“Blip-blip” My phone vibrates on the bed that is laid out in front of me. I stare at it while it vibrates the grey covers below. I have been dreading this conversation for the entire day. I know it is inevitable. Hesitantly, I reach for the buzzing device as my mind ponders the outcome of the impending conversation.
I jumped up and down in my studio flat, shaking the furniture that surrounded me. I then stumbled on a stray pencil, instantly collapsing on the ground on a pile of notebooks and film cases. “Bloody hell!” I yelled out in pain. I was sprawled out on the ground, unmoving, while I bit my lip, holding in my screams. My raven black and fire red hair fell over my face as I laid on the ground trying to relieve my aching ankle. My necklace lay on the ground, clasp broken but pendent still intact. Releasing my lip, slowly I got up from my position on the ground and in my hands I clutched my phone which I had just received the most amazing news from. Well, most amazing to me. Absolute, a modeling agency in Firenze, Italy wanted me to come and take photos for their summertime issue of their international magazine. Of course there was no reason for me to give my head a wobble. I accepted it without a trace of hesitancy and even a few minutes after I still didn’t regret it.
I am pulled back to reality when my phone starts ringing again. I ignored it the first time in hopes to avoid the conversation in total. “Might as well get it over with.” I think in my head as I pick up the phone.
“Hello?” I whisper in a worrying tone as I am soon to face the consequences of my actions. On the other side of the line I hear a heavy sigh and I know it was a mistake on my part.
“Phoenix are you okay? Did you die? Can I plan your funeral? I’ll play Highway to Hell by AC/DC at your funeral. Please?” Questions spitfire through my phone as I quickly realize the voice incoming through my speakers. It’s Michael, my brother.
I sigh with a bit of mither in my voice. “Yea, i’m okay Michael. No I didn’t die, and... maybe. How’d you find out about the crash anyways?”
“I check the news, ya doylem.” Michael says with a voice dripping with sass and sarcasm. “-and mainly the fact that our mother had texted me to make sure you were alright.”
“Why does she care? She hadn’t made any advance towards apologizing to me. She should be happy about the crash, she probably wishes I was dead.” I reply with a harsher tone than I had meant too.
An audible sigh erupts from the other side of the line. “She does care and wants to apologize. Also she wants you to visit, but she knows that you won’t listen to her.” He says with a cautious tone.
I think over his words as I play with the broken clasp from the necklace. My mum had given it to me for my 16th birthday when we were still on good terms. “I guess you are right in a way... “ I reply after rethinking my options.
“I am always right, and you know it. I have to go now, try not to die.” He breathes out. He doesn’t wait for me to say goodbye to him, he just leaves me alone with the dial tone.
I fall back onto my bed and sigh. I think about everything, the crash, my mum, Michael, and my job. My job! I shoot up from my bed and start pacing. “What do I do? Do I still do the shoot? How do I get home?” Questions ring through my mind nonstop.
A knock on my hotel door interrupts my train of thought, I break out of my mental breakdown and start walking towards the door. Upon opening I see that it was the models.
“Ahem- wh-what’s up? What do ya need?” I stutter out while making awkward eye contact with one of the models, named Alessandra.
She shyly looks away as her face brightens up with a slight rosy pink colour. She forces herself to look back at me as she speaks to me in a light tone saying, “We don’t know what to do now. We came to see if you had an idea, since he usually gives his photographers a copy of the schedule.”
As I keep eye contact with Alessandra, I keep thinking about the choices I have. Do I tell them? Do I quit and leave them to go home? Do I leave on my own and pretend this never happened? But all of those questions evaporate into thin air as she speaks up again.
“We can’t think of anything to do, we just decided to go along with the plans even though Luigi is gone.” She splutters out in a speedily tone.
My questions are answered as soon as I look at their pleading faces. “Let me look, I probably have it.” I say with a beaming smile on my face as I enter the room once again.
Their faces are brightly lit up as they all follow me into the room. Maybe I could work this job, I could probably take over this photoshoot, right?
My brain pounds against my skull as I recapture the events of last night. “What happened? Where are the girls? They probably went back to their rooms after the planning I guess.” I think to myself.
They all entered my room as I sat down on my bed and shuffled through my bag while the girls sat around me, gathering up their voices to ask my about the upcoming days.
