“Where the hell is she?” He mumbled to himself. Worry, worry, worry. It was all he could do. The little kid on the table in front of him started staring. “Go away,” Jones mouthed. The kid didn't notice. His stare held. Pierced into Jones's skin. Sent parasites straight to his heart, knowing in an instant all there was to know about the man named Jones.
Why is he looking at me like that?
Jones checked his watch repeatedly. Then he stopped checking his watch. People were watching. Jones stole another look at it. Glimpsed at the clock on the wall, the people walking by. Pulled out his phone. Nothing new, just like last time. Anxiety swished around his stomach and poisoned his mind.
Come on, you said you'd be here by now...
For two long years, he had anticipated this night. It had taken Jones only a year or two to decide something that would last for the rest of his lifetime. He had been placing foreshadowing of this night, here and there. Subtle mannerisms, that only gave away his intent if you looked deeply. Everything was falling into place, if only she would show up...
“May I take your order?” The waitress had appeared from seemingly nowhere. Locks of blonde hair encircled her face. She stood there lazily, a notepad in one hand and her free hand resting on her hip. How many orders had she taken today? How many people had droned to her, dictating what she wrote down in her tiny notepad? Jones confusedly looked into her eyes and saw himself in them. They were a soulless black. He stared for a second, two seconds, and lost himself in those abysmal eyes.
Jones flinched. Where was the menu? In front of him on the table, of course. Jones cursed under his breath and fumbled through the menu. Why was she startled? She looked at Jones the same way somebody looks at an animal going crazy. All he did was make eye contact. What was so bad about eye contact?
“Umm... actually, I'm kinda waiting for somebody. So uh... can you take my order in like, a little while?” Jones was unsure of what he was saying. Normal, normal, breathe. You can be normal. Relax. You can do this. The waitress was so careless. Jones wished he could be careless.
please show up
“Of course.” The waitress looked at him sympathetically, almost pitifully, and scurried away. Jones scowled. He had seen the look in her eye. Those black beads had, in a split second, flared with the look of contempt. She's seen this before. She's seen it a dozen times. He's just another example. A nameless example.
Jones zipped his jacket up and crossed his arms.He checked his watch again. She isn't here. Why would she be? Why would she ever be? Jones bit his lower lip and stared at the floor. He waited. He would wait. He could do that.
PLEASE show up
Thirty minutes had come and gone. Thirty agonizing minutes that stretched on for almost an eternity. The waiter had walked by several times and looked uneasily at Jones. He pretended not to notice, like he’d been doing his whole life. Jones dug his hand into his right pocket, and fondled the tiny box within. He hoped that he would use it that night. To open it. That maybe once, he could do something right. But apparently not.
she's not here. she's not here...
The waitress had walked by innumerable times now, clearly suspicious of Jones. The restaurant staff was huddled by the bar, speaking in whispers. What time was it? Was everyone focusing on him? All eyes pointed to Jones.
she's never here she doesn't care she doesn't care SHE DOESN'T CARE why am I here why do I bother this little kid is staring he's staring right at me is everyone staring why are they staring now the waiter is looking sorry ma'am I have to leave sorry for wasting your time sorry for wasting everybody's time
Jones bludgeoned open the doors and began somberly walking down the street. Every step was filled with anger. Every footprint in the snow leaving a trail of hatred. He wanted nothing more than to walk right off the face of the earth. Everything in the city was alive around him, so why wasn't he? The hollow man walked.
she better be home she better freaking be home then she'll see she'll see what she's done what she always does if she thinks she can just play these freaking games
He stopped at the corner. Cars blazed past him. Jones pulled his phone out again. Nothing again. He dialed a few numbers, waiting to call Syd, but stopped himself short. Why the hell would Syd want to know? He was against it this whole time. He probably even conspired against Jones. Strung him along, waiting for Jones to fall, waiting for this moment. Jones threw his phone on the ground. Stamped on it until it lay in pieces and shards. No one would notice. No one would care. Who ever wanted to talk to Jones?
What is it with all these sirens going off?! Can't people just mind their own business and not get in trouble?!
