uncontrollable (completed)

personal stuff

I shot up in my bed, a scream tearing its way out my throat. I clutched at my arms, trying to rip away restraints that weren't there. My breathing was shallow, and quickly deteriorating into hyperventilation. A bead of sweat ran down my neck, but I shivered, feeling cold in the cozy apartment. "It's over." I reminded myself. "You're not there anymore."

But the sounds of Noah's screams were fresh in my memory, and I wanted to break down all over again. Noah, with his stupid smoking habit and messy hair. Noah, with his blue, blue eyes and penchant for fast cars. Noah, who kissed me under the stars and listened to pretentious music. Noah, buried six feet under ground, never to be seen again. Noah. Dead.

My throat hurt with the soreness of suppressed sobs, and I tried to stop breathing, because maybe that would keep me from crying. I was sweating like I was in a burning room, but I felt cold. My lungs felt like they were burning, too, as I tried to breathe. It was like they were being crushed as I struggled to gasp in the air, heaving.

Eventually, I couldn't handle it any more. A tear slid down my cheek, marking the beginning of what I desperately wanted to avoid. I put my hands up to stop the flood, and felt ashamed when my fingers came away wet. I took a deep breath and tried to hold it, but a small sound escaped.

My phone buzzed from across the room, and I rose on wobbly legs to check it, praying it didn't turn out to be a phone call, because the only thing keeping my sobs from escaping were my sweater sleeves pressed tight against my mouth.

It was only a text, from Eliza, telling me that she stayed over at her boyfriend's flat. Good, I didn't want to wake her up two nights in a row.

I bit my lip, effectively stopping the sobs from escaping, but not for long. Then the bottled breath exploded from my lungs with a choking sound, and I was crying senselessly. I hated that I remembered every waking moment from those days, and hated even more that I remembered Noah's screams in vivid details. I hated that those screams were the last sounds I ever heard from his beautiful mouth.

Violent sobs wracked my body for the better part of an hour, and by the time I managed to stop crying and rid my consciousness of memories involving screaming and blood, I was exhausted. I managed to stay up for long enough to eat a bowl of cereal and a clementine, before I crawled back into bed and hoped that this time, my sleep would be dreamless.

It was.

When I awoke, around noon, I felt much better. I got dressed, aiming too look nicer than I did yesterday by wearing a skirt for once. I still wore a giant sweater though, which kind of defeated the purpose of the skirt. Whatever. The streets were busy as usual, the occasional pack of tourists wandering through, wide eyed and open mouthed. I remember being like that when I first got here.

When I first moved to London, I had to call Phil nearly every fifteen minutes, asking for help. How do you use the oyster cards? Where do you get a map of the underground? How does the underground even work? Do they have convenience stores in England? Eventually, Phil just promised to hang out with me for a few days and show me the ropes because I was calling him so often.

Today, I'd need to call Phil at some point so he knew my new Phone number, after I got it switched. The phone company store was unusually quiet when I got there, normally there was some sort of queue for the newest iphone. Today however, it was mostly empty, only a Middle aged mum with her son, presumably getting him his first phone.

"How can I help you?" A plump, blonde woman asked as she walked up to me, looking extremely cheery. She put me at ease immediately for some reason, and I felt a little bit better about why I was here.

"I'd like to get my phone number changed," I requested. "Somebody who shouldn't have my number keeps texting me."

"Well," The blonde woman thought, a red painted fingernail tapping against her chin. "You could always block the number, there isn't necessarily a need for a number change. Those are rather inconvenient."

I smiled politely at her. "I'm actually a little bit concerned for my safety, so I'd like to change my number please." The woman paled at my words, and nodded.

"this'll only take a minute." The woman promised, sitting down behind a desk with my phone in her hands. I sat down on a bench on the far side of the room, tapping my foot with nervous energy. I was surprised with how fast she was, taking her only about ten minutes to return with my phone, and a piece of paper in her hands.

"Here you are," She said, handing me back my phone, and then pointed at the slip of paper. "That's your new number, you'd do well to remember it." She joked, winking at me. I smiled back at the woman, thanking her profusely before leaving the shop.

Once I was out, I checked my contacts, making sure that all the phone numbers were still in there. I found the one I was looking for, and pressed the phone icon next to it, initiating a call. It rang for a few seconds before he picked up.

"Ello?" The man said, faking a horrible hindi accent. "Who is thees?"

I laughed at his attempt before responding."Phil, it's me, Mara."

"Oh." The accent dropped, and I noticed it wasn't Phil talking at all.

"Dan?" I asked. "What are you doing with Phil's phone?"

"He's in the loo, and it said unknown number when you called, so I picked up to see who it was." Dan explained, sounding a little bit nervous.

"What was with the indian accent?" I queried, honestly confused about why he'd picked up that way.

"It's uh- a precaution incase a fan or someone got one of our personal numbers. I try and ask who it is before I give away that it's me." He admitted, and I laughed, loudly.

"That's awful!" I exclaimed. "At least do an accent that's believable."

"Yeah," He responded. "It is a little problematic." There was a long pause as I continued weaving my way through the crowded city streets. "Why are you calling, anyway?" He asked.

I bristled. "Phil's my best friend, I'm allowed to call him whenever I want."

"I didn't mean it like that." Dan said quickly, trying to cover up his mistake. "I was just wondering if it was something in particular." Oh.

"I just got my number changed, and I wanted to let Phil know that this is my number now."

"Why'd you change your number?" Dan asked, and I stiffened again, but kept walking.

"Personal stuff," I said flippantly. "Phil understands."

"Yeah.." Dan said slowly. "I'll let him know you called."

"Thanks Dan." I responded, fumbling to get out my oyster card for the underground. "I'll see you around."

"You too." He replied, and then he hung up.

I got on the tube and went home, choosing to spend my afternoon the same way I had before. A good book, a nice bath, and thai food to seal the deal. I just hoped this time when I went to bed, I wouldn't have any dreams.