, to disappears in the darkness, silent and alone. . .forever.

Word count: 877. I might publish chapter 7 but no promises..