Free Handing

The Calling

Mike returns to his apartment within the hour he was fired. He luckily didn't live that far away from the building in which he used to work, but he had a system to leave his house five minutes before he was supposed to be at work. The drive to the workplace was really short, no more than two minutes, so he could afford to leave as late as he does. Seeing as his car had broken down, he had figured the walk would go as fast as he drove, but it took way longer.

He unlocks the door and pushes. It doesn't budge. He tries again, to no such luck. He lets his head back and lets out a heavy sigh. He forces the grime covered door, stuck because of the shoddy door frame construction, and it finally gives. With a heavy sigh, he throws his bag to the floor and walks to the fridge. He opens it and pulls out a slice of cold pizza. He would rather have it warm, but he had to sell his microwave to pay the last months rent.

The phone rings in the silence like a bomb. Mike, startled, quickly runs to pick up the receiver. As he holds the phone to his ears, a gruff female voice emits from the other side.

"This is that Dreemurr boy, correct?" The voice says. Mike, concerned why the landlord was calling, was cautious to answer.

"Yes, this is him. What can I do for you, ma'am?" He asks.

"Pack up your things. You are being evicted." She says, her words like ice to Mike's ears.

Mike could not believe what he was hearing. He was being evicted on the same day he was fired. He almost blacks out.

"This is a joke, right?" Mike asks weakly. He already knew the answer, he just wanted to make sure that he was correct.

The woman on the other end of the call sighs heavily.

"How many times do I have to tell you Dreemurr that I don't make jokes? The client I replaced you with is moving in in two days. You have one day starting now to move out. If I find you squatting, I will not hesitate to seek legal action." She says and hangs up before Mike can respond.

Mike dropped the phone and began to cry. He didn't try to stop the tears from falling. He only knew despair as he felt his whole world begin to crumble around him. All seems lost to him, and he loses himself to his thoughts.

After a while, he regains enough composure to begin to pack up his few belongings. His computer, his few pairs of clothing, and the box with the stuff from his office. As he takes the box, which he had thrown to the couch as he walked home, up in his arms, he notices that a small piece of folded up paper had appeared that hadn't been there before.

Mike, now confused and intrigued, puts the box down and picks up the paper, and unfolds it to its full length. The handwriting on it was unfamiliar to him, but he recognized it as he read on.

To Mike-

I know what you are going through is hard. I know because you and I are going through the same thing. This whole ordeal sucks, but we have to remain positive. So here is my number. Call me whenever your luck turn sour, and I will help you fix it. Just call me.

-Chara

Mike stared at the note in shock. He reread it three times more before he realized that it was authentic. He wonders then how Chara had gotten the note there, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind as he saw there was a number there.

He quickly picks his phone off the ground and dials the number, but before he presses the call button, he wonders what to say. What if he messes it up? What if Chara can't handle him? What if he can't help Chara? What if this was an elaborate prank meant to ruin him even more?

He finally decides to press the button, and the dial tone turns into a ringing. He waits about a minute before the other end clicks. Chara's voices emits from the phone.

"I was wondering when you'd call."