Keres Isle
August 15 2006
1:39 a.m.
Ring...ring...
Marissa Calhoun burst out of the nightmare to the annoying sound of a phone ringing. Lately, the dreams had been coming more often. Warily, she looked around the room, her heart still thundering in her chest. Remembering her phone, she shook her head, took a deep breath and yawned, reaching over to her nightstand to answer the demanding tone. Her hand caught air.
Glaring, she mumbled curses under her breath as she threw the plush comforter off of her body and slipped out of the small twin bed. Standing, she looked for the object that had awakened her from the affair.
Ring....ring...
"Hold on a goddamn minute will ya?" she said to no one in particular. Grumbling, she walked the few steps to the small pile of clothes she discarded on the floor last night and shifted through it, looking for the futile thing. Picking up the khakis she wore last night, she gave them a shake until her phone fell to the floor with a loud clatter.
"Shit." Reaching down, she fumbled for her phone, groping in the darkness. Finding it, she stood up straight, touching the screen to show the caller ID. Big bold letters stood out in the darkness that surrounded her.
UNKNOWN.
Hesitating, she grasped the phone her hand, contemplating on turning it off. Shaking her head, she held the phone to her ear and pressed the little green button that would connect her with whoever it was calling her.
"Hello?" she grumbled, agitation seeping through her. Now that she thought about it, she probably shouldn’t have answered. When no one answered, she asked again, this time louder.
"Marissa? Is that you?" a hushed male voice asked. Jumping at the sound, she placed her hand over her heart, as if trying to slow its speeding pulse. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Her nerves were already frayed from the dream so it was no surprise when her knees began to weaken.
"Who is this?" She asked when her knees gave out. Sinking onto the side of the bed she waited for...something. There was a brief hesitation before he answered.
"It's Colt." Marissa almost dropped the phone in shock. The last time she had seen Colt was nearly three years ago when they had had a big blow up. After that little incident that night in the kitchen, she hadn't heard from him. She could remember that horrible night when Colt had walked out of her life, and in the process he had shattered her hopes of a future together with him. She sighed before answering.
"If it's about money Colt, you know I can't help you." She muttered. She had worked for what little she had and she would give it to a homeless person before she would give it to him.
"No...It’s not about money Marissa.” he answered. For a moment she actually felt sorry for being angry at him for all these years. Then she remembered all the hell he had put her through.
Without knowing it, she started pacing the room, running her free hand through her short strawberry blonde hair. After Colt had walked out of her life, she went and got it cut it into a short bob and had kept it that way ever since. She would be damned if he would control her life any longer. Her freedom ment everything to her and she would never give it up again.
Her long legs seemed to carry her from one side of the room to the other in no time. At 26, she was tall for her age and she knew it, she just didn't like to admit it. Standing 5'9, she was taller than most the guys she had dated, though it was a short list. She rarely had time for herself, much less a date. What little gossip she did manage to hear was from her co-workers. Even though she didn't really care about gossip, she did listen to it every now and then. She had heard from one of her friends at work that Colt had become a very successful man in the three short years after he left.
After Colt had joined with the company he works at, Masson and Co., it didn't take long till the job started taking its toll on him and he went into a depression and started drinking. At first, Marissa didn't think too much of it, until the night when he had dropped a shot glass on the floor in their kitchen, too drunk to care. Marissa had slid on the broken glass cut her foot open when she ran into the kitchen to see what had happened. That was the night when he had grabbed his coat and walked out the door. That was also the night she had sworn she would never give herself completely to another man. Tears formed in her eyes as she remembered that night her life lay shattered around her.
It's the same again with the "and". I just felt it flowed a little smoother with that connective, but I'd say it's just personal preference.
Keep it up!