Nothing is normal anymore

 I wrote this short story a long long time ago. 12 years ago to be precise. Here we go:

The phone rang again. She didn’t want to pick it up. It kept ringing. No way, she needs to pick it up. She was one of those people who can’t let a phone ring. But she doesn’t want to pick up this phone. She knew what will happen. It happened before. The phone kept ringing. Last time it rang for over an hour. Yes she knows this isn’t possible. Most phone systems cut the connection after a couple of minutes. But then the call wasn’t a normal call either. So no surprise that it kept ringing for one whole hour.

She left the room. Went out onto the balcony, lit a cigarette. Yes she started smoking again. When the calls started she started to smoke again. In the room, the phone rang. She could hear it through the sliding glass door. Like a mechanical toy. It rang and rang. She stared at the phone through the glass door. She thought she might as well keep it ringing and finish the cigarette. She didn’t enjoy the smoke but it gave her an excuse to leave the room. She saw her face in the glass door. Her hair looked awful. All streaky and greasy. She had rings under her eyes and her skin was grey. It looked even worse in front of the blue sky background in the glass. She could hear cars, people, birds and the phone ringing.

She went back inside. The phone was still ringing. How long is it ringing now? 10 minutes? 15? She went to the kitchen and switched on the kettle. She knew she didn’t want to pick up this phone. She knew she will pick up this phone. So she might as well have a tea before the unavoidable will happen. She was pouring the hot water over the tea bag. She finds it strange how the teabag belches with air, floats on top of the hot water like a body which is all bloated and was floating in the water for a long time. Someone should invent something which makes tea bags sink. Someone should invent something which makes a body sink. She can’t take her thoughts off sinking bodies and sinking tea bags.

The phone was still ringing. She wonders again like so many times before why none of the neighbours complains about it like they complained before about her loud music. Although her music wasn’t very loud. They still heard it. They must hear the phone. The guy which was her neighbour. He always bangs against the wall. She can actually hear him rummaging around in his flat. That thin were the walls. So he must hear the phone. He never said anything. Never nagged against the wall when it was ringing.

Is it already dark outside? What is the time? When did the phone start to ring. She can’t remember. All she can remember is the last time she picked up the phone. And the time before and before that. She doesn’t want to remember. But she does. She can’t get it out of her head. The  first time it happened she was in a happy mood. She was singing while she was doing the dishes. The neighbour banged on the wall. Everything was normal. This was the last time everything was normal.  After she picked up the phone, nothing was normal anymore.  First she didn’t really realise what was going on. She thought it was one of these situations when someone’s mobile phone switches on accidentally and dialled the last umber. She heard noise in the background. She listened to see if she can guess who it is. She concentrated on the background noise. Same sort of television or radio commentator talking about an accident. From then on nothing was normal anymore.

The phone was still ringing. She looked at the wall socket. She couldn’t believe it. She thought she unplugged the phone after the last time. Then she remembers, it didn’t make a difference. She unplugged it last time and it kept ringing. So she thought she might as well plug it back in. So it looks tidy and normal. She needs something in her life which looks normal. In her life. Right! That’s not normal either. Yes, nothing is normal since the first time.

She sits on the couch and stares at the ringing phone. Her tea is cold. The tea bag body sunk to the bottom of her cup. The tea looked muggy and brown and was far too strong. And it was cold. How long was she sitting there staring at the phone? She knew eventually she will have to pick up. There is no way around it. She could leave the flat and go for a walk. And then? She would have to return eventually. And she was sure, absolutely sure the phone would still ring when she returns. And it started raining anyway.

She was sitting there staring. Why? Why is it this way?  What went wrong? What really happened? She is not sure anymore what happened. She isn’t sure what is real and what not. The phone is real. The ringing is real. But what else? Was she real? Of course she was. How can an unreal person hear the neighbour snoring. Through the wall! And on the other side a television set. On full volume. It is the old lady who lives on the other side of her flat. She can’t hear anymore. She should actually bang against the wall. But then the old lady wouldn’t hear it anyway. She wishes she would be deaf. Then she wouldn’t hear the phone ringing. But she just knows that isn’t true. She would hear it. She doesn’t know why she knows. She just knows. It is not a normal phone call. Nothing is normal anymore.

She stood up and walked up and down the room. How can she get out of a situation like this? She knows she doesn’t want to do it and she knows she will eventually do it. Where is the way out of this? She knows what she will hear when she picks up the phone. She will hear the commentator again. It was the same last time. And the time before and before that. She lost count on how many phone calls she had and she forgot when exactly it started. She will hear the same noises when she eventually picks up the phone. She starts sweating again. She feels dirty and tired and exhausted.

She sits on the couch and stares at the phone. Her hand reaches out for the receiver but she doesn’t pick up. It rings and rings. She knows she will do it. She just knows. And then? She reaches for the phone. She feels dizzy and nauseous. She feels sick. She sweats a lot.  Her stomach feels sick. She hasn’t been eating  for quite some time. She pulls her hand back again. She is not ready yet. When was the last time when she had something to eat? When everything was normal?

She stands in front of the fridge and opens the door. It smells dead. It feels warm. Why is the fridge warm? A rancid smell streams out of the fridge. She stares inside. Into the dark box which once was a fridge and now is a warm stinking box. Her stomach revolts against the smells and the thoughts and she closes the fridge door. Normally she would call it a fridge. What do you call a warm box which smells as if a cat has died inside? Normally she would call it a fridge. But nothing is normal anymore.

She goes over to the coffee table with the phone. She picks up the phone. Does she really? Did it stop ringing? It is still ringing in her head. But she sees the phone’s receiver in her hand. Off the hook. She stares at the receiver. Why do they call it a receiver. She doesn’t want to receive anything. The phone still rings. She knew from last time it will ring until she put it to her ear and eventually receives the message. Just lifting this bonelike thing off the hook doesn’t help. Oh no! That would be too easy. Yes, normally the phone would stop ringing. Normally!

She sees herself lifting her arm, moving her hand towards her ear, holding the receiver. Should she say something. It doesn’t make a difference. Normally she would say something. She doesn’t now.  She just listens. She hears sounds, background sounds. Someone is rattling with plates or dishes or something. She can hear the television or is it a radio? She doesn’t know. She just sits there and listens.

She listens to the commentator in the background

“In the early hours of last Saturday a woman was found dead in her apartment. The cause of death is not yet clear but police suspects she died from a heart attack. But it is not yet clear who this woman is. The apartment was vacated since the owner, an elderly lady died in last March. There are some similarities between the body of the recent death and the deceased owner. One police officer was quoted with ‘It was really strange. I was here when the old lady died. The recent fatality just looks like a younger picture of her’. Authorities believe it might be a close relative of the deceased owner of the apartment  maybe her daughter. But her family say that she was living alone and that there is only one son.

Authorities also still look for an explanation for the abnormal position of the body. The body was found sitting on the couch and holding the phone receiver in her hand. The phone was switched off since the last 6 months as well as there wasn’t any power to the flat. ‘We don’t really know exactly what happened. The whole situation is a bit a mystery. None of the neighbours heard anything, nobody has seen her coming in.’ a police officer said.”