Short Story: 'The Loop'

by Sami Littlefair

05:45

His face held a puzzled expression, as he exclaimed the words ‘I’ve told you before. She’s at 5 Maris Gardens’. I managed to withhold this information as it clouded anything else that was being feebly guarded by my weakened mind, and I ran, I ran with as much force as my tired, burning legs could muster. All I wanted was an answer; nothing else mattered anymore. The towering cynical black gates eventually came into my impaired view, and my mind immediately lodged it as something familiar, as if I had been here before. I had to stop. My aching body almost collapsed from the force of halting my movement, but it just about mustered up the strength to remain standing. The relentless pounding of my heart started to speed up to rates I didn’t know were in the realms of reality; and with this I inevitably edged sheepishly towards the gates. They were wide open, as if beckoning me in; and I absorbed another stab of recollection toward the gates, but my mind was not healthy or fresh enough to attempt to link them to a memory. I felt my soul being lifted from me as I trudged through the dense field that felt so familiar. Even a signpost noting ‘Treile gardens’ couldn’t help to bring my memory to a clarity of thought. Everything in my limp body felt heavier, and all tasks became a challenge rather than a subconscious action. Left foot forward. Right foot forward. My head and mind fixated on these simple burdens of the body. 

That’s when it appeared before me. The final blow. I collapsed, folded and crumpled mentally and physically all in desolate tandem. I had to leave. I aggressively  began to crawl away, still attached to the earth, desperate with every part of my body to leave the nightmare which felt like an endless loop; entrapping and suffocating me down to the last conscious fragment of my soul. I eventually stumbled across a hooded figure who I again recognised, but couldn’t link to anything. He brandished what I deduced to be some pills and a sharp looking needle. I felt an indescribable feeling of safety and security towards these seemingly familiar items, and I had no paths left in my life; no choices I could leisurely ponder over. This was it. 

In memory of Rose Lucinda Travetti

Born 5th of January 1957

Died 12th of March 1983

R.I.P

17:00

I decided on 2 sprays of the special aftershave. I varied between 1 and 2 depending on the occasion, but I had a good feeling about the night, so I sacrificed that extra spray to help me out. Johnny was late as usual, and his excuse range widened even further than I thought he was capable of. ‘Stuck behind a duck’ is what spilled out of his embarrassed mouth this time. Laughing off his comment, we soon arrived at the party. I was feeling less enthused than usual, so I queasily stumbled towards the general direction of a different room. Then she came. The overriding centrepiece of my life from that moment on. Swiftly gliding through the room effortlessly towards me like the gentle stream of flowing water, she sat beside me, with this provoking an implosion of something inside me, a dangerous mixture of nerves and excitement which I had never felt before.  My depleted energy returned to me in full force, and the night mysteriously seemed to speed up, as if it had been tampered with. We talked. She became more strongly bound and woven to my character. My life felt like an immaculate fairytale, chosen to be the lucky one who partakes in the narrative. It felt almost unfair, almost surreal; like I had been gifted too much.

22:30

As we were enjoying another walk through the endless fields of Treile, I caught her eye for a fleeting moment as she glanced my way, covered in a perfect smile from ear to ear. I was taken aback suddenly as if I had been struck square in the chest. It flooded my mind all at once and from then on I realised she was everything. An all engulfing experience and being. Everything from her brilliant blue eyes gazing softly into me, her wavy blonde hair appearing particularly golden near the front in this light, contrasting the deeper tone of a purer, richer blonde moving down, flowing effortlessly between each other, to her powerfully addictive character and demeanour, blindly drawing me in like a moth to flame. I took a brief moment to process this feeling, as my body left me no other choice due to the pure nature and power of the moment. Subconsciously, I stepped towards her, my mind set on protecting this priceless feeling, and cementing it into me. We embraced, and I found myself holding her as if it was the last time. There was nothing more important than preserving whatever this was. Goosebumps immersed me, and we continued our walk, without a word more spoken; as all that I wanted to say was shaped by emotion.

05:30

A blinding wave of confusion and exhaustion engulfed me, as I felt a piercing shiver bind to my body and slowly ripple excruciatingly from head to toe. My hands and feet felt internally drenched in a chilling sweat, stripped to their bare core of primal movement, shivering up and down calmly, with any mental ligament control ripped away. I meekly attempted to lift my head up, counteracted by my body physically punishing me in a retaliation against my mind, enforcing a sharp stab of pain resulting in an uncontrolled collapse to my previous state. Heavy batches of time passed before I attempted to perform the seemingly impossible task of regaining active consciousness in my soul, with every attempt ending in desolate failure. I eventually persuaded my body to force through this repulsive state, and I feebly peered around the room I was in to check for imminent danger. Once I had a vague idea that I was safe, I heaved my aching body into a distorted state of incongruent movement. The task of trekking to the bathroom was unquestionably unachievable, and my body was persistently begging to be let free, so I nonchalantly slumped back into my sweat-filled tip of a bed. That’s when 2 things struck me, seeming to be inextricably linked; firstly that there was a half-opened plastic box with what seemed to be coloured pills scattered all around the room, along with two small half-empty needles on my bedside table, containing clear liquids, inapparent if identical or merely visually similar. 

The second thing was my other half. Rose. Where was she? 

Panic rapidly set in, as I regained my energy, just as I had that night when I first met her. Scrambling desperately around my room, I bunglingly stuck the closest clothes I could find in my closet onto my heavily panicking body and rushed to the door to hunt for answers. Where do I go? My first coherent thought amidst the cloud of trepidation meekly suggested my neighbour, John. I almost knocked down his door with my heavy thumping of fists using the fragments of strength my body still withheld, my heart beating out dense thumps of its own. His face held a puzzled expression, as he exclaimed the words ‘I’ve told you before. She’s at 5 Maris Gardens.’