Cold, Empty Stool

Cold, Empty Stool


As I sit inside of the local deli, I see her walking towards the automatic doors of her daily routine. Eyes pinned on her, and my mind wandering, I fail to hear the jeering remarks of the young boys sitting behind me. It’s just the daily music I live my life to, the soundtrack that is repeated so often, I just don’t hear it anymore. Let them get their kicks, they don’t think I understand them anyways. I may look like I don’t think, or that I can’t, but inside, secretly, I have the greatest mind a man could contain. As I sorely get down from the swively stool that has been silently claimed as mine, I can see the last remnants of her long, dreamt over hair, trail inside of those god dam sensitive doors. How I long to be able to stand outside and watch her through the windows, to see her smile, laugh, and quietly sing her shift away. To be able to secretly stare down her resplendent aura, to be able to drool over her in privacy, without her noticing. If only those doors wouldn’t open wide and blow my dreamt about cover, if only they were manual.

Every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, this has become my life. She has become my unknown savior. The one who brightens my day, and the one who uncontrollably takes over my mind. I didn’t want to become addicted, I really didn’t. I just couldn’t stay away after the first day she disrupted my routine. Before she was hired, before she turned my life upside down, I saw those sweet little ladies, day in, and day out. Every day I would come into the store and say hi to each one, greeting them kindly. Each day, at 3:00pm, this was my routine. I learnt their names, I learnt their voices, taking silent notes of the way they looked at me. With disgust. But on that cold September day, as I got off of my stool, and walked across the parking lot, I could tell something was going to change.

Instead of meeting the same warn in, kind faces of the ladies behind the counter, I was greeted with the most hypnotic, smile of innocence ever seen. Nervous and pulsing with beginning, she looked at me in a way I had never been glanced at. In a way that made me feel wanted, and cared for. Her one smile, had given me hope I never knew I had. And from that day onward, she was my new antibiotic.

The picture of virtue, that is what she was. The only girl to respect me like any other person. The only female in the world to take notice of me, and the only one to genuinely want to get to know me. She was never once scared off by my looks, never once scared off by my way of speech. She always knew what I was trying to say, and she always smiled. Always. Never once did I see her turn away in disgust, in shock. Never once did she ignore me, or try to seem busy like the others when I entered. Everyday she worked, she was always waiting at the counter, ready to greet me.

Pinned to the front of my mind, was the schedule of her days, marked by each minute, and filled to each second. Easily I memorized her routes to school, her routes to and from work. Never once did she falter from her perfectly planned out schedule. If I wasn’t weighed down by my walker, if only I were younger, I would have been able to go everywhere she did. But I had to limit myself to watching her from a distance, never being able to keep up. Watching through windows, and glancing around corners, I followed her whenever I could. Each day, I saw her in a new light. I saw her happy, I saw her secretly mad. But the emotion I loved the most to see on her face, was the look of confusion, and bewilderment. She was just so cute all red on the cheeks, and white around her neck.


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Taken, taken. Hearing her say that one word to the boy I was most jealous of in the world not two seconds ago, sent my mind aimlessly wandering in itself. All the time, whenever she walked alone, I was jealous of the looks she received so unknowingly, and the calls she never heard coming her way. How I wanted to take the lives of every male that longed for her like me. Mine, she was MINE, secretly, but still mine. I didn’t think I could have been more distraught after seeing one boy have the decency of sitting beside her, and talking to her in my presence, of seeing him look at her eat her lunch, I realized after she let that one word leak out, that I could be.

After my long months of addiction, and my long months of recovering from solitude, I was sent reeling into a dark spiral of hysterical and turbulent distress. Trying to control my fury, and trying to keep composure, I had the misfortune to look up, to see her scared eyes looking in my direction. To see everyone in the deli glancing at me in horrific stares, and to see everyone creeping away as far as they could. A few people started to come towards me. What was going on, why were these people looking at me like I was an animal, why did they have a look on their face showing how hey wanted to take control of me. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was just sitting in a pool of my own pity. I was just secretly distressed.

Feeling the pressure of stares searing into my skin, and the feel of anxious peril filling my veins, I could not control my adrenalin any tighter. Bursting like a balloon blown up too tight, I let out a piercing scream, and launched myself out of that horrid deli. Of the place I spent my days. Waiting on that same stool for her to walk to work. Everyday, as the clock ticked 2:48 exactly, I would get my first glimpse of her long, heart throbbing hair. But today, instead of leaving to see a brilliant smile awaiting me, I left to a dismayed one. A look of worry, and a look of tearful distress was what I saw on her face.

