Committed: A Short Story



  Committed

  Copyright 2011 N. Primak

  Cover Image Copyright 2011 N. Primak

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  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to Hope Goodrich, who provided editing, as well Terrance Henry, who provided creative inspiration for the title.

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  Robert didn't realize just how much he loved Layla until she was dead. Layla, the girl who had been his closest friend since childhood. He had been too scared to risk anything with her, and now it was too late. His fear of losing her had come to reality. Just like that.

  As Robert sat in his empty room, holding a photo album full of childhood memories, he felt himself losing it again. He was staring at a photograph of a little boy and girl embracing and smiling into the camera.

  Robert's veins were pulsing as the photo shook in his hands. He wasn't able to contain the violence inside him, and threw the photo album against the wall with all the force he had. It made a slapping noise and fell unceremoniously to the ground.

  There was a soft knock on the door. Robert didn't move. A louder knock. He stood up and picked up the photo album from the floor.

  Finally there was a completely unrestricted knock. Robert tripped on the printer he had left on the ground, leading to a loud crash. The knocker could be heard attempting to enter, but the door was locked from the inside and did not budge.

  “Robert? Are you okay?” A concerned and feminine high-pitched voice was muffled by the door between them.

  “Not really!” Robert shouted at the voice with a face full of dirty clothes.

  “Oh no. You have to let me in so I can help you!”

  “I can't move,” Robert groaned.

  “Well, I can't help you if you don't let me in.”

  Robert attempted to prop himself up with his arms, but his hand slipped on his spilled rock collection.

  “Ow.”

  “Robert?”

  There was a long pause as Robert ejected a rock out of his nose. “Yeah?”

  “Can I use your bathroom?”

  He glared at the door. “Yeah.”

  While she was gone Robert was finally able to crawl through the rubbish and prop himself up on some misplaced cushions so that his arm could reach the door handle.

  Tia was standing on the other side when he opened the door. She was thin, blonde-haired, and had big muddy green eyes with thick, mascara covered lashes.

  “Oh! Robert, your face!”

  Robert touched his face and to his horror felt that it was covered in little bumps.

  “Wait. There's a rock stuck in one of the bumps.” She picked it off with her finger.

  Robert glanced first at the tiny rock in her hand, and then at Tia. “I fell on my rock collection earlier. You scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you even doing here?”

  She wrung her hands. “You haven't been at school for a week. I was getting worried. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine. You can go now.” Robert picked himself up from the rubble and looked at her. She was still standing stubbornly in front of him.

  “No, Robert. I'm not leaving until I know you're okay.”

  “I told you I'm fine.” He gritted his teeth, remembering that he had not been out of the room all day and probably looked awful.

  “You don't look fine.” She stared at him suspiciously, looking him over.

  Robert could tell by her expression that she wasn't going to leave him alone. It was true; Robert had not slept since Layla died. “Why does it matter to you?”

  Tia stood up at his words, eyes flashing. “What does it matter to me?” She grabbed Robert's hand before he could step away from her. “I'm your friend. Sure, I haven't known you that long, but I've tried to be there for you. I know you well enough to know that losing Layla is about the worst thing that could ever have happened to you. I thought that I could help.”

  “I didn't ask for your help. I want to be alone.” He narrowed his eyes. He didn't like it when people said Layla's name.

  “I should have saved her from him. He ruined her.”

  “Robert, you can't be talking about Leon.”

  “Don't say his name. I can't stand hearing that bastard's name.” Robert gritted his teeth.

  “It's not Leon's fault!”

  “Yes it is, Tia.” Robert smashed his fist against the wall and Tia became pale. “How can you not see that? He might as well have killed her himself.”

  “No, Robert; you're wrong! Layla was obsessed with Leon. Leon tried to be nice but she latched on to him like a leech. He just didn't feel the same way about her.”

  “When someone loves you, you have to take responsibility. If he didn't like her in the first place, he should have never started dating her.”

  “It's not that simple, Robert.” She paused, obviously trying to think of a better reason. “You were in love with Layla, but she didn't take any responsibility. She just kept treating you the same way even though it was obvious that she was hurting you. But you would rather be angry with Leon than be angry with her.”

  “And you would rather defend a murderer.”

  The tears were glistening on Tia's eyelashes as Robert stood there fuming. “I see how it is.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, although she did not break Robert's eye contact. “You don't want to see what's right in front of your own eyes.”

  Robert tried to look away, but the intensity of her gaze held him prisoner. “All you want is to be angry with everyone. I am really sorry that all of this happened, but that doesn't give you license to go on a rampage. Layla's death was a tragedy, not a murder.”

  “I can't believe you're siding with Leon. I don't understand what makes you think you can trust him.” A morbid smile dawned upon his features. “I get it. You have a crush on him, don't you?” He looked at Tia with a newfound hatred. “You were just waiting until he broke it off with Layla, weren't you?”

  The intensity in Tia's eyes was replaced with large-pupil fear as Robert began to clench his fists anew. “No, Robert. That's not it.”

  Robert took a step toward her, examining her expression closely. “Really? How come I don't believe you?”

  “Because you're not thinking straight.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” There was a pause as Robert considered options of getting rid of her. Before he realized it, Tia had stepped closer to him again and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly. It was shaking.

  “Robert, you have to let your sadness out. I'm here for you, right now. Talk to me. Your anger is only going to make everything worse.”

  Robert inhaled deeply, trying to find his patience. It didn't help. She was treating him like a ten year old, and holding his hand no less. “Who do you think you are, Tia? My therapist?”

  “No. I'm someone you can talk to about this.” She looked around his room as she spoke, taking in the mess. “You obviously haven't been talking to anyone else.”

  “I'm a guy, Tia. We don't sit around and tell each other our deepest secrets. I'm not going to divulge my entire life story to you.”

  “I know that but-”

  “How many times do I have to say it, Tia?” Robert ripped his arm away from her and took several steps back. Again the madman of rage inside him was breaking through. “I don't want to talk to anyone! Don't you get it? You showing up in my room like this is only pissing me off more!”

  To his surprise, Tia still stood firm. She even seemed to have gotten her emotions under control. “How long do you plan on being like this, Robert? You're completely out of control. Maybe you can talk to me like this and I will still forgive y
ou, but if you start acting like this at school you'll become a social outcast in no time.”

  “I don't care about that.”

  Tia sighed. Robert crossed his fingers, hoping she would give up soon. “What do you care about, then?”

  “I don't know. Could you stop with the damn therapy already?” Tia's question was so simple, but Robert really didn't know how to answer it. He couldn't even remember what he had wanted before Layla died, let alone after.

  “There's nothing wrong with getting therapy, you know. Anyone in your position would need it.”

  “Oh, are you going to recommend me a therapist now?”

  “No, because I know you wouldn't even hear me out.” Robert noticed her tone had gotten colder. He was finally wearing her down.

  “Good.”

  That was when Tia lost her patience, and began to speak her mind. “You're not dealing with Layla's death at all. You really think you can just keep your grief at bay by being a douche bag and blaming Leon?”

  Robert couldn't believe the words that had come out of her mouth. It took all his willpower to keep from punching her in the face. He couldn't look at her. “Damn, I'm sorry. Remind me again who barged into whose room and started playing psychologist?”

  “You can't even say Layla's name, can you?” She slumped against the nearest wall as if she no longer had energy to speak to him. “You're right; it was stupid of me to come here. I thought we were friends, and I was wrong.”

  When Tia left, Robert almost felt bad. He picked up the photo album from the floor, and flipped through it again. His feelings hadn't changed. Robert still loved Layla and still hated Leon.