One

22 0 0
                                    

I stare at the empty wet wall. I feel so dirty even though I was washed clean and dripping wet with clean water. I still felt like mud was stuck in between the crevices of my toes and the contaminated air was flowing in my hair. I had taken an early morning run, getting things off my mind and releasing stress from my brain. I remember my usual path changing into a dark, shadow filled void of trees. The air seemed to change course. The smell is still lingering in my nose. It wasn't a familiar scent, it was kind of dead smelling. There was rustling in the trees, but I figured it was nothing but the wind. I never stopped running to pay attention to how much the ground was changing. It was getting more and more damp, like it had just rained; although it hadn't rained in weeks. My feet were becoming harder to pick up. I lost my shoes completely as I tried to make my way through the small forest. I remember walking out of the forest, then running back home. The splurs of curses and attitude toward my day.

Stepping out of the shower, wrapping the towel around my waist, steam burned my eyes. I slid my hand across the mirror, staring at myself. My dark brown hair is sticking to my face, my stubble is dripping wet, and water from my eyelashes are dripping down past my golden brown eyes. I have looked at my face more often then you would think, but I've always questioned it. Why was this face made on me? This face looks like it could catch many dates and get shitfaced at parties. That's not the things I do. I like to get the best grades I can and impress my boss as much as possible. With this face no one takes me seriously, they think I'm all fun and games. I'm a twenty-two year old male intern for a music studio that forces me into coffee runs and work they feel the need not to do.

My phone rings in the other room so I make my way through my apartment, retriving the device and answering with a quick "Justin speaking." The voice that had called was soft and caring. I have known it all my life, the voice was like mellow music to my ears.

"Justin, Darling, it's your mother. How have you been?" My mother always greeted me like we haven't spoken in decades and as usual I tell her everything. It's conforting talking to her after a long week of the same reoccuring events. I tell her about my boss sticking me with hours of work, I tell her about my professor giving the class a whole new lesson two weeks before finals. My mother replies to every statement and story I tell. Hearing her voice and reacions make me feel a lot better about my day. I eventually tell her about this morning and I got no reaction back from her, just silence.

"Mom? Are you okay?" I waited for a few seconds, I finally hear her clear her throat on the other line.

"Are you free this Friday for dinner? I was hoping that your sister could come as well and I go all out on food." Her voice quivered as she talked, I shook it off. It wasnt everyday that all of my family got together and eat.

"I can clear my schedule." I looked at the clock. "I have to go classes start in an hour. I love you." I say closing my eyes.

"I love you too Justin. Don't be a stranger!" With that the line died and i was left in my dim apartment once more.

My classes went by fast and easy. I may not be the smartest in the room but I get my work done. Today my classes ended around 1 o'clock and my job at the dinner started at 1:30. Which means I'll have to walk fast if I want to make it on time to my shift. After the four hour shift I'll have to make it to the studio in less then twenty minutes. Then I'll have to hurry home and study if I want to pass tomorrows term quiz. Everything was swirling in my head over what had to be done that I wasnt paying attention when crossing the street. A lound honk buzzed through my ear, I turned around to the car, my heart eas racing and my head was hurting. The car had stopped before hitting me so I was physically fine but the weight on my shoulders caused my eyes to shut and my muscles to go limp.

-

"Justin Bleaks. Leave this world." A feminine voice echoed through my head. "You're not ready for your fate. You're not ready for your history." The voice was close but far. I have never heard the voice, I have never heard her.

Break Our BondWhere stories live. Discover now