God hates me (Chapter 3)Mature

There was something about sidewalks that were lined with trees that made Jonathan incredibly depressed. For the sake of urban beauty these trees, lined in perfect unison, outside of their natural habitat were trapped in a cement box for their entire lives, that would, undoubtedly last longer than the idiot that planted them there in the first place. The ridges of the roots poured out of the cement like bread dough. Apartment buildings blocked the sun so the trees twisted and contorted together like petrified snakes. Like a row of men on death row they had eternal dreams of ending their own lives or escaping into the forest to disappear forever.


            Jonathan walked to the middle of a large green field. He had a book with him to get his mind off of things. He opened the book and tried to read the first few lines; they did not go as he wanted them to and he put the book down. He rolled on to his back, put the book and his hands behind his head and took a nap.


            When Jonathan woke up it was dark outside. It had only felt like a second ago that he put his hands behind his head. He looked up at the stars and for the first time in a few days his mind felt sharp and clear, he felt like he would be ok. His logic was in control of his feelings and he felt like he was in control of his life. He got up with a new sense of pride and walked back to his apartment.

When he opened the door the air in the apartment was stale and sad. He had great empathy for himself and promised he would not go back to the way he was. He went to his kitchen and took his phone out of the garbage and plugged it back into the wall. At the same time his phone rang, his heart jumped a beat and in Morse code told his brain it was Sarah; he was wrong.


"Hello, Sarah?" He said.

"Sarah? No, it's your mom." She said.

"Oh, Hello mom."

"How have you been? I haven't talked to you in so long."

"Well, I got fired from my job this morning, and last week Sarah left me."

"It was for another guy wasn't it?"

"What? No."

"Well, sorry anyway, but between you and me I knew it would happen sooner or later."


"I always thought that she was a little whore."

"You just hate blondes."

"What can I say, they're all whores."

"So what you're saying is that there is a genetic disposition in people with blonde hair. That they have a mutation in their DNA that automatically makes them whores? Is that correct?"

"You got it."

"What if they bleach their hair?"

"It seeps into their brains and makes them retarded. And you and I both know that all those retards are fooling around with each other at the home Jonathan."

"Fine. I am choosing to ignore what you just said. What is it that you want?"

"I wanted to see how you were. I am still your mother Jonathan, I always will be, I'll always be there for you when you need me."


"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Other than give me your sage like advice?"

"I could visit; clean your apartment? I'm sure you could use company right now."

"I don't want anything right now, I just want to sit on the couch alone and think about my life."


"Yes. I assure you the second I need someone to tell me all the things I need to change in my life you will be the first one I call, but until then good night."

"I love you."

"I know."


            Jonathan hung up his phone; once again it started to ring. He picked up the phone.


"I get it, I love you too!" He said.

"Jonathan?" A girl's voice said; it wasn't his mom. It was Sarah.

"Sarah? What do you want?"

"I miss you."

"I think it's a little late to say that."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Well, now you have. Can I go now?"

"Why are you being like this?"

"Why am I? You broke up with me remember."

"I know."

"Then why are you calling me?"

"I missed you."


            Their conversation went on for another hour or so. Those three words broke any progress

Jonathan had made. Nearing the end of the conversation he begged for her to come back, cried out that he needed her. After he got off the phone he realized that is exactly what she had wanted. She wasn't going to come back to him that was sure. She did though want to know that he wanted her, his weakness gave her the strength and resolution to go on with her life; it was a trick and he went for it. Once again Jonathan un-plugged the phone, this time he threw it off of his balcony. His feelings rushed back into his body with twice the intensity as before.

The End

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