Sam Died Today

         

1

6:25, five minutes before the alarm goes off. Polly stares at her ceiling fan, thinking about the fact that her day will have officially started once her digital clock buzzes. 6:26, four more minutes. Polly thought about her schedule, but more so thought about how annoying it was that she had woken up ten minutes before the alarm. She looked to blinds which had rays of the sun shooting through the cracks and illuminating her room ever so slightly. Clenching her blanket, Polly knew that she would eventually have to get up and be one day closer to her big gig next Friday. 6:28; she grew increasingly nervous, she wasnât prepared, her whole band wasnât prepared. At least, thatâs what she would think. Seven days until she would have to perform in front of a crowd much larger than any other she had seen before, performing on a stage roomier than the ones sheâs performed on. The inevitability made her stomach go into knots, and her heart was beating faster as she couldnât contain her mind from thinking about it. 6:30 on the dot. The clock made a loud beeping noise, yet it was brief as Polly immediately turns it off after one single beep.
âTodayâ she uttered, âdoes not feel like a good day to be alive.â Groggy and annoyed, Polly stretched her arms and slowly sat up from her bed, drearily thinking of the week ahead.
âSix days till we perform. Weâre not even half ready.â She said with fatigue. Polly paused for a moment and had a quizzical look on her face. âNo...shit, wait seven days. Right?â She held out her hands and counted on her fingers. âYeah seven. Least I got an extra day. Yay.â
Polly stood up and began to play out a morning routine she had played out several hundred times before. First she would stretch her arms and attempt to crack her back, followed by a clumsy and tired trip to the bathroom where she would answer the calls of nature. Then she would shower as an attempt to wake herself. Once sheâs done drying herself and brushing her teeth, Polly would then head to the kitchen and make herself some cereal, eating with a grimace on her face as she would taste the bitterness of the toothpaste still in her tongue clashing with the sweetness of the high in sugar cereal bits. It was an average morning that was set apart from the others when Polly heard her phone ringing from inside her room. This is especially strange to someone like Polly who would rarely, if ever, get a call in the morning.
Wondering just who would call her so early, Polly stood up and headed towards her bedroom. As soon as she opened the door, her eyes fixed their gaze at the only illuminated thing in the entire room, which was her phone. Having forgotten to open the blinds, her room was a dark as a cave whose only source of light came from the sunbeams peeking through the blinds and the light from her phoneâs blueish-green screen. The phone was so bright that she could actually make out the text that was on screen, even from where she stood.

