Craig+Thorogood+2014


 * __MIRROR__ **

“Help me,” the voice whispered. Then silence. The phone went dead.


 * ONE HOUR EARLIER **

 Crap. That was the first thought that ran through Tony’s muddled brain. Where am I? The couch isn’t familiar. Not mine. Whats the time? Opening his eyes, he groaned and squinted as the glare of a lamp cut into his pupils. Muted pain like a dull knife, seemed to slug its way from his eyeballs to his barely functioning brain. He managed to finally register that he was at his cousin’s house. It was New Year’s Eve, 2014. Well, actually, New Year’s Day, technically - the glowing numbers on the clock read 3:28 AM. Happy effing New Year, he thought, as he dug his phone out of his pocket, seeing eight missed calls from his wife, all between 2 and 3 am. Probably wondering when I was coming home. Fat chance. Wasn’t gonna pass up a chance to get drunk and forget about my miserable effing life. Rolling off, Tony struggled to his feet, ignoring the pounding headache. He knew from plenty of experience it would be gone within the hour. This wasn’t an unusual experience.  Except for that, he thought with a wry laugh as he nearly tripped over a body lying on the floor. He nudged it with his foot and it gave a loud snore. His cousin’s lanky form was unmistakable. “Get up, Chuck,” Tony slurred. Chuck just grunted. Tony noticed multiple people lying on the floor, or the couches. Someone was even lying on the kitchen table.  Tony poured himself a glass of orange, of course, helping himself to a bit of vodka as well. What the hell, can’t do any more damage, Tony thought. His wife had long since pleaded for him to see an alcohol counselor or go to an AA meeting, but Tony thought that was BS. He was fine, wasn’t he?  The ring of the house phone jerked Tony out of his thoughts. He looked around. He was the only one near the phone. A few people stirred at the noise, but most kept right on sleeping. Tony picked up the phone. It was an older phone, and the long tangled cord brushed against Tony’s feet as he lifted the phone off the wall.  “Help me,” a voice whispered. A man’s voice. Frail and weak, it was barely loud enough to hear. Tony pressed the phone harder against his ear. “Help me,” it said again. The voice sounded faintly familiar, like someone Tony once knew, long ago.  “Help me,” the voice whispered once more. Then silence. The phone went dead. What the hell? Tony thought. Placing the phone back, he scratched his head.  The phone rang again. Tony hesitated before lifting the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”  “Help me,” it said. “Help me, help me, help me.” The voice echoed over and over in Tony’s ears. “How can I help you?” Tony asked. “Tell me how.”  Silence. Then, a tap on his shoulder. It was Chuck. Drunk Chuck, but still Chuck. “Yo Tonyyyyy.” Chuck grinned, his eyes out of focus. “Me and a couple guys are goin ta Bob’s for some..some.some drinks, yo. You up, bro?”  Normally, Tony would have jumped at the opportunity. Now, after the two phone calls, he wasn’t feeling it at all. Something was definitely not right. “I’ll pass, Chuck,” he said.  “Alright, man. Suit yourself, yo.”  Tony went into the bathroom to wash up, and to try and become somewhat capable of moving and thinking clearly. He stared at his reflection for a long, long time.  His cell phone rang. He picked it up, expecting the voice again. But it was his wife. She was hysterically crying. “Thank god...where are you?” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “At Chuck’s house,” he said. “What’s going on?” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “You’re still at the house? Oh my god, Tony, I thought you were with them. Suzy called me. They drove off to Bob’s and got into a terrible accident. The car...the car crashed into a tree and exploded...I….I knew you’d be with them….I thought, I thought…” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “Baby, I’m...I’m okay.” Tony’s thoughts swirled. “Help me…” he whispered. And suddenly he knew. He knew who the voice was. His wife was still crying on the phone, but Tony’s gaze moved to the glass of orange juice he still had with him, on the bathroom counter. He picked it up, and poured it down the sink.

<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“I know how to help you,” he told his reflection in the mirror.