ANNE
By; Dibosa .P.C. Marcel
Working a desk job at a suicide hotline office is not all it’s cut out to be, at first the nobility of the task seems to scream righteousness at the face of every one outside those walls, but, once the incessant phone calls begin to violently wreak havoc to the workers ears, the person on the other end of the line begins to sound like a pest even to the most honorable of hearts the cacophonic cries of the angry phone didn’t seem to faze Anne one bit, as she stared into her desktop screen; her mind on a disorienting journey…no she wasn’t fazed one bit.
“Anne.” A voice beckoned to her. “ANNE!” The voice yelled. Startling Anne back to reality, as she recognized it was the voice of her boss.
“Pick up your damn phone; I didn’t hire you to daydream.”
“I’m sorry sir, I’ll get right to it.” She replied quickly.
“You had better.” He said as he walked away.
Anne picked up her assigned hotline, as she shimmed herself up on her seat.
“Hi.” She said. It was advised to utilize an informal pattern of speaking so as to make the callers feel comfortable, a friendly voice and a sympathetic speech; matter of fact there was a script always on the desk ready to refer to, in case the workers had problems communing with their callers.
“Hi.” The caller replied with a serene voice, it was a female; there had been more of those lately.
“I’m Anne from The NS hotline.” Anne replied as she flipped through her script with her other hand. “What’s your…”
“I can hear you flip your script from here Anne, not very discreet.”
“I’m sorry it’s the draft in here.” She replied trying to cover up.
“Don’t condescend to me…let’s skip the formalities.”
“Okay, I apologize. Tell me what’s happening.”
“Mmmh. Well, i’ve been thinking a lot about death lately.” The caller replied. “A whole lot.”
“And why is that? Do you want to die?”
“Oh no, it’s not about me, it’s someone else I want dead.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m looking at the person I want dead right now too. Do you want to say hi?”
“Okay, I get it.” Anne laughed. “This is a prank call, shame on you, there are people out there that need actual help, I’m hanging up.”
“If you hang up on me, I’ll put a bullet right through your best friend Gina’s ears.” The caller yelled.
“Who is this” Anne said as she held the phone tightly to her ears, somehow convinced. “Is this a joke?”
“I don’t know, is it? Let’s ask her.” Anne could hear the caller walk a few steps. “Hey Gina, Anne thinks I’m kidding about killing you. Say hi, so she knows this is real.”
“Anne…help me…it’s me Gina. She’s really going to kill me.”
“Oh my God, Gina.” Anne yelled frantically. “I’ll get help, I’ll call the police.”
“I don’t think Anne likes you very much Gina.” The caller said as she cut the conversation short. “Listen Anne, the moment I hear the sirens, your friends going to need a closed casket, because of the massive hole I’m going to leave in her pretty fucking face.”
“Nooooooo.” Gina screamed from the other side of the phone.
“I’ll get you out of there Gina, I promise.” Anne yelled.
“Anne, Anne, Anne, Anne. Don’t sound so tensed, If you get tensed, I get tensed and that’s an absolute shit show for Gina.”
“What the hell do you want?” Anne asked in a teary voice.
“I want you to help Gina, I want you to decide if she lives or…”
“Okay, Okay. I want her to live.”
“Oh that’s a good one.” The caller replied as she laughed. “But it’s not going to be that easy.”
Now Anne’s palms were sweaty, drowning the skin of her phone, coursing through her mind were solutions to the ongoing problem, if she called the police the strange caller would know so, what could be done, then a light bulb went off, she would write what was happening on a paper and hand it to one of her colleagues quietly, yes that was the perfect solution, she signaled to those nearby but, she was completely ignored, she threw papers at them but, she was still ignored. What was going on, could they not see her wave her hands towards them, could they not see the fear in her eyes as the tears ran down her cheeks?
“Anne…Are you still there?” The caller issued.
“Yes.”
“You’re not trying to call for attention now, are you?”
“No…I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Say, do you remember that old movie; The truth about love.”
“I’m not sure that I do.”
“Don’t be boring, should I shoot Gina in the knee cap to lighten things up?”
“No…I’m sorry, I remember it now.”
“what did you think about, Chike leaving his wife and kids for his high school sweet heart, after 11 years of marriage.”
“I thought it was unfair.”
“Why? It was for true love, wasn’t it?”
“He left his wife, his kids after all they had been through, and for a woman he hadn’t seen in years.” She replied still trying to signal to her colleagues.
“So, answer honestly, do you think he deserved to die in that bus crash.”
“I don’t know, what is the point of these questions?”
“Knee caps Anne and be honest.”
“Yes. He deserved that and more.” She reluctantly replied.
“You know, I don’t think your husband would like that answer very much.”
“What do you mean my husband?”
“I mean Tom, your husband. Oh didn’t I tell you he was here too?”
“What?” Anne replied in shock.
“He couldn’t say hi because, I gagged him. He’s not anymore though. Say hi Tom.”
“Anne, baby, don’t listen to her.” Tom screamed.
“You sick bitch what did my husband ever do to you?” Anne cried.
“It’s not about what he did to me, it’s about what he was about to do to you, and what he did to Gina over and over again.”
“What do you mean?” She asked, confused. “Honey, what does he mean?”
“I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to find out like this.” Tom said quietly, his voice fading into guilt.
“Find out what Tom.” Anne asked. “Find out what?”
“I’m leaving you Anne.” Tom said.
“But, that’s not all is it Tom?” The strange caller asked. “Tell her the other thing.”
Tom fell silent, the kind of silence that tells a lot more than it should, the kind that chokes the air around you even from a phone.
“Well if tom won’t tell you maybe Gina will.
“Gina, honey. What the fuck is going on?”
“I…i…I’m pregnant.” Gina stuttered.
Anne placed her hand over her mouth, she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, her stomach felt empty, her shoulders felt heavy, she was dizzy, she was sad but, most of all she was furious.
“How long have you been fucking my husband.”
“Anne I’m so sorry.” Gina replied.
“How fucking long you treacherous bitch.”
“Before you got married.”
It was like a shot to the gut, a shot from a shotgun filled with tiny pellets of mighty truths, Anne could feel herself slip in and out of consciousness.
“Tom…you said you didn’t want kids.” Anne voice had mellowed but, dangerously so, her eyes had turned cold, her voice reeked of vengeful disgust.
“I didn’t know how to tell you, I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
Anne went silent, her mind a canvas for rage, please forgive me? How audacious. She was hurt, broken beyond repair and someone needed to pay.
“The time has come Anne. Time to decide their fates. My gun is pointing at Gina’s head right now, save her Anne, in 5, 4…”
“No, Anne, please don’t do this, I’m sorry, please we’re friend, best friends please Anne.” Gina pleaded and pleaded as she heard the strange caller countdown the seconds of her life she had left to live and then there was a bang, and a thud, as Gina dropped like a call at the other side of the phone.
“Gina is gone.” The caller said.
“And Tom?” Anne asked.
“The choice is still yours to make.”
Anne looked at her desktop screen, the lights coming from it spread all over her face, giving her an even colder look than she had put on minutes ago.
“Goodbye Tom.” She said as she hung up.
She looked around the office and it was empty, no one was there. No lights were on, only the light from her computer screen illuminated, and then after a while she could hear the sirens in the distance, as she looked down on herself to see her clothes bloodied.
Dibosa .P.C. Marcel is an avid fiction writer, poet and cartoonist, he's currently observing his mandatory NYSC scheme in Ilorin, Kwara state.
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