❝In which a celebrity dials a random number in hope of finding one last thing to make him smile before he commits suicide at the end of the month.❞
"I'm going to commit suicide in one months time."
"I think you have the wrong number."
"It can't be t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
1 1 : 3 2 | A M
Shane's hands had never ceased to shake.
It was a movement so small that it did not register to his own brain that it was happening. As far as he was aware it was a typical day. Another day that would be stored away in the world's book of days that were completely and utterly unimportant. What did it matter to the universe that a boy would take a girl out? How could that possibly be out of the ordinary?
Then why did his hands continue to shake as if this one day could change the course of the future?
These, of course, were not questions that he would ask himself at the time. These were the questions that he would ask himself when it was over. All over and concluded to the part of his mind where he stored his most precious of memories.
He liked to imagine his mind in sections, a glass box for every section of the brain.
One box that he vowed to never open. The one box that he kept under lock and key. That box, perhaps unsurprisingly, was filled to the brim with all of the awful things. The horrifying, disturbing and perturbing thoughts that he wished away as soon as they came. The memories that he willed to fade as soon as they surfaced. Unfortunately for him, this certain box was made of clear glass. Consequently, he could still see every detail of the items stored in that particular box. It was simply...far away. Blurred, not quite there but still prominent.
Then there was the part of his mind that he reserved for logical thinking. Like maths or how much the coffee he was currently buying cost. He found himself fishing around in his wallet as that part of his mind rushed to calculate the total of the amount. Something inside him told him that all he had to do was lift his gaze and he would be able to see the exact price displayed on the cash register but he didn't care. It wasn't an accomplishment if he hadn't worked it out himself. "Here you go, fifteen pounds fifty."
The old woman behind the cash desk smiled at him warmly. She was used to him coming here at this time of morning. She would always look forward to the hooded superstar who pretended to be oblivious to her knowledge of his identity. It always brought a smile to her face to see the boy rush in the door at exactly 11:32 each morning. Today, however, was different. He had someone with him. A small, petite girl who appeared to be laughing with him about how she could almost imagine him hunched up on the tiny stage strumming his little heart out on the guitar whilst the microphone screeched because of the horrible quality.
Of course, in Shane's mind, there was also a section dedicated to language and how to communicate with others. Not that he thought of that part of his brain much. If he thought hard enough he could almost imagine the stored images of people saluting him in greeting or the fake smiles he had accustomed himself to.
As everyone had, there was a section of his mind devoted to all the sweet and joyful things in his life. It was the only section of his mind that he found solace in. Without it, he could almost picture himself drowning in a pool of unwanted memories. Shane could not recall the number of times that he had laid awake at night, staring at the ceiling indulging in the memories stored in that certain part of his mind. Even if they were what seemed like an eternity away.
Recently he had noticed a new sector of his brain developing. It was considerably smaller than the other fractions of his mind but it was quickly becoming one of his favorites. Doing the math it probably didn't take up even one-hundredth of his mind. Yet, somehow, it was becoming the part that he thought of the most. This section was something that he liked to call Super-girl.
He laughed at something she said, almost spilling his coffee as he did so.
Super-girl sat across from him, cheeks rosy due to the previous chill of the backstreets of London.
Yes, he thought to himself. That part of his brain was most certainly his favorite.