BAND PRACTICE

TODAY

11 AM - WHENEVER WE WANNA STOP

It was a reminder set by Polly that was calling her. Pollyâs face went pale when she read this. It only reminded her of her bandâs current status, and how she felt unprepared. Her fears soon turned to annoyance.
âI swearâ she said âif these morons donât show up at band practice today, Iâm going to justâ¦â her words trailed off âGod I hope theyâre coming.â
With that said, Polly enters her room and grabs her phone off the bed. Itâs not until she opens the blinds that she realizes just how disorganized and messy her room was. With the bed undone, the floor littered with sheets of paper, clothing scattered everywhere accompanied by small knick knacks, the light brought in by the sun only gave life to something Polly wouldnât want to see. However seeing this did not phase her. She was so accustomed to her own mess that seeing all this brought little to no emotion from her.
Next to her window was a drawer with a small mirror attached, which was cracked on the upper left corner. The crack is neatly covered by old photos of Polly with her friends back at high school. Other than the pictures, the only item she has left from them is a ring she wears on her index finger.
Polly knelt down and ran her hand through the bottom drawer. She felt several familiar objects, such as notebooks and pens, but when her eyes widened when she realized what she was looking for wasnât there. Polly dips her other hand in and searches more frantically, removing notebooks and various other pieces of trash out of the drawer.
âWhere is it?â she asked herself. Her hands stopped and she looked up and saw herself in the mirror. âSimon,â she whispered âthat little bastard.â Polly sprang up and rushed out into the hallway, down to where her brotherâs room was. Just as she placed her hand on the door, she mumbled âMaybe heâs still asleep...â
With this in mind, Polly gently turned the knob and peeked into his room. She saw a scrawny figure sitting in front of a bright computer monitor. Polly couldnât quite make out what she saw on screen, but to her it didnât matter, it was probably just one of those mmo games her brother would always play. In fact she was certain it was this, as the veracity of his clicky and clacking made it obvious that he was playing a video game of sorts. It didnât interest her in the slightest, her mind was on where her certain item was. Determined to find what she was looking for, Polly carelessly swings the door open, which startles Simon a bit. As she entered his room, Simon looked back and is shocked to see his sister pillaging through his stuff.
âWhat the hell are you doing!?â he shouted. Simon held his headsetâs microphone to his mouth and said âHang on guys.â He then unplugs his headset and unequips it. âWhat are you doing in my room?â he shouted again.
âIâm looking for my carton of smokes, I know you have themâ responded Polly. Without looking at her brother she continued digging through deeper in his pile of junk.
âWell, I donât have them.â said Simon, sounding annoyed. âCan you just leave already?â
âIâm not stupid, Simon. You were in my room last night. Remember?â
âYeah, but I didnât take anything! So leave! Now!â Simon began to raise his voice. Polly didnât respond. Simon sighs and turns back to his computer. âGod, youâre so annoying.â
âWhat time did you go to sleep?â Polly said out of nowhere.
âWhat?â
âYou heard me. What time?â
âI donât know.â Simon began clicking his keyboard again, trying to ignore Polly.
âWell, what time did you wake up?â Polly asked.
âI donât know.â
âDid you even sleep at all?â
âCan you stop asking so many questions? Like, seriously?â Simon grew increasingly annoyed. Polly looked at Simon with his back turned to her. She too was visibly annoyed.
âDonât talk to me like that.â Polly said firmly âIâm your sister, I can ask as many questions as I want, got it?â
âOh my God, you are so damn cranky when youâre not smoking your lungs out, you know that?â Simon replied as he swerved his chair to look at his sister.
âWell I wouldnât be cranky if it werenât for the fact that you took them from me!â
âTook what!?â
âMy cigarettes!â
âI didnât take anything!â yelled Simon. His face was red and his teeth were grinding.
âYeah?â Polly said âThen what are these?â she pulls out her pack of cigarettes from the pile of things Simon had on his bed. When he saw this, Simonâs face flushed and he immediately turns back to his computer screen.
âWhatever.â SImon said meekly.
âWhatever? Donât whatever me, Simon! What are you doing with my smokes?â Polly was now more annoyed than before.
âNothing.â
âOh, yeah right!â
âIâm serious!â While sounding sincere, Polly still couldnât believe her little brother. She desperately wanted to lecture him about the dangers of smoking, and just how bad it is for his health, or how it was illegal for someone his age to be smoking in the first place. However, all the lectures she had in mind were all pointless, it would only point out how much of a hypocrite she was, and most of her arguments could be countered with a counterpoint. Polly knew this, so with that in mind she gave her brother a simple warning.
âDonât take my carton again.â Simon responds with silence, and with that, Polly leaves. Just as she turns around to close his door, Polly looks at her brotherâs back melancholically. As she stood in the hall watching the side of her brotherâs face lit up by colorful flashing lights, she begins to think to herself and worries that sheâs influencing him the wrong way. Polly loves her brother, there is no doubt in her mind about that, but she begins to wonder if loving him is enough. With no definite answer in her mind, Polly closes the door and is left to ponder alone.
Shaking out one single cigarette out of the carton, she heads out to the balcony and grabs the home phone on the way out. Gazing out at the townâs buildings and denizens walking. She could see that the morning sun has already arisen, and the morning commute of Alexandre, California has already started their day. Alexandre was a humble town that would soon grow into something bigger. It aspired to be something larger in both size, and notoriety. As to whether this would lead into an ugly Alexandre or a beautiful one depends on its citizens.
         Polly wasnât so sure if she would stay and live in a place like Alexandre. It was a beautiful town, but she has little to no connection to it emotionally. All her friends were scattered around the country, and her goal was to be a famous singer so that she could visit them, wherever they were. Singing was her passion, and it was something she would openly discuss with them. Polly wanted to influence minds and hearts all over the world, she felt that music can change the world, or at least have a heavy influence. This was a dream that she wanted to accomplish badly.
         Polly smiled as she thought about her dream of being famous, humoring her mind with ideas and fantasies that she knew her heart couldnât possibly be accomplished. Nevertheless it was a dream she would never let go, no matter how silly it may be. She lit up the cigarette, inhales in, and exhales out a large cloud of smoke. Polly held the home phone in front of her and scrolled through the caller ID.
         âDid mom or dad call?â she asked her brother with a slightly raised voice.
         âNah.â Simon responded.
         Scrolling through the past calls, Polly sees one caller labeled as âMom and Dadâ. Underneath the ID, in bolded capital letters âMISSED CALLâ. She scowled.
         âSimon! They did call!â yelled Polly.
         âOh...whoops.â
         Polly sighs heavily. The caller ID says they called hours ago, which relieves her slightly as it was the only call they made. It wasnât an important call, because if it was then they would have attempted to call multiple times. Plus she had the excuse that both Simon and herself were asleep at the time. With this in mind, she places the phone on the small table on the balcony. Finishing the last bit of cigarette left, she began to think more about the day ahead. Her band needs to be ready to perform, otherwise theyâll embarrass themselves in front of a crowd larger than anything theyâve ever seen. It makes her heart skip a beat just thinking about it. There canât be a single error from here onwards. Everything needs to be perfect.
As her cigarette shrinks, Polly grabs the ashtray on the table and puts out the final flame. Polly looks inside her pack of smokes. There were only four left.