AllFreeNovel
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My phone and tablet are the only things that remain. I make a note to buy new ones when I get the courage to leave. But for now, I grab them take them out to my balcony and find a hammer.
I don’t check the messages, emails, saved pictures. I want to forget all of it. I bring the hammer down on the phone first. It is easy to destroy, I shatter the screen, sparking cracks all over it, and I never want to see it again.
The laptop is next, and I snap it backward in two. I jump on it, and I am sure my neighbors might call the cops if they see me, but I don’t care. My arms are sore as I swing and bring it down repeatedly. Until it is a mixed media piece for ruined technology.
My fingers are tight around the handle, and I can’t let go. Because if I do, they will get me. I am huffing and puffing, and I can’t pretend I am not scared still. But at least now the scent can’t follow me, the sounds can’t track me here.
The next day, I feel courageous enough to go outside and down to the market to get a few snacks. It isn’t a big step, but it is a first one.
“Phoebe! Phoebe! Open up! Please!” Rachelle is back at trying to bust open the door when I get back from grocery shopping.
“Elle, chill. I’m right here.”
She turns and sees me; she is a good half foot taller than me. She runs and cries immediately, wraps me in a hug, and I feel comfortable hugging her back.
“Where were you? Where have you been?” Rachelle is breaking down, and I try to calm her.
“I went grocery shopping. Do you want to come inside?”
Rachelle stands up, nods her head, waits for me to open the door, and follows me in.
“So, what have you been up to?” My friend looks at me like I might rip off my clothes and start screeching at any second.
“I’ve been, just been here.” I lean across the counter as she takes a seat.
“How are you with everything? The news is nonstop, going about you and the other American girl.” I know she is trying to help, but I can’t think about it right now.
“Elle, let’s talk about something else. How many sponsors did we lose?” I know the drill; travel sponsors drop me if I don’t follow through with agreements.
“None, actually.” Pursing her lips before she continued, wanting to make sure I didn’t actually want to talk about the incident. “We’ve gained a few more.” She pulls out her tablet and shows me one I have been yearning for years now.
“How did this happen? I don’t understand.”
“They saw you on the news. Everyone has been showing you support. You’ve gained over a hundred thousand followers. Prints on your website are sold out, and we have orders backed up for two months.” Rachelle is excited; I should be too. I am sure she has been handling everything since I have been preoccupied.
But I don’t feel joy; I feel resentment.
“So they feel bad for me.” I take a step back, not wanting to look anymore at business. I want to get back to work, get my camera, and get lost.
“No, not at all. They love you, Phoebe. They are showing their support the only way they know how.” She pushes the tablet back so I can see my follower count; it doesn’t impress me.
“They pity me, which is why that sponsor finally accepted us. Those viewers are sad about what happened. It isn’t anything to celebrate, Elle; if it were someone else, the same thing would have happened.” Take a sip of some smoothie.
“That’s not true, Phoebe. Do you have any idea how much people love you? There are tons of messages of your fans who say how grateful they are that you are alive, how you changed their lives inspired them. That isn’t pity, Phoebe.”
“Rachelle, the jobs. What offers do we have?” I wave her off and wait. I can’t think about that, then I feel like I might let the strangers who watch my life down.
Becoming famous felt a lot like dying.
It’s going to bed one night and waking up in a different life; it looks like the same body, same personality. But it’s not yours anymore; you belong to the audience.
“I sent you a few if you wanted to look at them.” My assistant/friend tries to pull up the email, and I read it. “Where are your phone and laptop?”
I show her the busted pieces on the balcony. There are plenty of opportunities, but only ten look like I would be interested in doing right now.
“So that makes sense why you aren’t responding to any of the messages. I guess that is first on the to-do list. New phone, laptop, tablet. Am I missing anything?”
“Smartwatch. I had to throw my old one away.” I look up at her face. “It smelled.”