A brick-red apartment building came into view. Two floors, two residences. A lamp shone from the top floor and illuminated the balcony. Jones picked up a rock and flung it towards the glass door on the upper terrace. He took all the rocks he could and violently threw them. He wouldn't rest until he got her attention. When he ran out of rocks, he emptied his pockets and threw their contents, save for that one tiny, fragile box.
Shadows moved on the far wall of the house. The glass door rolled open. She stormed over to the balcony ledge, her face covered in shadows. The moon wasn't shining, but she was. She was happy about something, but god knows what. She had abandoned Jones at the restaurant and humiliated him. He didn’t care how bright her face was, to him, the night was dark and dead.
“What are you doing, Jones?!” she spoke loudly, in an oddly serene voice.
What am I doing?! What have you been doing? What the hell have YOU been doing?
“Where were you?” bellowed Jones.
“Oh my god I'm so sorry Jones I was--”
“DON'T give me any of your excuses!”
“But I'm not trying to make excuses I was rea--”
“You always do this! Everytime!”
“JONES, LISTEN TO ME! I was jus--”
“NO! NO! I won't listen to you! You think this is okay? You think any of this is okay? I was there for an hour, just waiting for you! I looked like an idiot! But you don't have a problem with that, do you? Oh no, ANYTHING is okay as long as it's at MY expense and not yours! Who gives a damn if I look stupid, right?!” Jones screamed, insatiable with rage. He wasn't going to let this one slip away. He would end this right then and there. “You couldn't even tell me where you were? Or why you weren't there? I have a FREAKING PHONE. It takes what, TWO SECONDS to send a text? But oh no, that's too much effort for little princess over here, huh? I am so SICK OF YOU!” Jones yelled until his throat was hoarse. Everything was coming out, all at once. All his pent up fury, all the things he tolerated, were coming out now.
Yeah, speechless, aren’t you? Good. It’s about time you got a piece of my mind. It’s an eye for an eye heart for a heart heart for a heart heart for a heart heart for a
His words took effect instantly. She was crying, tearing, sobbing. Rivers flowed from her eyes. Her body was exhausting its entire water supply. She was going to say something but the sobs subdued her voice. She tried to catch herself, to stop. But Jones wouldn't have any of it. Too many times had he succumbed to sadness, this time he would come out the victor. This time he was in control.
NO. Don’t try to convince me with your fake tears! I’m not gonna fall for it. I’M NOT GONNA FALL FOR IT!
“Here, take this, because hell knows I don't need it FOR ANOTHER SECOND!” Jones searched his pocket again for the box. He pulled it out and took his first good look at it since the time he had purchased it. He knew perfectly well what was inside. Jones hoped it broke her heart, broke her heart like the thousands of times she had done to him. He firmly squeezed it, as if saying goodbye. He then looked at her, crying on the balcony, and viciously flung it at her.
It spiked her in the head and toppled onto the floor, and the top of the box flung open. Its contents lay bare. Within the box was a single diamond ring.
Jones turned his back to the balcony. To the apartment. To the street. To her. Once again, he walked. Except this time, he wasn't sure what his destination was.
What is that GOD DAMN NOISE?
The wail of a police car blared, shadowing Jones.
She sat in her cold leather chair, with puffy cheeks and empty tissue boxes. The ring still remained untouched on the balcony. She solemnly stared at the kitchen counter. For on it, was the reason she was late to their date. The reason for Jones's outburst. The cause of the end of their relationship. It was a white bag, filled with Jones's favorite things. It was her gift to him. A proposal to marriage. Now useless, and soon to be forever forgotten.
V1.4, edited after Heb0's post and Goggie's post
This is a short story I wrote in one sitting. I went back to edit it and fix it about three times now, and I've done the most I can without detracting from it. Sorry for using so much language - I thought throwing in tons of curses was a good way to reveal Jones's anger problems.
I don't think this is my best piece of writing, but it's been a very long time since I've been able to write a full story from start to finish, and I do like it a bunch. So please - constructive criticism and comments would be very much appreciated!
Warning, this version contains language in it. Instead of putting in the words and letting them be censored, I used asterisks (the * symbol) to censor them. This is because the flow of the story is messed up if the dialogue looks like: "This is fudgeING stupid."
Edited by Samsara, 15 August 2011 - 07:48 PM.