The sunlight that seeped into the room, through the closed Venetian blinds, resonated a wake-up call louder than the alarm clock had managed earlier that morning. With a disturbed demeanor, Eric rolled onto the other side of the bed, shielding himself away from the window. As he fluffed the pillow to prop up his head, his hands slid against a wet substance that he immediately wrote off as drool. Tossing even more, trying harder to fight the awakening of his body, he began to feel more spots of drool along the surface of the bed. With much chagrin, he finally allowed himself to wake up, and greet the day. Sitting up on the bed he held his face in his palms, thinking to himself about the day that was before him. When his eyes finally opened, truly signifying the start of his day, his first vision was of the spot of blood on his pillow and on the bed. Startled, he hopped onto the floor, making quick strides to the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror showed traces of dried up saliva and blood around his lips.

 

“Not again!” he whispered to himself as he washed his face clean. Slowly walking back to the bright bedroom, Eric stood looking at the blood on his sheets. For weeks, he has been trying to ignore the signs that something might be wrong. With all of the stress of the last few months, convincing himself that this too will pass has been his only source of comfort. But this morning, seeing the blood on his pillow one more time, he began to feel the slight tinge of worry in his mind.

 

While drying off his skin from the shower, Eric hears the phone ring and decides to let the machine answer it for him. The sound of Marilyn’s voice froze him in place briefly, as he listened to her message. The softness of her tone always made him smile. The way she seemed to breathe out each sentence as she talked made her words always sound gentle, regardless of their intent. A part of him wanted to rush to the phone, to speak with her after such a long period of silence between them, but he knew things wouldn’t change. As her message ends, the click from her receiver snaps Eric out of his slight trance.

 

The silence of the apartment reminds Eric of his life with each passing day. It has been four months since being fired from his job, and the prospects of finding work dwindle more and more each day. The graduation plaque he received from Syracuse lies in its place on the floor in the eat-in kitchen near the over-flowing garbage can. He never imagined how hard it would be to secure a job outside of college, but recently he has been learning that lesson well. Sitting on a futon in the middle of an empty room, Eric holds the phone in his hand, contemplating calling Marilyn back. As he sits there, the deafening silence is suddenly ended with the phone’s ring, shocking Eric again.

 

“Hello, my I help you?” he asks after the third ring from the unknown caller.

 

“Hi, good morning, can I please speak with Mr. Rollins?” says the sweet voice on the other end of the line. The unfamiliar voice makes Eric recall all of the people he’s met in the last few months, but none of them fit the voice.

 

“Yea, this is he. May I ask who is calling?”

 

“Hello Mr. Rollins, my name is Tricia, administrative assistant to Gordan Wells, of Wellness Inc. You contacted us about our vacant Program Manager position and we would like to invite you in for an initial interview. Will you be available the afternoon of December 13^th?” Eric could not contain his excitement at this opportunity. After two months of no call backs to any resume he has sent out, finally an opportunity has surfaced.

 

“Yes, yes I am available on that day. That is a Thursday, am I right?” he asks, trying to mask his joy.

 

“You are correct sir!” she replies with a noticeable glee in her tone. “You will be meeting with Mr. Wells at 2 p.m. for a 30 minute Q and A. I would also like to add that if for any reason you can not make it, just let us know because we will be interviewing a few candidates that week. Do you have any other questions Mr. Rollins?” Unable to think anymore clearer, he lets her know that he has no more questions and that he looks forward to meeting her next week.

 

Hanging up the phone, Eric pumps his fist into the air and bellows an inaudible cheer. Walking around in circles, unsure of what to do next, he picks up the phone and begins to dial Marilyn’s number. Just as he goes to complete the call, the phone rings again, causing a momentary jump out of him. Eric looks at the number on the receiver and recognizes the number instantly.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello, Eric? This is Joseph from doctor George’s office. Do you have a moment?” Still excited from the previous call, Eric sits back into the chair to continue this new conversation.

 

“Yea Joseph, I have some time, what can I do for you?”

 

“The doctor would like for you to come back in for a second consultation. Are you able to come in tomorrow?”

 

“Yea, tomorrow is cool. What time?” he replies slightly warily. Eric disliked going to doctors for the same reason he hated visiting the mechanic. Every time he finally decides to go to one, he finds himself always receiving some dire news. However, with the recent nose bleeds, and severe migraine headaches, Eric finds himself a bit more worried than upset.

 

“1:30 in the afternoon. Can I pencil you in?”

 

“Sure, but is everything okay?” The semi-reassuring reply from Joseph did very little to ease Eric’s growing worries. The elation from the job opportunity now took a back seat to his medical concerns. No longer in the mood to start a conversation with his daughter’s mother, Eric puts the phone down with her number still blinking on the LCD display. He sat in silence for a while, thinking over his life up until this point. Solemn, he rises out the chair and begins walking to the bedroom to change out of his sleepwear, but experiences trouble when getting totally to his feet. As if floating instead of standing, his steps grew more and more unstable. Soon, the uneasiness made the trip to the bedroom a major chore. As the room and the world around him fade into a fuzzy haze, Eric slumps onto the floor in the doorway, again, knocking his head on the floor.