Enver Huzjak (zvati) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-01-17 02:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | enver huzjak |
WHO: Enver Huzjak (CROATIA) & NPCs.
WHAT: Enver calls home to let his family know he's okay.
WHEN: Backdated to last Wednesday, January 9th.
WHERE: Enver's room at IVI.
WARNINGS: Feels?
STATUS: Completed narrative.
Nursing the room's landline phone in one hand and his calling card in the other, Enver blinked once, took a breath and then blinked again, not sure how long had passed each time he closed his eyes. He had already been holding the phone for half an hour now, trying to work up the nerve and failing each time. Telling himself that it wouldn't be-- that it couldn't be that bad-- he lifted the phone and carefully punched in each digit of the international dialling code and then his family's phone number, butterflies pitching in his stomach as he brought the headset to his ear and heard each ring. "Zdravo?" "Hi, Mama." He waited for her reply and got only silence, followed by a sharp 'click' as the line terminated. Recoiling as though the phone had struck him, he stared at in horror, his mouth a small 'o'. No. It couldn't have been, he told himself. It was a bad connection. Clinging to that hope, he dialled again, fingers shaking as he punched the number in. Ring. "Zdravo?" "Mama, hi..." Silence. Click. As he dialled again, the numbers seemed harder to make out, his vision blurred and he had to fumble his way through it three times, messing up the international codes the first two times. Ring. Ring. Ring. "Enver?" "Papa? I was calling, the line got cut off--" He stuttered, rushing his words "It kept getting cut off, I just wanted to let you know I am okay, there was-- it was bad, but I am okay." A sigh and then, "We know, they told us. But... Enver, you shouldn't call again." He frowned, waiting for an explanation, "...papa?" "Your mother, she is... she needs time." "Is she angry?" "She's upset. What you did, what you are--" His voice cracked as he tried to interject, "It was a mistake, I'm sorry." "She needs time, Enver." The lump forming in his throat made it hard to speak and he had to swallow twice before he could murmur, "How much time?" Another sigh. "If they let you come home for a holiday again, Easter maybe... you should stay at the school." "Okay." "And--" Silence fell across the line for a few moments, "And if they let you go... if the school finishes and you have learned enough to come back ho-- to Croatia, then you should find somewhere to stay. An apartment, maybe." "...okay?" He could hear his voice echo on the line, barely a whisper. More a squeak. "You're old enough to move out and... it would be easier for us all." "Okay, Papa. I-- I love you." "...I will talk to you soon, Enver." Staring down at the phone as the line cut out again, the young boy gingerly set it back down on its base, steadying it with shaky hands. Pulling his legs up onto his bed he stared across the room, and found himself selfishly-- monstrously, he thought-- glad to have the room to himself. His shoulders and chest shaking as he drew in one shallow, ragged breath after another, he tried to calm himself down. It would all be okay. Somehow. |