Spoiler
The story is for a contest and basically it examines the mental illness: compulsive obsessive disorder. However, instead of simply showing the mental illness through the character's action, I tried to show it in the style. I often gave my works a sense of weirdness to it, and in here it is the repetition of the ending and the beginning. Alongside are the imagery to indicate the character's mentality.
A thin-faced dirty blonde woman cried, rubbing the tears that weren't hers. He had told Arissa to cry for him because he wouldn't be there when she woke up.
She wiped her tears until she was able to see past her bedroom window to where a boy pushing a wheelbarrow on the street. On it was a girl, carrying a fat blue bear in her arms, facing its back against her?
At quarter past ten the phone rang an intervention to her brunch. As it got louder, it felt like one of those sudden sensations of falling in a dream: unpredictable and at the same time, unnerving.
Arissa held the spoon tightly in her hand. Where was Tom when she needed him? Where was he to answer the phone? He had always remained calm when he approached the phone.
The phone was located across the kitchen, blocked by three chairs and the dining table positioned upside down. She had always wanted to do this to find out the type of eating routine with this kind of design. She also considered redecorating the living room, and had already started to plan only if the phone's ringing had not butted in to her thoughts.
She fumed, fingernails biting the soft flesh into her palms. The phone was already at its fifth ring, and she had asked herself whether or not to answer it.
“Should I answer the phone? Tom would appreciate it.” She asked herself.
“But what if it was a stranger?” She replied.
“It couldn't be, could it? It’s Tom.”
“But I don't even know if it Tom. It’s a stranger. Yes.”
“What do they want from me? What shall I answer? What if it was the police? Had I done something wrong or what if Tom was in trouble?”
“But I don't even know where Tom went.”
“Then who is it. Shall I answer it?”
“No.”
“But it could be Tom.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Decide already please!”
“No.”
“Yes.”
At the twelfth ring, the ringing stopped. She sensed a sudden surge of relief entering her mind- but there was something wrong. Her nails continued to dig into her flesh. Tom was gone. That was it. The identity of the caller had not been found. Arissa held her head, asking herself once more whether or not the caller was Tom.
“It was Tom. I knew it.” She pondered.
“How do you know?” She replied, confused.
“Maybe he wanted to see how I was doing. It was him. It was him.”
“But what if it wasn't?”
Arissa counted to seventeen, waiting for the phone to ring again, repeating it whenever the phone had not responded. By the twelfth time, there was a knock on the door. It wasn't coincidence, she thought, because it was at the same number that both the ringing and her counting had stopped. What was going on? Was Tom playing a game? He couldn't because... because he was Tom. Then if it wasn't him, who was it?
She brushed her thoughts away, walking to the front door that was block by a coffee table, four stools and a large portrait.
“Tom, you're back. I knew you came back for me.”
“Arissa, I'm not Tom.”
She stepped back, looking at the intruder standing by the doorway. It was her, Arissa thought, Tomato Head. She knew her when Tom introduced her a couple years ago. She heard that the three of them had been childhood friends along with two other people she knew little about. She didn't knew much of Tomato Head herself or whether she was indeed friends with her. Her red hair bore some familiarity, however.
Arissa looked at the intruder, pulling her cheek in case it was a mask, “You're not Tom, are you?”
“I'm your Mom.” She brushed away her hand.
“Really….”
Tomato Head snickered, “This might be fun, but no. I'm not your mom.”
“Then who are you?”
“You've got to be kiddin' me, Arissa.” She lowered her head before patting Arissa's shoulder. “Let me tell you slowly. My. Name. Is. Maya. Don't tell me you forgot your best friend. You have taken your medicine, right?”
Tomato Head was acting a little weird almost as if she had done something wrong. Mom would have never done that which meant that she lied. She was trying to trick her, possibly a part of her ploy to separate her and Tom- but why? she thought.
“So can I come in or what, Arissa? You don't want your guest waiting.”
Arissa looked at her. “Had Tom invited you to come in?”
“Like everything else, yes.” She began to laugh. What was her problem? “So don't stare at me like a loony and take your medicine while I fixed the mess you made.”
Without a moment thought, Arissa spun around and stretched her arm to welcome her inside.
What was going on? Had Tom actually sent her here or had she come in on her own? Tom told Arissa that Tomato Head was her best friend until she moved town eight years ago, but that was ages ago. A lot had happened, and the Tomato Head she may have known couldn't be the same person within her household.
Arissa gazed at her intently as she watched a cooking show. It featured a couple: a large woman with side curls and a bald man in his early fifties. They were pointing to a fresh snapper, and told their viewers that they were preparing some sort of dish that she couldn't pronounce.