“Okay, well according to the sheet we are supposed to go to the headquarters to talk with the manager and he was supposed to tell us where the shoot was. I think we have to make our way there at about nine AM to get to the shoot at six PM.” I exclaimed with finality. “I’ll wake all of you up in the morning so we can all eat breakfast together on the deck.” I drolled on with my varying tone of voice.
One girl named Sasha raised her hand and started to ask a question that was probably on everyone’s mind. “How are we supposed to go back to the normal schedule if our manager-” She paused. “- isn’t here anymore?”
“How do I respond to that?” Was the only thing running through my mind. As much as I thought about it, I just couldn’t find an answer, I might make up one then. “We can still do the schedule, but pretend i’m your manager for this trip. When we get back we can make arrangements and hire a new manager.” I said faking my confidence, and smiling at them like I knew what I was doing.
After I collect my thoughts I check the alarm clock that was beside my bed. “Only seven AM?” I say to myself as I attempt to make my way out of the bed to figure out the best way to wake up all of the models for the day.
When I finish pulling the girls together and all of their items, we eat our breakfast in the lobby of the hotel. We eat in silence, not a single word was uttered from the group of people sitting secluded from the main dining room. The silence helps me think. It makes me rethink everything. “Was I going to take over his place for this trip? I just couldn’t after the crash.” My mind is a mess and I can’t think straight. When I finish the shoot I would find one of their employees and leave. But I have to go, and that was final.
The shoot is over. It was extremely unbearable. The ride there was only filled with the small movements of the girls. The air conditioner was on full blast and I am pretty sure that I could hear every single thing. The traffic, the guy yelling at the dude who spilled his coffee, and everything in between.
Now I am on a flight, paid for by the agency of course, on my way home. I would send the photos through email. I spoke to someone and they would take over the trip in the place of the manager. My part was finally done. No more flashbacks of the wreck daily, and no one there to remind me of the tragic event.
I had only got back to my dull grey flat when I suddenly get a call from my brother, or so I thought.
“What do you want now, ya muppet?” I cry into the phone with annoyance clear in my voice.
“Nix?” I freeze in my spot. Instantly I know who it is. Only one person calls me by that nickname. Not Michael, but my mother. The one who lied to me, deceived me and betrayed me in a way I would never want to forgive.
My voice turns cold as I reply to the devil waiting on the other side of the line. “What do you want? Why do you have Michael’s phone?” Those and many more questions race through my mind as I contemplate my future decisions that were to come.
“Before you hang up-” she quickly sputters out before I could even reach the end button, “I want to, no I need to apologize to you. For everything.”
I pause, “Go ahead. You can explain.” I say cautiously approaching the situation at hand. “Should I have just hung up?” I think in my head as she starts off.
She audibly gulps through the phone speaker and starts off her sentence with a shaky voice. “I-I want to apologize, for everything, the lies I blatantly told you all throughout your life, about your father, and most of all, for not being the mother I was meant to be. I know that you were on the ship, and when I heard about the crash-” She pauses. All I could hear through the phone were the quiet tears escaping from the woman on the other side. “I-I thought you were dead. I didn’t think that I would get a chance to say that i-i’m sorry. To explain m-my side of the story. I-I didn’t think I would ever get to see you again, and that I would have to l-live without knowing if you forgive me for what I did.” She stutters out.
It was a dark and stormy evening around nine. I was just laying in my bed, scrolling through the photos I had taken and posted to my Tumblr blog. Seeing the reactions from people really helped boost up my self-esteem.
I heard a loud slam come from downstairs followed by a loud crashing noise, meaning that my mum was finally home. She usually worked late at A&E but she never came home this late before. Quickly, I stood up and ran down the stairs waiting to greet her with hugs but was stopped short when I noticed the faint smell of alcohol that erupted from the living room.
My mum was standing there. She threw picture frames on the ground and yelled curse words left and right. I approached slowly, trying not to startle her. I didn’t want her to throw something at me, but she wouldn’t hurt me ever, right? When I got into her view she turned in an instant, and stared at me with sadness deeply shown in her eyes.
Before I could say anything, her eyes turned from sadness to fury in a fraction of a second. She stumbled towards me and started breathing heavily. Her usual bright blue eyes turned into dark cerulean pools. It worried me to a point of anxiety.