Feeling the jagged form of guilt diffusing throughout my body, of shame and fault, I sunk to the ground and cried. Heart wrenching and thoroughly, the tears rolled down my body, till I was convulsing in agony. Panic had now revealed itself before me, and was slowing inching itself tightly around my throat. It was showing me the things that would now befall me, of what I could never do once more. I could in no way see her once again. I had somehow scared her away, I know it. In some way, she was able to hear what was going through my mind. I know it, somehow she knew what my brain was saying. The world was against me, and now she was too. The only one to have appreciated my presence, the only one to have taken notice, I had scared away.



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Waking up in a puddle of filth and sorrow, my eyes took a long time to react to the light of day. Puffy, and bruised my knees where pressed against the harsh concrete of the sidewalk, and my back was against the smoothness of a wall. Looking around, I saw that I was lying near the entrance to the local movie theatre, and across the road the first signs of the sun were lifting over the sea. Trying to get up on my legs, I realized that I did not have my walker beside me, and the second thought racing through my head, was how had I come to be sitting on the side of the road. Why was I not inside of my nice room at the house, why was the nurse not coming in with hot coffee and those dreaded pills.

She kicked me out, she didn’t want to look after me anymore. I knew she disliked me from the first glance she had given me. From the first hello. I was all alone in this world, and now I had no home. At least I wouldn’t be forced to take medication that I didn’t need. At least now I could live a true life. Wait. What is that? A man is walking towards me, what does he want? He’s going to hit me, I know it, his face shows hatred. Why does the world hate me so?

Standing up, and feeling anxious resistance passing into my veins, I charge at him, knocking over his frail body. Not glancing back I keep running, not knowing where I am headed, but knowing that I will go to the right place. Slowing down my pace, and feeling nervous, I see people looking at me in awe, and in gratitude. I know they just can’t get enough of me. I am their new star. But wait, why would I be their star? I haven’t done anything. Why are these people LOOOKINGAT ME!!!?

Coming to a quivering stop, I realize where my mind took me, to the electric doors. To the doors of my future, to the doors of my salvation. I know that once I enter those doors, I will see a face of beauty, and a glance of hope. Walking stiffly into the store, I can feel the heat of welcoming rush over my frozen body, and my limbs start to pulse with revival. Looking in the direction of the till, I don’t see her waiting there, I don’t see her mesmerizing body, and her warmth coming my way. Puzzled I walk up to the counter, and I hear the familiar old voice of the oldest lady at the store. Except this time, her voice sounds different, almost scared and nervous. “How many matches today Bob?”. Hearing this momentarily takes me out of my reverie of the past, and back to the present. None, I don’t want any matches. All I want to do is enquire about the young girl. The girl with the gleaming, long hair. “She’s not here today Bob.” But I never asked. How is it that this whole world can here what I am thinking. “She quit Bob, she’s not coming back.” Hearing that sentence I feel the pressure of sorrow wash over my wet and stinking body. How could she not be here? She loved me. I know she did. Wait, she was with someone else. She never loved me, never. It was all an act, a hurtful and deceiving act.
She was never waiting for me everyday at the counter. It was her job. And she was never excited to see me, she was excited for me to leave. How could I have let her mislead me, how could I have been so senile. Leaving the store, I see a pile of local newspapers spread out near the exit. The headline today is “Fanatical Madman Escaped From Isolation: a story about a crazy loon who held up a local deli just last night.” Somehow I know they are talking about me, and somehow, I know its true.

Walking past the deli, I see the vacant stool I sat on my whole life, day in and day out, except now, the place is blocked off with tape and crowds of people. The one true relief of my days has now left me, the girl I yearned for, the one who kept me going. She has left no trace of herself, and I was in no way going to be able to find her. Feeling weak in the knees, and light in the head, I start to feel knots of vomit being produced inside of my stomach, I reach into my pocket, and feel my charm; a lock of her hair.

Never again to see her, my medication, I have no initiative to go on with life. I have no need of my past once again to resurrect itself, and I no longer need to hear the whisperings and snickers coming from the people around me. This world is just not meant for me and I am not meant for the world.



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Walking along the seashore, feeling the sand crunching beneath my shoes, I take a look out over the water, and see her standing on air. Standing poised as ever, and calling for me, she motions her hands for me to join her. Barely I can feel the water inch up my filthy body, and scarcely can I feel the chills pulsate throughout, turning my organs and blood to ice. Calmness is all I want to feel, and humiliation I want to be rid. Today the cool September sea and her face, are the last things to ease me, and take my breath away. As I realize the depth of what I am about to commit, it is too late, the wetness and strength of the Pacific Ocean has overtaken my limbs, my neck, and slowly, the rhythm of my breath. Her illusion slowly fades, as does the un-medicated beat of my heart, and I take one last self-possessed breath.