The Connected Lost Connection

*Ring Ring* went my phone as I walked around my studio apartment wrapped in a towel. “Who would be calling?” I asked myself as I went to answer it, my week away from work has barely begun, they better not be calling me. “0463 826 948, Hmm that’s weird, they normally call on a private number. Fuck it.” “Hello?” I spoke as I answered the unknown number. “Hey, your mum gave me your number and suggested this would be a good time to give you a ring” said the masculine voice on the other side of the phone. “Oh no, what did she say? I am not looking for anything relationship-wise, I work twelve-hour days and honestly, I just don’t have time to spend on unimportant things.” I said in an annoyed tone, this isn’t the first time my mum has done something this invasive, I think I’ll just get rid of this number and not give her my new number. “If you could give me just a moment of your time, it really won’t be long.” He spoke after what felt like an enteral silence. Something about the way he said that. I couldn’t say no, he sounded almost broken. I responded with, “I have time.” Giving him the green light to say whatever he wanted to say. As he began talking about different things, I found myself unable to hang up, his voice became addicting. I need to keep listening to him talk, I needed to keep him on the phone. I began bringing up anything and everything just to keep him talking to me. I surely had said all there was to say and so had he, I felt like I knew everything about him, from the colour of his eyes to the size of his shoes. Finally, the unbearable words of “I should probably get going, Sam” shattered in my ears, the way he said my name almost made him hanging up worth it. As I was about to say goodbye, the dreaded sound of the dial tone indicating lost connection hit my ears. “Bye, Harry” I whispered to myself.

I checked the time on my phone, ‘ 3:17 AM’. “What the hell!” I shouted, startled, it was 8:30 PM before the call started, where had the time gone? Was I really on the phone for almost seven hours? I used the bathroom before settling into bed, naked as I couldn’t afford to air-condition, with these hot summer nights, it was the only way to cool down. It would almost make me regret getting a loan so soon. The weekly payments felt impossible some days. Twelve-hour days and nothing to show for it. I closed my eyes, and I saw him, laying in a large green chaise, the kind of green that matched his still, lifeless eyes. I moved closer to him and saw a cut from his elbow down to his wrist, bone visible to see. I looked below his arm and the now imperfect green chaise ruined by large amounts of blood. I tried to react but felt my body being surrounded. I closed my eyes in hopes to hide from the scene. My eyes opened again but I was back in my room. I had turned around so much I was somewhat trapped in my sheet, I slowly got myself out of this mind-boggling trap and threw the sweat-drenched sheet on the floor of my room. I turned over and I found I was just as uncomfortable as I was in the previous position, finally decided to toss my body around and just could not find a comfortable position to lie in. Instinctively I grabbed my phone to check the time, ‘ 3:24 AM’, I sighed, it felt as if I was trapped in time. I closed my eyes again, hoping to dream sweeter dreams. As uncomfortable as I was, I was just happy to have that sheet off my bed and off my body.

“GET DOWN” screamed a voice coming from behind me, I turned around to find a police officer pointing a gun at me, except, it wasn’t me, I was in someone else’s body, I screamed back at the cop “Fuck off, I will slit my fucking wrist before you take me in” Holding a scalpel to my wrist, ready to tear my arm open. What the hell was going on, I noticed the building behind the officer, It read ‘Welcome many, Welcome all’ it was the theatre, the one my dad would take me to before he passed away. They would only play movies from before 2000 and I loved it, they would even do events where they played tv series from the 90s, one season a night. My favourite tv show was That 70s show. It shut down after a fire had ignited from angry protestors, they couldn’t afford to rebuild and that was that. An entire part of my childhood is gone. “For Fuck’s sake Harry, just stop, you can’t keep doing this, she was just doing her job.” Who was doing her job? Am I dreaming? What is Harry doing? I had so many questions. I ran towards the officer, wait no, Harry ran towards the officer, wait, I don’t know, I suppose we ran towards the officer. The loudest explosion I have ever heard as the officer shot his weapon. I sat up and screamed, once again in my bed, drenched in sweat. I grabbed my phone to check the time ‘3:39 AM’. Instead of going back to sleep, I am going to stay up until sunrise, I can’t take these dreams anymore. I grabbed a glass of water and sat down on my couch to drink it. One thought on my mind, what the hell was Harry doing?

Intrusive thought after intrusive thought, I came up with the brilliant idea of going to the theatre, maybe subconsciously I needed some reassurance, either way, I have made my mind up. I got dressed in whatever clothes I could find, which were some dirty PJ Bottoms with little images of robots on them and a large worn-out T-shirt. I put my Jogging shoes on and grabbed my car keys and made my way to the theatre. The Streets were quiet, I hadn’t experience nightlife in a while since I seem to always find myself too tired to leave my house for anything but work, was it always this quiet? ‘4:07 AM read my car's clock by the time I made it to the theatre. The building looked so abandoned, you wouldn’t even think it was ever the highlight of the town. I pushed the front door and to my surprised, it opened, as if it was opened recently and forgotten about.

I walked in and wandered the halls, using my phone torch as a guide. I went to the live theatre part of the building and found a light on inside, directed at the middle of the stage. I notice the large, long green chair. Were my dreams real? On the chair sat Harry. I ran to him in hopes I could save in, the closer I got the more I realised the paleness of his skin and the red foam-like substance pouring out of his nose and mouth, extremely obvious decay covering his body, skin falling off his bones, I talked to him on the phone an hour ago, what the hell was happening? I reached him and saw the long slice down his forearm, I started to cry, my emotions were uncontrollable bubbling out of me like a fat man in a shirt that is way too small for him. Who the hell called me? What were those dreams? I cupped his face in my hands, wiped the foam away from his mouth, and brought my face close to his, with our noses touching, his touch was cold and clammy, worms coming in and out of holes all over his body. Knowing he had passed days ago; this was my last and only chance I pressed my lips against his cold lifeless lips. *Ring Ring* I looked at my phone, it was the same number as Harry, I answered it “who the hell is this and what happened to harry?” I yelled “Turn around, Sam.” the voice said. I turned around to find someone with a video camera, filming what I had just done.