Info: This short story was also written for a contest on a forum. However, something happened and it was never posted - because the contest mysteriously died down and nobody explained to me what was going on. I'd turned this in already, so the contest holder has a copy of it. I didn't want to put it here before the contest was over, but it's been a month since deadline now and I don't think anything is going to happen. And so, I'm putting it up. It's all mine so I'd better not catch anyone claiming it as their own work!

Summary: What is real and what is important? And what does forgetting the answer to the previous question bring with it? This is another one of those tragic, psychological one-shots I'm so fond of. I hope you enjoy it, or that it at least leaves a mark. I would also like you to ask yourself who the real Billy here is.

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“Billy”
by Starflow

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A muffled thumping sound bounded down the stairs. It was soon blocked out by a pair of non-receptive ears. The clock on the wall was loudly striking second after another, ticking towards seven o’clock. This noise, too, was denied. The artificial private silence was only broken by a melodramatic sigh. A hidden figure leaned forward to get a closer look. Billy merely shrugged after shooting a quick stare in the direction of the staircase behind him. The air was brimming with anxiety.

“Fine, go,” said Billy. “I’m not going to miss you.”

He was thinking aloud with a masterful look of indifference on his face. After giving a dry laugh, he picked up a glass of brandy and raised it. He focused on it, turned it around and watched subtle ripples spread on its surface.

“I’ll be better off without you, Larissa. You’ll see. And then you’ll come crawling back to me,” he added to himself. Billy was confident, almost amused.

A series of uneven, heavy steps shook the stairs. They sounded unrefined. Inappropriate. Endangering the mood ever further, they wouldn’t stop. Instead, they were soon followed by more thumps. Hard plastic met old wood. The clanging grew insufferable. It had to stop, soon. It shouldn’t have appeared in the first place.

As Larissa came into the scene, the noises settled down and faded away. The figure peeking in hardly even noticed how a suitcase was carried to the door behind her. Instead, she drew even closer to observe Larissa, who was looking suspicious and tense.

“Billy.”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“I’m leaving now,” said Larissa in a strange tone of voice. It didn’t sound like her at all. It was almost as if she was speaking in stereo. Something had to be up, but Billy didn’t seem to mind at all. Instead, he spoke.

“Just go. Think twice before closing the door behind you.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright? Don’t you want me to call somebody?”

“If you close that door, it may remain shut to you. Even if you do come back, which I’m sure you will.” Billy took a sip from the glass he was holding. Billy loved brandy, it was his greatest passion. Second only to Larissa. Now that she was leaving it would be his number one. The woman looking in couldn’t help smiling to herself – Billy was so amazing.

“Hello? Are you listening to me?”

“Godspeed, my sweet.”

“You can call me if you get lonely.”

Billy acted as if he didn’t hear the words. The outsider, however, found Larissa’s behaviour to be extremely unusual. The voice was off and the choice of words was all wrong. Just as the woman was wondering if she had missed something important, the sound of footsteps emerged again. It was loud and painful to the ears. Out of place. The suitcase was picked up again and everything ceased. There was no movement, no words, nothing. For a short while, the merciful silence returned. It was soon destroyed, as the same footsteps could be heard again, in the background. Billy was holding his head high in spite of his defeat.

And the door was opened with a soft click. The suitcase was carried through. The clock on the wall suddenly hit seven. An old gong went off inside it, so loud that it drowned out the sound of the door being closed. It had always been a very irregular gong that sometimes sounded alive. It often sang short verses. This time, it was repeating a single word,

“Goodbye.”

On this moment, the screen went black. Music started to play and words in white rolled upwards. The credits. The woman blinked and heaved a sigh. Billy was so brave and confident, he didn’t even wince when Larissa left. The woman herself was different. She wished she could have faced setbacks like Billy. Or better yet, that she could have been Billy.

Getting up from her favourite chair, where she always sat and watched Billy, the woman glanced up the stairs. She was certain that Alex would appear soon – it was late, after all. They always ate dinner together at half past seven, when the only flight out of their cosy small town took off. They lived near the airport. It was tradition.

She sat back down. To kill some time, she decided to watch the talk show where “Billy” was being interviewed. Just for a moment. Surely, Alex would soon come down.

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Fin.

Leave me a note, if you would. I'd be interested in hearing what people think of this little one.