What a day! It was one of those days. A day where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Long, exhausting meetings, listening to one self-important fool after another. Hours dragging endlessly by. I am beyond tired. Even my breath feels heavy in my chest. I let myself into my apartment and slump onto the couch. My body aches from exhaustion, my soul is tired from the endless nonsense I had to deal with. I sometimes wonder if it is worth it, if I shouldn’t just end it all.
“Karl.” The voice starts. Always softly, seductively whispering my name. “Karl, I am here, come to me.” Soft, sensual whispering. The voice that cost me everything. My house, my children, my previous job, my family. All gone because of the voice. And yet that voice controls me. I love it and hate it. I yearn for it and loathe it.
“Karl, I’m waiting for you.” My wife couldn’t handle the voice. We fought about it endlessly. How I preferred the seductive voice over hers. We tried everything; counselling, doctors, therapy. Nothing could quell my longing for the voice. I needed that soft voice like I needed air.
It started simple enough. A quick fling, no commitment. No strings attached. Or so I thought. But after a while that voice was in my head more often, offering me sweet release. Offering to make the world go away for a while. I gave in to the voice more and more. My wife begged me to stop. She begged me to think of the children, and of what my family would think. But I couldn’t, I was hooked.
“Karl, let me make everything better for you. You know I can. You know you want me to.” That soft whisper. It gets my heart racing. But I resist it. I close my eyes and try to think of everything that I have lost because of that voice. My wife finally couldn’t take it anymore.
One day I came home to find the house empty. She had taken the kids. The divorce papers were on the kitchen table. Once again I turned to the voice for comfort. She wouldn’t just pack up and leave me. My family turned their backs on me. I was an outcast. No-one wanted to talk to me. The phone calls and e-mails stopped. My Facebook page was a lonely place.
I shift my weight on the couch, trying to get comfortable, my body aching with weariness. “Karl, I am here for you. Come to me.” I try and block out the voice again. The voice that cost me my job. After the divorce, I gave in to the voice every chance I got. Lunch time I would sneak away from the office and enjoy my time with the voice. It started affecting my work. I couldn’t wait to get done so that I could spend time with the voice. Eventually my superiors couldn’t handle it anymore, and I found myself unemployed. The voice comforted me through my search for another job. It provided comfort every time that I thought of all that I had lost. I finally found a low-end job as an admin clerk for an insurance company. It was extremely dull work. My co-workers annoyed me, and my managers annoyed me even more. But they didn’t care about the voice. I could spend time with the voice, as long as it didn’t affect my work.
I opened my eyes and looked around my one bedroom apartment. It was a far cry from the four bedroom house in an upmarket suburb that I had shared with my wife and children. My current apartment was dull and grey. I didn’t even really bother furnishing it that much. There was no point. I haven’t seen my children in years. My family still weren’t speaking to me. I had no friends to talk to.
Only her, only the voice. And she didn’t care what my apartment looked like. “Karl, you had a rough day. Let me make it better for you. Let me help you.” I finally look at her. At the reason I lost everything. At my only lifeline. With a sigh I get up and walk towards her. Towards my addiction. Towards the bottle.