Corpse: Submission #9

This is submission #9 of my story called Corpse. It looks like I am going to have to start writing again as I am getting fairly close to a portion that I want rewritten because I'm not happy with the visualization created in the first draft. Hopefully I can get cracking on that soon. If and when I do, I think it will make the story flow much better in the future and add a lot to the book. As always comments and criticisms are welcome.

CHAPTER 3:

Jonathon decided that rather than go home he would just spend the night with Amy. He usually didn’t like to do so because it meant he had to get up extra early and head back to his apartment before heading into work. Before he knew it though, it was eleven o’clock and with a forty-five minute drive back to his place, it was easier just to give in to his rare moment of laziness and stay the night.

As always, Amy was ecstatic. She loved when he stayed over because she loved to pretend that they were already married and that “this is how life will be like once we are together forever,” she would swoon.

Jonathon took it in stride. “Let her believe what she wants,” he thought. “It isn’t going to be all fairy tales and wonderful times.” She had no idea that he had no intention of changing the way he currently did things. As he had told his brother over beers one night when the Josh had accused him of being under her thumb once they tied the knot, “No way man, there is nothing to worry about. This just means that my consistent stickin’ is a lot closer than Ann Arbor.”

When the alarm went off at 5:00am, he made her hit snooze twice before he rolled the sheets back and sat up. It was way too early, but he had to get to work.

Jonathon stood up and slipped his jeans on as Amy rolled over. “Why don’t you get a shower here,” she asked him, “maybe I’ll give you some company, you know, wash your back, and stuff…” she trailed as she gave him a little wink.

“Knock it off Amy,” he snapped at her. “This is what I’m always talking about. Every time I stay over you play like this is a slumber party or something. I have to get to work, you know that. I can’t be screwing around. When are you going to grow up and realize that I have commitments besides you that I have to deal with?”

She looked flabbergasted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought maybe we could have a few minutes together before you left.”

“You had your few minutes with me last night,” he growled. “I canceled my plans so I could be with you. If that isn’t enough then you better rethink the sacrifices we both need to make so that this relationship can work. I’ve given a lot of myself so I can make you happy, so you better start thinking about that.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s just that I love being around you all the time. I just want to make you happy.” She looked up from her pillow, her eyes tearing, “I just want to be married to you so bad. It is all I can think about. I know it will be so wonderful. We’ll be so happy together. I wish June would get here sooner.”

Jonathon rolled his eyes, “Well, this is November and I’m not about to throw my job away because you want to play house with me. Right now, I have to get back to my apartment and get ready for work. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

With that he walked out of the bedroom, muttering under his breath. “I never should have stayed last night,” he said to himself. “I knew this was going to happen.”

Without much fault Jonathon slipped on his loafers, grabbed his jacket off of the coat rack by the door and walked out the door, leaving Amy alone in her bedroom crying in the bedroom.

It was cold outside, and the result was a nice layer of frost on the windshield of the Crossfire. Jonathon slid into the driver’s seat, turned on the car and flipped on the defrost. He flipped open the glove box and found that the scraper wasn’t in there. “This whole staying the night is turning into a real pain in the ass,” he thought.

Getting back out he walked over to Amy’s car to get her scraper only to find the car locked. “There’s no way I’m going back in there and dealing with her again,” he muttered under his breath.

Climbing back into the car Jonathon just sat there in the dark looking at the illuminated dash, waiting for the warmth to kick in and his dashboard to clear.

It took about three minutes for him to get impatient. The defroster had just started to work and two small half moons of clean windshield slowly grew from the dash. Jonathon flipped on the windshield wipers, hoping they would help clear the glass faster, but it was to no avail, they simply swooshed back and forth with no effect.

“It will clear soon enough,” he said aloud, “I don’t have time to just sit here.”