[ Story Index Page ] I Want You Tonight
a short story by Cristalle Hayes I stood there, waiting.
I was ten minutes early, it was cold. Groups of people were standing around, huddled, trying to retain the warmth, also waiting. I saw this black figure walking up the hill, a face as cold as stone, chilled as the air around us. Our faces made no visible greeting as we met. I just followed, I kept my distance.
I found myself walking into a dark but warm bar. The air was thick with smoke and slurred conversation. We sat down at the back, our table void of drinks and ash. A large television screen hung on the wall above us blasting the latest tunes from MTV. I watched and waited, still making no reaction, I was desperately trying to make this exchange as emotionless as possible. It was over.
I had already known it but now my fears had been confirmed. I didn�t know what to say or do. I watched tears roll down a face, a hand fiddle with a lighter. We sat there, motionless, neither of us capable of speech.
The hour passed way too quickly. I felt panic rise in my chest as I looked at my watch. I felt claustrophobic. I wanted to leave, I wanted to be the first one to go, but I was scared. I was too scared to leave, as I knew that this was it. It was over. This fear kept me rooted in my chair. When we walked out, that would be the last time we would see each other. We walked out the bar together but we went off in completely separate directions. From above we must have looked funny. Like two black isolated figures, one walking up the hill towards the station and the other walking down the hill back to work. Neither of them sure when they were going to see each other again.
That was the heartache. Neither of them sure what to do, both lost without each other. I didn�t completely break down until I was sitting on the train. I focused hard on the blue pattern on the empty seat in front of me. I focused so hard that the pattern became interesting, fascinating.
I ignored everything around me. I was on my own in that packed train. I ignored the sympathetic glances towards the swollen red faced girl sitting clutching the last memories of her first love. I even ignored the sniggers and winks and smiles as people communicated on the train.
I felt empty but so full of this emotion that I had never felt before, I felt drained, pained and nauseous. But worst of all I felt alone. All my emotion went spiralling into blue and red shapes, turning three-dimensional, jumping out at me, reaching, and pulling me in. That night I laid in bed thinking, words formed in my head. I want you tonight, I want you to be sincere, and I want you. By my side, in my arms. I need to feel you, smell you, know that you are real. I rolled over, and there was nobody there. It was late and dark. I wasn�t tired, all I was - was alone.I sat down for dinner. We were seated in a circle, my dad on my left and my sister on my right, then my mum. They all noticed my red puffy eyes and smeared mascara but nobody said anything, they just continued eating.
I started to wonder as I sat there what would happen if we actually spoke. I started to realise how cold the atmosphere was, what would happen if we actually told each other how we felt. If dad told us what was going on behind his pale grey eyes, if he was happy or if he was scared, how would we react, would we show him the respect and sympathy he deserved or would we just continue eating in our normal cluttered silence?
I looked at my sister, I stared into her cold grey/green eyes that showed no other emotion but pain, they were so cold and emotionless. She did not avert her gaze into my eyes. Why was she so sterile towards me? Lastly I stared at my mother. Had she noticed? Had she noticed that I had spent the last two days crying and that the pain inside my heart was so bad? That my head ached with all these new thoughts? Did she care? She stared back; I tried to convey my thoughts into her mind, at the same time let her thoughts enter me. It did not work. I watched her bring her drink to her lips, red like blood. For once, couldn�t she keep her head clear? Maybe then I could speak to her. Every now and then the silence would be broken by short comments that held no relevance to me or to my life, it might as well have still been silent. I stood up and put my plate in the sink, thanked my dad for dinner, and began to walk out the kitchen to reside in my bedroom. I was always glad to walk out of the cold kitchen that reeked of red wine and smoke, and walk into my warm bedroom. It was always warming, it smelt good, it was gentle and it was my seclusion when I wanted to be alone. There was no hypocrisy, everything was real. But at this point I didn�t want to be alone so I switched on my computer and logged on to the Internet to see if any of my friends were online. You see, online was where I was myself, I was me, safe in the knowledge that I wasn�t going to get hassled for being me, there was going to be no prejudice, and I could talk to whoever I liked. �Miss Fly has logged on�
�Hey Elaine� (Elaine was my best friend from school)
�ello u! how r u doing?�
�not good, we broke up� (that was me)
�WHAT????�
�long story�
�r u ok?�
�errrrrr I�ll be fine babes, how r u doing?�
�good, I�m tired, too much work, fed up�
�I guess u are glad we have broken up� (they had never been friends)
� u didn�t need that person in ure life, they were no good for u, it is good that it is over. For the first time I thought that maybe she was right, I felt a slight pressure release off me.
�Andyyyyyy has logged on�
�hey girl, how is my favourite north londoner�
I sat there and stared at the screen, I was not in the mood for any more conversation.
�hey andy, ummmm I cant talk, ill ring u, ok�
�ok is everything alright?�
�well I guess the good news is im single again�
�oh dear, call me at 10 pm and we will have a chat, but its good they are out of ure life, please believe me.�
�yea I know andy, thanx, ill speak to ya soon�
I smiled to myself thinking how my �internet� friends showed more support and care than my family. No wonder I kept myself stuck up in my room.I logged off. I didn�t want to hold up the phone lines, just in case �someone� was trying to get through. Not that I cared. I watched the phone, waiting for it to ring, it never did. I spoke to Andy and then I went to sleep. I had a long conversation with Andy that night, one of those conversations where you discuss life, and death and generally everything. It was deep, but not deep enough to ease what was inside me, not deep enough to make me understand what was going on. When I did receive that phone call it was four months later. It was a Sunday. I was sitting on my floor desperately trying to finish off this essay that was due in Monday, it was getting late and I was not expecting the phone to ring. Consequently I found myself the next day at a doorstep, walking into a room that was dark, flickering black shadows on the walls, sweet smells of incense and a smoky mist.I was handed a letter and the black figure once again vanished into a kitchen, to escape. I read the words and felt them in my heart; it explained everything, everything that I had always known deep down. Promises were made, the drinking and especially the drugs were going to stop. This time there was an incentive, when there is a person in your life that important, so important you are willing to do anything to keep them, you will do anything, including going into detox and spending a gruelling week under sedatives unable to eat let alone drink or smoke. All we have to do is rebuild faith and trust. My friends don�t really understand why we got back together; the four months that had passed had made no difference to our feelings towards each other. The reasons for our break-up were the constant pain and worry. The guilt and the lies had to stop, things had to be changed. We had four months to sort out our heads and our hearts, we knew we had to let each other go, and now we had found our way back to each other. We laid next to each other in the dark, I rolled over and looked into eyes so deep and so beautiful. �Do you love me?� I asked.
�more than you know�, was the answer. Words reformed in my mind, �You are here with me tonight, you promised that you will be sincere. I want you, and you are here. You are by my side, in my arms. I can feel you, smell you, I know that you are real. When I roll over you are here; it is late and dark. I am still not tired but I am no longer alone.� The two black figures are now green and orange buzzing lights.
This story is based on real life.
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