Point of view is a funny thing. In writing it is a measure of either omniscience or personal view. For me though it is purely visual. I knew something was wrong even before I opened my eyes. I was horizontal and my cheek was pressed against something cold and wet.
My lids cracked open, but focus wasn't part of the deal. Raising my head a little allowed my two wandering eyes to center on what turned out to be an elaborately tiled floor with a helluva lot of something wet on it. From the position of my head and the location of the wetness on my cheek I made a guess that it was spit. The way my head pounded I guess I had been passed out there all night and so reasonably just proceeded to drool all over the floor; not the first time that had happened, but the last time had been in college.
I swiped my cheek against my shoulder to dry it off and then looked up past the floor. Right on eye-level was a shoe. In fact it was a ladies shoe and attached to it was a foot followed by a nicely shaped calf. The end point of the calf was obscured by the fact of it disappearing into a tub and I was still prone on the floor. I could see another not altogether unexpected shoe and it's friends close to the first one. I have to admit to being a bit more interested now and figured on exploring just where these two items led.
Dragging myself on my elbows a bit closer I reached up and with my finger traced the outline of the nearest calf all the way to the tub. Still a bit too far away and too headachy to want to stand up I just grabbed the edge of the tub and pulled myself up. I was not ready for what I saw. She had a face that was the perfect compliment to those perfect calfs. The rest of her though was covered by ice.
"Uh, Miss?" I said.
Her eyes fluttered open, but it was clear that she was in bad shape. Her eyes took in face and then focused on random parts of the room. She gaze stopped at a point somewhere above and behind me. Her face went from relatively blank to a look of horror and her mouth parted soundlessly. She moved one of her arms from beneath the cubes of ice brought up a hand covered in blood. I went from prone inaction to stand up and wide awake in about a half a second. Looking behind me I could see the bathroom mirror with a note written on it in red lipstick.
"Call 911. I have taken one of your kidneys, but don't want you to die. I just need it more than you do."
Oh, shit.
1 comment:
Heh - always like to see an urban myth get some play in a story!
I'm not fond of the use of the phrase "obscured by the fact of it disappearing..." - I'd say this is one of those cases where Strunk and White would say "less is more". "...the calf was obscured by the edge of the tub..." or something along those lines?
And one other thing I'd suggest - instead of having the narrator suddenly collected enough to say "Uh, miss?" I (and this is obviously just how I would have done it) would go for something like, "I must have made some startled sound" or something along those lines.
But this is fun - definitely the start of something intriguing!
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