I would not go to sleep until I found my cell phone. I eventually found it under the bed. Hmm, how in the hell did it get there? I put so much time, effort and thought into finding the damned thing, and with that waste of energy, I give you this piece of late-night rubbish. SOC freestyle, so don’t go expecting some well-written story here. lol.
The phone is ringing, well not exactly. I can hear it vibrating, but I can’t figure out exactly where the sound is emanating from in my apartment. I checked the most obvious place, my couch, and realized that my phone is missing… My phone is ringing somewhere in my apartment.
Wherever it is, it shouldn’t be hard to find. I live in a small studio apartment with nothing more than a bathroom and closet for other walk-in areas. My humble abode is furnished with nothing but a couch that converts into a bed, a desk to hold my television set, and a box containing all papers and mail in my name within the past four months. My phone shouldn’t be hard to find, yet it rings repeatedly, and I’m just having the hardest time finding it.
I’ve looked everywhere.
Heh, it’s funny how people say “I’ve looked everywhere,” or “I’ve turned this place upside down,” but always seem to find it in a place where either they did not thoroughly check, or just never checked at all. I can say that I have indeed searched every nook, crevice and pocket in this box of an apartment, yet I still cannot find this vibrating cell phone. I’m starting to feel really frustrated.
I’ve heard it vibrate at least twenty times in the past five minutes. Who can it be, calling me that many times during the late night hours? I don’t know that many people, and the ones I do know, I hardly ever speak to on a daily, or even weekly basis. What could someone possibly want with me at this time? Could it be a telemarketer? Boy, would I love to give them a piece of mind if it is. I thought that don’t call people after business hours, so who could be sitting in a cubicle at one in the morning, calling people with the understanding that it’s late in the night, and people are most likely asleep? Now that I think about it, it couldn’t be a telemarketer at all.
I searched through the couch again, this time flipping the whole thing over, hoping that my phone just drops right out of a hidden pocket of the furniture, but I get nothing but pennies and paper from fortune cookies… and the vibrating noise continues, but from where? It’s bothering me.
Maybe it’s the woman from work? Yeah, that’s exactly who it is. The one who does payroll, she always makes sure to say hello to me when I walk pass her office. Maybe she felt something between us, and just had to call me late in the night to tell me. I’ve got to find this phone, or I may just blow my one shot at having a relationship with someone in over five years. God knows that I’m sick of being alone. I haven’t had a conversation with another human being in months, if you don’t count when my boss is chewing me out for not being able to focus on my job task and what not. I have to find this phone, it’s driving me crazy.
I flip furniture, toss dishes, empty boxes and tear through mail, and suddenly I could hear the vibrating better than before. I’m getting closer. It’s as if I was somehow connected to my phone, and I could feel it’s energy calling for me, hoping I’d find it soon. There must be so much there that I need to see. I began to think of all the e-mails that I may have gotten within the past hour. Maybe all of the attempted phone calls weren’t from one person. Perhaps I received many calls from many people. I wonder if someone sent me an add request on my social network page, or maybe I received a few text messages from some important people that somehow find me useful to their cause or business. I can’t help but think that I may be the winner of some big sweepstakes, and they are calling me right now, hoping I pick-up and claim the sixteen-million-dollar prize.
I must find this phone, It’s life or death.
I searched everywhere and found nothing, so I fell to the floor and sat in a meditative position, hoping I can recall the last time I had my phone, and where might I have placed it last. I remember trying to download a video, but the buzzer to the apartment entrance door rung, allowing me only a few short seconds to enter the facility, so i placed the phone in my pants pocket… THAT’S IT… MY PANTS POCKET!!!
How could I have been so stupid?
I banged my head up against the wall and laughed at how crazy I’ve been acting, and what mess I’ve made in trying to find a phone that has been in my pocket the entire evening. I reached into my pocket and felt relief once my hand grabbed what felt like my phone device. I began to check the phone, only to find out that it was dead… empty of battery power. A question mark pops up in my head at that point. I began to wonder exactly how long had my phone been powerless. Did it die just a few seconds ago?
I scramble to the nearest wall socket and connected my phone to the charger, but before I could, I heard a sound coming from… coming from… somewhere.
It’s pulsating… It was vibrating, just as my phone was.
I then realized that it was not my phone that had been vibrating, but another phone, somewhere within my small studio apartment. The concern, frustration and possibilities and built inside of me at once, driving me completely ape-shit crazy, tearing through everything, just to get closer to this vibrating phone that I cannot find. It’s not mine, but who’s could it be? No one has access to my place, NOBODY. Yet still, there are thoughts running through my head. Perhaps someone broke into my house. Perhaps my ex girlfriend found where I lived and left her phone here for us to talk late nights, while her current boyfriend was sleeping. Perhaps… perhaps… perhaps… perhaps… perhaps… perhaps… perhaps… perhaps…
When papers, gift items and furniture are torn through and destroyed, he began to tear through his apartment walls. Meanwhile, in the apartment below, A sleeping couple rest in their bed peacefully, only being disturbed by the sound of a phone vibrating on their end table, and against the wall.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting up soon?” the woman in bed asked her male partner. “You’ve hit the snooze button at least ten times now.”
© 2012 Christopher L. Bacon – firstname.lastname@example.org