Late Night Phone Calls
The result of my boredom. Short story. NOT SLASH!! Just a story. No beta or anything so there's probably lots of mistakes. my apologies in advance.
I look at the clock for about the 7th time in the past 5 minutes. I never really take in the numbers that it reads. I just like to think I'm doing something productive in the time that I'm supposed to be sleeping. I won't sleep though. Not until I get your call. I wait for it every night and then we talk until we're so dillusional we don't even know what we're saying. I might be crazy to think it's romantic, I might not be. I never really know the difference between sanity and insanity anymore. I guess that's just what happens when you've become so blinded by love you can't even think or function properly anymore.
Finally after another 4 minutes of anxious waiting I feel the vibration of my phone. I quickly pick it up and open it.
"Hello?" I ask as if I don't know it's you. I do. I always do.
"Hi," you say. That simple little phrase gives me butterflies. I've never felt like this before. It scares me and makes me happy all at the same time. I don't know what to think.
Our conversation carries on through the night. One hour, two hours pass when I hear bumping in the other room. I grow silent knowing exactly who it is. My dad. I'm not sure what he's doing in that room so late at night, but I know if I talk he'll hear me. I can't let him hear me the same thing will happen as that night three years ago.
"Hold on," I whisper to you.
"Alright," you say. You're completely oblivious to the danger that lies in the other room. Yes I said danger. My father is the biggest danger to me. He can hurt me both physically and emotionally. The past few years I've been an emotional wreck because of him. To put it simply, I hate him.
"Girl you better be asleep!" I hear him yell from the other room. Shakily, I had myself under the covers and close my eyes praying to God that he goes away. I don't even really believe in God, but if there is one out there I wish he'd help me just once. Suddenly my door flies open and I shoot my eyes tighter. Please don't lift the covers. Please. Too late.
He lifts the covers and automatically sees my phone open and can tell I'm not asleep. He starts screaming and I'm too afraid to hear it. I see him grab my phone and throw it at my wall. It snaps in half and I cringe. No more late night phone calls I suppose...
I look at the clock for about the 7th time in the past 5 minutes. I never really take in the numbers that it reads. I just like to think I'm doing something productive in the time that I'm supposed to be sleeping. I won't sleep though. Not until I get your call. I wait for it every night and then we talk until we're so dillusional we don't even know what we're saying. I might be crazy to think it's romantic, I might not be. I never really know the difference between sanity and insanity anymore. I guess that's just what happens when you've become so blinded by love you can't even think or function properly anymore.
Finally after another 4 minutes of anxious waiting I feel the vibration of my phone. I quickly pick it up and open it.
"Hello?" I ask as if I don't know it's you. I do. I always do.
"Hi," you say. That simple little phrase gives me butterflies. I've never felt like this before. It scares me and makes me happy all at the same time. I don't know what to think.
Our conversation carries on through the night. One hour, two hours pass when I hear bumping in the other room. I grow silent knowing exactly who it is. My dad. I'm not sure what he's doing in that room so late at night, but I know if I talk he'll hear me. I can't let him hear me the same thing will happen as that night three years ago.
"Hold on," I whisper to you.
"Alright," you say. You're completely oblivious to the danger that lies in the other room. Yes I said danger. My father is the biggest danger to me. He can hurt me both physically and emotionally. The past few years I've been an emotional wreck because of him. To put it simply, I hate him.
"Girl you better be asleep!" I hear him yell from the other room. Shakily, I had myself under the covers and close my eyes praying to God that he goes away. I don't even really believe in God, but if there is one out there I wish he'd help me just once. Suddenly my door flies open and I shoot my eyes tighter. Please don't lift the covers. Please. Too late.
He lifts the covers and automatically sees my phone open and can tell I'm not asleep. He starts screaming and I'm too afraid to hear it. I see him grab my phone and throw it at my wall. It snaps in half and I cringe. No more late night phone calls I suppose...