“When Tom comes back, you should tell him to watch this show. It will improve his cooking skills.”
“What Tom makes is fine. He makes delicious food.”
“Like what? Baked beans and corned beef? He seriously needs to cook. He's just lucky that I cooked for him so that he wouldn't have to worry when he came back from work.”
“You cooked for him?!” Arissa sat up straight, facing Tomato Head.
“We're buddies anyway.” She pushed Arissa back to the sofa. “Don't worry; I'm not starting an affair,and neither is he.”
It was a shock, a poke in the eye, to realize that most of the food she had eaten were made by Tomato Head. No, that couldn't be right. Tom could cook. She had seen him do it a few times before. Tomato was lying, trying to deceive her so that she could have Tom for herself.
She watched as the large woman lifted the snapper into a chopping board. The man grabbed a knife, and glided it gently against it scales. She watched intently as he lifted the blade on its head before he beheaded the poor creature.
Arissa jerked back, closing her eyes, and avoided any thought of the fish being chopped into pieces. When Arissa opened her eyes, moments later, she stared at Tomato Head. There was a grin on her face, teeth revealing, when she witnessed the fish turned into squares. When she looked back at the screen and saw the same expression on the couple, she knew now what was her true intent was.
“She's going to kill me,” she whispered. There was no way that she was sitting with her killer.
“She's going to kill me,” she repeated faster, an arm intently searched the floor for any weapon. When Tomato Head laughed after the TV host had said something, Arissa followed suit because she wanted to avoid any suspicion from her killer.
Arissa couldn't simply stand up or move away from her because Tomato Head might suspect that she would defend herself. No! Arissa must stay calm and follow anything what Tomato Head was doing until.... She found it. She found something to defend herself. A pen might not be the best weapon but still a tool to injure someone.
“You're going to kill me! I know now what you are plotting!” She stood up, and held the pen with both hands before her.
“Kill?” Tomato Head turned her around, arching a brow.
“You heard me. You're going to kill me.”
“Kill you? You have taken your medicines, haven't you?” She stood up, and tried to walk to her. Arissa jerked back pointing the pen at Tomato Head.
“No. I have seen through your plot Tomato Head. You are going to drug me, and behead me like that fish in the show.”
“Tomato Head, that's a classic.” She began to chuckle, taking off her hat.
“Listen to me, Tomato Head!” Arissa demanded, moving closer to the other girl.
She continued to laugh, holding her belly. “That was far better than the nickname, 'Pepper girl', you gave me last summer.”
“Shut up! I will kill you. I will if you keep doing this. I don't want to do this but it is for my and Tom's own good.”
“Where do you get your ideas from, Arissa?” Tomato Head continued to laugh.
She's scared. Arissa knew it because she had found herself laughing after she woke up from a nightmare once. She gulped, walking to Tomato Head and pressing the pen against her throat. “Shut up, Maya! I'm serious!”
Arissa woke up, her mind in utter chaos, as she sat on her bed facing the window. It was night; she could tell by the fluorescent light of the room, and the lamp post illuminating outside. Out on the street, a boy was pushing a wheelbarrow. On it was a girl carrying a teddy bear that was pointing to her bedroom window.
“How is she, Tom?” She heard a few murmurs from outside. Her eyes felt heavy, even after she had slept for a number of hours but it had not mattered. Tom had told her to take some medicines, and she did so. He was back. Arissa could not help but smile. He was back.
“She’s asleep. How about you? I'm sorry if things went this drastically.” His voice was almost dreamlike.
“Drastic? She almost killed me! I thought she was joking, but no. She bloody threatened me with a pen, of all things! Lucky you came before things got dirty.”
“You intimidated her again didn't you, Maya?”
“Intimidated? I haven't intimidated her one bit?”
“Are you sure?”
“You know what, Tom? You almost sound a bit like her. No wonder you two make a pair.”
All alone in her room, she kept her face near the window, watching as the wheelbarrow faded from her sight. She smiled gently now that Tom was here and he could take care of Tomato Head. There was nothing to worry- except to express her disappointment on not completing her redecoration but there would be more chances. She could do it tomorrow, she pondered, yawning. Her eyes were getting heavier by the second. When she finally laid her head on the pillow, she caught one last sight of him before she slept: a square-faced man wearing a cap over his short black hair.
First off, let me tell you thank you for being my first request! Okay, anyway... I'll be quoting some things here and there as I read. Whatever I find odd or cool, I'll underline. Next to that, I'll include my thoughts on it in bold. Alright, let's get started!
Again, good luck on your contest!
