Voicemail

Well, another round of Three Minute Fiction has come and gone.  I was not as happy with the theme for this round, nor was I at all pleased with my own efforts.  The theme was voicemail - and anyone who has ever heard me leave a voicemail probably knows why I didn't love this theme* - but here is what I came up with, anyway.

* Who leaves a three minute voicemail? Seriously, sit down and time yourself trying to talk to yourself for three minutes. It is a ridiculous long time.


"Look, I know I was a jerk, and I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I just, well of course I owe you an apology.  I know it is really late at night, and you’re probably sleeping, and I guess I should be sleeping too, except that I just couldn’t sleep without calling to tell you how sorry I am, even though I knew you wouldn’t answer because, well, I guess you’re asleep.  

So now it’s just me, and your voicemail, and you... whenever you listen to this, waiting for my apology.  You are still listening, aren’t you? You’re going to hear my apology, right?  You have to hear it.  You have to, so that I can know that I am forgiven.  You have to forgive me, because...

I know I was a jerk, and I know I overreacted.  It’s just, when I saw you

kissing him

that stupid dumbface hat-rack-brain who thinks he can call himself your boyfriend, who does he think he is?

But what I mean is, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have punched him.  I should have walked away and

but did you think it was as funny as I did?  I know you looked at me like I was crazy when I was laughing, but inside, didn’t you want to laugh too?  At the bright blood dripping from his nose - who knew that it would start coming out so fast?  And the tears in the corners of his eyes.  Him, such a big baby!  Did you laugh, later?

Alright, well, I’ve apologized now.  I’ll say it again, I’m sorry.  I really am, even if he did deserve it and it was funny.  He shouldn’t be kissing you, not when everyone knows you’re still with me.  You are still with me, aren’t you?

...

I have this feeling that if I hang up, that means you’re not still with me.  That I have to keep talking and talking into this voicemail until I see you again, and then you’ll smile and tell me you did laugh at all the blood he stores in his nose, and you’ll tell me how repulsive it was to be kissing him.  I know it must have been repulsive.  Right?

I can’t hang up, because I don’t know how to say goodbye to you without ten minutes of “I-love-you-more’s”.  As long as I keep talking, I can pretend that you are on the other end, twirling your hair around your finger, doodling on a little notepad on your desk.  I can see you, nodding your head as you listen to me, that smile on your face.

You’re awfully quiet tonight.  Are you drawing a picture of me, climbing the tree outside your window?  I still do that, at night, you know.  I know you don’t mind, just like I know you thought it was as funny as I did to see all the blood coming out of his face.

Well, I’ll see you at school tomorrow.  I’ll save you a seat in Geometry.

I love you.



No, I love you more.



No, really, I love you more."

Comments

  1. I ALWAYS loved your voicemails. Classic! And they always got more ridiculous the longer it went. I'm sorta glad I missed this One Minute Fiction. Lol. Nice work though.

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  2. I'm pretty sure I've left three minute long voicemail messages, because I am that awkward and ridiculous. :)

    And haha your guy is kind of scary!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Don't voicemails usually cut out after like MAYBE a minute??? lol It was awesome in a sort of creepy creeper sort of way.

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