It slipped Chuck's mind to do 'Flash Fiction Friday' last week. So, I thought to have a go at doing one myself. This week, I'm not well. I have Laryngitis... yep, I can't talk to anyone for a while and have a nagging cough to boot! So here's a story based on my illness.
enjoy.
“I’m afraid to say,
but you have Laryngitis – it’s a slight case – but I don’t want you talking to
anyone or leaving your house for anything for the next three days.” The gruff-looking
doctor said as he typed on the keyboard.
I couldn’t believe
it.
After going to the
class reunion, I thought my ticklish throat wasn’t anything to worry about –
but waking up without a voice yesterday was horrible. Mum was worried sick
about me; and urged me to head off to the doctors today.
So, there I had it,
I wasn’t allowed to be anywhere near people, not allowed to talk and so there
goes my singing career in my shower. My life is going to become very quiet if I
can’t answer the phone; which gives screening my calls a whole new meaning
(yeah, I screen them for telemarketers – but then, I’ll have to get onto
Facebook and tell my friends that I’ve lost my voice – again! – and to either
text me or talk to me on messenger on Facebook… thank the Gods for that
invention, right?).
I arrive home,
follow my doctor’s orders and don’t talk to anyone. But the cough it horrible…
I sound dreadful. It’s just the irritation of the virus that’s attacking my
vocal cords; and it feels horrible. So, I make myself some nice Green Tea and
settle in with a book for the afternoon… yep, this is a good time to catch up
with my reading.
After I’ve made
dinner, baked up the best batch of scones I’ve ever made in my life (why is it
that this happens only when I’m sick), whipped some fresh cream up with a whisk
and settled in to watch a movie, I hear a noise outside that doesn’t sound like
a possum.
Out of habit I pick
up the phone. Exactly what am I going to do with that? I’m not allowed to speak
– not that I can get any sound out anyway. So, putting down the phone, I picked
up the waterproof torch and my mobile and sussed out what was going on.
I didn’t need the
torch, I could see from the darkness of my front door that somebody was trying
to break into a car in the parking lot. Opening my phone, I called the police
and waited for them to answer just as I turned the torch onto the would-be
burglar.
At the soft sound of
somebody talking, the man turned around, “Who the fuck are you?” he blurted
holding a metal bar in his right hand.
I stepped back,
shining the torch in his face and the phone down by my side, facing out, so the
police could hear him.
“What? You stupid?”
I shook my head.
“You’re not talkin’
so you must be.” He snorted.
The phone said something
and I heard it hang up. Damn. They probably didn’t hear anything going on. I
hesitated just before I turned and ran from him towards my house, pulled the door closed (locking myself out)
and kept on running along the darkened unit complex.
“Come here you
bitch!” he shouted, his footsteps approaching from behind.
I still had the
torch on and I used it like a baton, swinging it up and down, shining it
everywhere to get people’s attention – but the shit thing was that nobody came
out of their houses.
I redialed the
police, this time I’d talk to them.
“Hello, fire,
police, ambulance? Which one do you need?”
My voice was almost
non-existent as I ran and cold night air invaded my lungs, “Police. Hurry!”
“Okay, just a
moment.”
“Don’t have a moment…”
I said, “Don’t have a voice.”
“Okay…” I heard him
say and another took over, “Logan Police, how can I help you?”
“Being chased. Kingston
Road. Inside unit complex… near fire station next to Puma. Hurry! I’m scared!”
I panted then started to cough as I came to the pedestrian gate and dropped the
torch to press the button to get out. But…
…as I turned, he was
there…
…blocking it!
“Whodja call?” he
asked.
I shook my head.
“Why don’t you
speak?”
A coughing fit
caught me and I curled up on my side, sitting on the ground. Still I shook my
head.
“What the fuck is
wrong with you!”
I found ‘Notebooks’
on my apps on my phone, pulled up a new page and wrote ‘Laryngitis’ on it, ‘Can’t
talk’
He smiled, “Well,
then, you wouldn’t have been able to call the cops then?” he raised his arm
with the bar, ready to strike me hard.
I shook my head as
tears welled in my eyes; my gut turning cool… I felt sick at the idea of what
he was going to do to me.
Behind him, one of
the tenants from unit 1 came out slowly from her car port and placed metal object
on concrete to let a car in. As the car came in, two people walked in after it…
these two people walked straight up behind the man and grabbed him, “Drop it!”
“She would never
have said anything! Not after I’d beaten her.”
The cop shook his
head, “Dude, you’re the one who’s sick – and I mean in the head.”
