Plotting Blog

A short story written by Ordinary Human.

"Her" by Ordinary Human

(A) Every day I wake up from my slumber, it is the same. My alarm plays my favorite song, "Drive" by Incubus(foreshadowing); I don't turn it off or hit snooze. Instead, I roll over and open my eyes to see her—the girl whose beauty is so intoxicating it's radioactive. (metaphor) I gaze at her as I prepare to leave the sinkhole, commonly called a bed. She is my genuine energizer; unlike the sleep I get at night. Sleep is a chore, a distraction, and sometimes a battle, but she is peaceful, relaxing, and straightforward. Waking up to her is the only consistency I need. When her eyes, as blue as the ocean (simile), flutter open, I know it is time for me to go to work. We get ready together side by side. We brush our teeth together in the brightly lit his and her bathroom like we're in a cliche movie. (simile) But, it is never like a cliche movie in reality. (foreshadowing)

Today, is an odd day. Today I get an unexpected phone call at work. On a typical day, everything is routine. There is no call from an unknown number, only planned phone calls marked on the awkward calendar with pictures of kittens she bought me. The calendar on my office wall always has the phone calls I will receive and deliver throughout the day, so why is it today that I am staring at this alert of an incoming call from an unknown number? I pick up the phone and answer with a shaky, "Hello?" A man answers, a man who refers to himself as Sheriff James. Why in the world would a sheriff be contacting me? I think to myself while there is silence on the call. He broke the silence as he said, "Mr. Barron, there's been a car accident. Your wife was involved." (X) My heart drops, sound is fading, and the physical world around me is no longer in focus. The world spins until everything goes blank.

It is now midnight as I lay in this cold sinkhole. I can't remember anything that led me here. The day is indistinguishable from the moment I got that phone call. It is as if my life was no longer my life. Whoever's story I lived today was not mine! I dissociated from my own life. I convince myself this is some outlandish glitch in the system and that I will wake up and it will be the same again. That she will be here tomorrow, just like my favorite song.

(falling action) Every day I wake up the same, so why is it not the same today? I woke up to my favorite song, but it is not my favorite today. How could this song that states, "I should be the one behind the wheel," be my favorite song? The piece repeatedly says, "Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there," which is false. (irony) She is not here for me to roll over to. It has always been the same, yet now nothing is the same. How am I to get out of this sinkhole? You need to be recharged to leave the bed in the morning, yet without her, I am not. I stare at her photograph on my nightstand, pretending it compares to her presence in my bed. I pretend those ocean-blue eyes (metaphor) are fluttering open. But, it is no use. So, here I lay, inevitably sinking beyond retrieval. For there is nothing without her consistency and I am nothing without her.

(B) Every day from that dreadful day, I wake up the same. My alarm plays generic beeping, my eyes flutter open, I press snooze, and my eyes flutter shut. When the snooze alarm goes off, I wake up and get ready alone. I miss my signal to get up from bed being her eyes. I stand in my half of the bathroom brushing my teeth, but there is no radiant beauty on the other side. I miss thinking we were a cliche. But, this is my new reality. One where I am barely present and all I think about is her. I miss waking up from my slumber the same. Nothing is the same without her.