Broken Dreams

By: Ferretti

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Light spilled from the narrow doorway to the kitchen, helping the bright computer screen light the small living room. The streetlight outside the window had burned out the night before. A sigh emanated from the apartments one inhabitant as she looked over the computer at her reflection in the window.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard as another page of her ever-growing manuscript was pumped out. A bound paper copy was opened about halfway on the table next to her with red marks all down the page and a red pen sitting uncapped and waiting.

The typing sounds stopped and were replaced by muffled sobs as once again her situation hit her head on. She couldn’t seem to help it. She’d wanted this life for as long as she could remember. She was making more money than the rest of her family together, she lived in a great neighborhood and a decent apartment, though a little on the small side.

She got to travel all over the country and the world for her job. So why was she so unhappy all of the time? Sure ask anyone who worked with her or who was ‘friends’ with her and they’d tell you that she was the most upbeat and peppy person in the world who loved her job and had nothing missing.

Those people would be wrong. She wiped the tears from her face and picked up the phone next to her dialing a number that had been burned into her mind over ten years ago.

“ Hello?” The voice was tired, and with good cause considering it was almost midnight.

“ Wrong number.” She whispered, hanging the phone back up. It wasn’t who she’d wanted to answer. It was his wife instead. Taking a deep breath her fingers resumed their flight over the keyboard as she worked out another page.

She jumped as the phone rang, shrilling into the night. “ Yes?” She questioned timidly when she picked it up.

“ Kate you have to stop calling here.” The voice was one she missed, had dreamed about.

Kate didn’t say anything, simply held onto the phone like a lifeline as thoughts whirled through her head. She’d been doing this on a consistent basis, maybe twice a week, for the past seven years.

“ Kate it isn’t healthy, for you or for me. I’m married now. I have children. Kate answer me.”

“ I’m sorry.” She whispered as tears threatened to boil down her cheeks.

“ You always are. If you call here again I’m going to press charges. Get over it Kate.”

“ No please. Please don’t hang up.” Kate cried, clutching the phone tighter. A sigh answered her plea and told her he was going to wait for at least a few moments. “ I didn’t have a choice.”

“ Everyone has a choice. Your choice was to stop fighting. Lissa told me that you got that job in New York you wanted. I’m glad you’re doing so well for yourself.” Kate clamped a hand over her mouth to quiet the sobs. “ I’m married now Kate. You have to move on. I have.”

Kate’s plea was over-ridden by the dial tone as she was hung up on. The phone dropped from her hands, banging against the floor as her face was buried into her palms.

The next morning Kate’s friend found her that way.

“ I told you not to take the easy way.” Lissa whispered before moving to read the last page on the computer.

No matter what you say Lissa this isn’t the easy way. You don’t know how hard it is to do this. Anyway, I have a favor to ask. I know I ask a lot of you but just this one more thing. Print out my story, make sure there are enough pages of paper in the printer and then give it to my boss.

Tell him it was my last wish for this thing to get published if he thinks its good enough. Also, leave this note in here. I think it’s not fair to readers to be left with a cliff hanger when the writer can’t keep writing. I talked to him last night, first time I’ve really talked to him in, oh god, what? Four years?

Ever since I found out that he was married I’ve been in a state of shock. To think that that could have been me if I hadn’t of listened to my parents. I took the easy way out back then, not now. What I did then was stupid and what I’m doing now is stupid.

I love you Lissa, you’ve been the best friend anyone could ever dream of. You know, if we’re both lucky this may not be the end. Who knows, maybe you got here early and are able to get me to the hospital in time. Either way it doesn’t matter. My stories finished and it’s time for someone else’s to start.

Love,

Kate