Ultimate Short Story: Galvanize

Alice asked me to post my short story on the blog, so now I am. Two blogs in one night, double whammy. For those of you looking to comment on blog posts, have a frenzy here! 


Anyway, here we go: 

Galvanize

By Larissa Darrah

“I had always considered myself to be drawn by oddities in life,” the soft, male voice echoed through the sparsely furnished room. It was only the ghost of a voice, but it caused tears to painfully twinge Roxanne’s eyes.  His voice came from the simple recording device that sat in the middle of the table in front of her, beside a stack of papers, on them written a story. It was his story, but it was also her story. 

The voice continued, “I visited a local 7/11 earlier tonight, struggling to write for a deadline. She, Roxanne, was arguing with the cashier about the price of the cigarettes.” 

That night was still so clear in her mind. It was one of the seldom nights during those times she had been sober enough to remember the events. She had gone to buy cigarettes only to find she did not have enough money to buy them, being only a few dollars short. When he, Jonathan, had walked in she had been telling the cashier that she could pay later. The cashier didn’t like that idea. Just when Roxanne was about to start shouting obscenities, Jonathan placed an energy drink on the counter and a bill that would pay for his purchase with plenty left over.

“Use the change for the cigarettes,” He had said to the cashier and then smiled at Roxanne. 

Moments later, they were outside, leaning against the building. They spoke of trivial things, small talk. Roxanne felt it was the best she could do as she puffed on the cigarette he had paid for in part. 

“Do you have a place to stay?” He had asked, almost suddenly. Roxanne was sure there was some sort of lead into the question, but that part of the conversation seemed to escape her.

“Of course I do, what do you think I am, some kind of hobo?” There has been no amusement in her voice. “I’m leaving,” She had stated plainly. 

“Uh, wait,” Jonathan stammered, “If you even need any…. Uh, y’know, help, or anything, here is my phone number.” He then handed her the piece of paper with the numbers etched on it and she left.

The voice recorder’s thoughts of the event interrupted her memory, “I knew I needed to keep her somehow. It was like her heart was calling out for help.” There was a short pause, signalling a new vocal entry, “It’s been about a week. Roxanne called me yesterday. We went for coffee.” 

Roxanne smiled. The joy in his voice brought the memory of his face when they met outside the coffee shop. He seemed surprised that she was able to look like a decently dressed woman, which was quite the change from the raggedy she had worn when they first met. The coffee meeting had been a pretty normal event. It was just two adults meeting to get to know one another better. The meeting, however, seemed much more important to Jonathan.  

“I told her everything,” the voice recorder said, “I told her my worries about writing and my dreams of becoming famous. I told her about my sister, my parents. Roxanne just sat there, listening. She told me her profession, a taboo profession. Roxanne sold her body to the men her boss gave her. She told me she had no other dreams, that it was what she wanted to do. I didn’t believe her.” 

The recordings lasted over a few months, documenting their dates and the progress of their relationship. Roxanne listened intently, hearing his voice slowly becoming more and more troubled with each entry. The more he got to know Roxanne, the more pain it caused him. She had gone down a dark path that was difficult to pull someone out of without sacrificing your own wellbeing. Roxanne hadn’t seen the pain she’d been causing him, but the breaking of his voice now caused her pain, her stomach muscles knotting. It was only now that Roxanne felt guilty for forcing Jonathan to deal with a girlfriend who sold herself and was addicted to heroin. 

 

“I have to stop her,” The voice choked out, “It may seem deranged for me to deal with this rather than walking away from it. If it were any other woman, I would have walked away. This is Roxanne though, Roxanne is not like any other woman and she needs me. She needs me to sacrifice my own life to rescue her from herself.” 

“She’s not doing well,” his broken voice could hardly be heard behind the desperate sobs of herself, muffled by a bedroom door, “She’s vomiting, but she’s not eating. She doesn’t sleep and sometimes she just lays there and stares. Watching her makes me feel as if I’m being torn limb from limb.” 

There is another pause to signal a new entry, “She’s eating again, and she even looks at me with recognition now. Roxanne and I have been through a few horrendous months, but I think she thanks me for what I’ve done.”

Once Roxanne had gotten over her withdraws, a time that she had since forgotten, she could finally see the hurt in Jonathan’s eyes. This was a man who had bitten off more than he could chew and Roxanne had felt like she was being torn limb from limb as the sparkle that once graced Jonathan’s eyes seemed to leave. 

“She’s done with that life. I know it in my heart Roxanne wants nothing more than to leave what she now believes is toxic. She’s gone back to take her things. I don’t trust them though; I don’t think they’ll let her leave that easily and I think she knows that as well. Just look at how much work they put into tearing her down. I won’t let them harm her anymore. I love Roxanne and I will tell her that with my last breath.”

The tape ends there. That was the last entry Jonathan ever made into his recorder. 

He followed her that night, to the place where her possessions and former boss were. All would have gone well, she would have been in and out without him knowing, but someone had told him she was there. Just as she was stepping back onto the sidewalk, he was coming out after her. He was larger in stature, and could definitely outrun her and use his bare hands to stop her from leaving. 

The street was empty that night, and it was cold and would have been lonely if Roxanne hadn’t of been thinking about her freedom with Jonathan. With a strong hand, she was forced to look at the boss, his face near hers and the barrel of the guns pressed to the side of her head. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he screamed in her face. He told her she couldn’t leave, that he would kill her if she even thought of it.

“I’m willing to take that risk,” she had said, only to receive the metal of the gun into the side of her face, sending her to the ground. There was the copper taste of blood on her tongue as she looked up at her boss. 

The gun was pointed at her head and Roxanne closed her eyes. She waited for the metal to tear through the skin of her head and skull to lodge into her brain, sending her to her death. The crack the gun ripped through the night air, but death didn’t come to her. Roxanne heard a gentle thump on the sidewalk, followed by the padding of feet across the pavement. Opening her eyes, she saw the boss running, his body displaying nothing but fear as he padded up the stairs and slammed the door behind him. Her eyes fell to the body in front of her. Across the blue denim of the man’s jacket was the hastily spreading blood, as quick as the puddle that formed below him. 

She was by Jonathan’s side in an instant, his head lying in her lap. Roxanne took her sweater off and pressed against the wound, desperately attempting to stop the bleeding. She couldn’t stop the bleeding, or the tears. Roxanne felt his hand on her cheek and she looked down at him, his face a weary variation of a man she had met only months prior. Jonathan’s thumb swiped a tear from Roxanne’s cheek and gave her a comforting smile.

“I love you,” Jonathan choked out, letting out a long breath as his body fell limp.