“You. You are the reason he left me! You are worthless, without you I would be happy for once! You ruined my life and relationship. You were a mistake and I just wish you would just leave! You are a burden and I hate you!” She screamed out at me, as she got closer with each and every step, knocking over vases and frames filled with the photos I had taken of her and Michael.
“Mum! Please calm down, talk to me. Please, I can fix myself and I can try to better myself. Just tell me what’s wrong.” I said slowly approaching the fuming woman, black hair messy, clothes stretched, as if they were pulled in frustration.
“You are the reason he left me. If it weren’t for you I would still have a happy life! He didn’t want a second child! He wanted his dream life so he wanted to abort you! I didn’t want to kill and he left me. It’s your fault! We could have been happy, without you! You are a worthless, pitiful, emo, antisocial, putrid brat and you don’t deserve to live.” With every word she stepped forward, so now she was pushing me up against the kitchen counter, gripping my wrist, and panting heavily.
I pushed her away, trying to escape her suffocating grip while slipping cautiously to the side. I pushed over the desk table, with it fell a glass vase, shattering instantly. Her eyes flickered from me to the broken glass on the ground.
“See? You ruin everything you touch! You probably did that on purpose didn’t you? You are so inconsiderate!” She pushed me on the ground harshly, not thinking about the consequences. I landed on the broken glass, blood gushing out everywhere, and glass poking out of my side and back.
Realization showed clear in her eyes as soon as she saw the crimson liquid spilling out over the pristine marble tiles. In a split second her motherly instincts kicked in and she tried getting closer to me, but I scooted away in agony and worry that she was going to hurt me again.
“Get away from me, you- you monster!” I screamed out. I then fully collapsed on the ground, a large blood puddle pooled around me, staining my clothes and the tiles beneath me. My vision started to blur and black and white spots started to cloud my vision entirely. All I heard was the faint dialing of a phone and the panicked gasps coming from the figure above me. Soon I drifted into nothingness.
A few days after I blacked out, I woke up, but in a different surrounding. Pale blue curtains donned the windows to my left and the covers I was surrounded in were pristine white with a light blue swirling design. A constant and insufferable beeping sound came from my right. When I tried to sit up a needle struck agony in me and I gasped out in pain, clutching the appendage in my hand. A nearby nurse entered the room the exact moment I gasped and she stood back in shock. She opened her mouth slightly, trying to form words but nothing came out. She then reached towards her side and clicked a button on her pager.
In a second, nurses and doctors rushed in. Bright lights and sudden noises clouded my thoughts and visions. Then above all of the noise a startling yell came from behind them. It was a doctor telling them to let themselves out so he could take his diagnosis in peace. The others rushed out, pleading apologizes whilst the doctor made his way to me.
One by one, questions were slowly asked and I answered with confusion. When he was finally finished he opened the door to reveal my mother, and it all came back to me. I told the doctor to make her leave. She struggled against it but when she finally made eye contact with me she stopped. That was the last time I saw her.
“Explain to me. Why did you say those things? I know you were drunk, but drunk words are sober thoughts, right? Do you actually care or are you just faking because you don’t want to live with the guilt?” By now I am pacing around my room, moving my hands in exaggerated ways, in complete mither by the topic at hand.
“I do care about you! I just didn’t know how to explain it! I don’t think you’re any of the things I said about you that day and you know it! Just listen to me, please.” She says pleading through the phone.
“I’m listening, but this is your only chance to make it up to me.” I say with a monotone voice, keeping to get my emotions in check.
“Your father didn’t die. He left. He left because he didn’t want another child, especially not a girl. He wanted me to get an abortion, but I wouldn’t. I wanted to keep you, so I did. But he left me when I refused. I always told you that he died because I didn’t want you to think that it was your fault. I didn’t want that to be on your mind. I lied to you and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. When I saw you in that hospital bed, I knew you would have remembered what I said. I wanted to explain it to you then and there but you wouldn’t allow me too. Right then, I knew that I f***ed up. Before you ask, I didn’t tell your brother. He was only two at the time, so he didn’t know. I decided that it was easier to lie to you than to tell you. Both of you. Please, please, please forgive me. I had the right intentions in mind, just see it from my perspective, please.” She pleads and when she finishes with her explanation, she starts weeping.
I try my best to pull myself together and speak up, but I couldn’t find the words. She really means it? In the midst of her tears, I pull myself together enough to utter the three words that would fix her tears. “I forgive you.” Then I hang up.