No Return Policy

The window glistened with light kisses of dew, reflecting the deep red of the sun, just waking up across the event horizon. Light slowly trickled into the room, casting shadows around her walls. She was crying, her face buried in her arms. The floor of her room was littered with empty tissue boxes and crumpled, tear-soaked sheets. Shattered picture frames, glass shards, and sleeping pills were huddled in a mix on the counter. The alarm at the head of her bed flashed and flickered: six o’clock.

There was a ravenous knock at the door, as the landlord called out, “Hey! Get your stuff and move out! A new tenant’s coming in a couple of minutes…one that’ll actually pay their rent!” The knocking continued, but the woman remained unmoved. The landlord groaned and left in a huff. It was silent once more, if not for the cries of the woman.

A bird landed outside her windowsill, its chirrups mostly blocked out by the glass pane. However, the soft sound was loud enough to catch the woman’s attention. She looked up and out the window, her eyes caught unaware by the sunlight. She stared for a little while and thought to herself. In that moment, her entire life danced across her mind, though barely expending a minute. With a sudden determination, with a sudden ardor in her step, the woman walked towards the window and threw it open. The bird flew away in panic.

A breeze entered the room, glazing her face with gentle touches and a chilling nibble across the cheeks. Her hair rustled in the wind, as she climbed onto the ledge, and stood outside her window. She felt freedom for the first time in her life, entirely free of the responsibilities and constraints that had held her down for so long. She could hear no screaming. She could hear no dishonest lies. She could see no face, wrought with disappointment and betrayal. All she could hear were the whispers of the wind. All she could see was the concrete floor, thirty stories below her feet. Imagining the fall, she wiped away her tears and inhaled the crisp air.

A phone rang.

She winced, but did not take her eyes off of the floor below. She closed her eyes and blocked out all the noise.

But she could not block out the second ring.

She sighed. All she had wanted was peace, a moment to relax and get away from it all. She stepped back into her room and angrily picked up the phone and hurled it against the far wall. The phone stopped ringing, as it lay in a broken heap on the floor. The woman turned away and headed for the open expanse.

But she stopped halfway there. A voice was coming from the phone.

“Hello? Hello? Is a ‘Ms. Alice’ there?”

The woman slowly walked up to the remains of the phone. Curious, she replied, “This…this is she.”

The voice cleared its throat before continuing, “Ah, I thought I heard someone there. I thought you might’ve hung up on me.”

“Who is this?” Alice asked, picking through the pieces, searching for the receiver.

The voice, apparently a man’s, paused for a moment and then answered, “Before I tell you who I am, will you promise me that you won’t hang up or leave until I get everything said and done?”

Though Alice did not wish to be delayed any longer, she began to take an interest in the voice. Curious, she responded with an, “I promise.”

“Then I’ll tell you. I’m a telemarketer, you see.”

Alice smiled to herself, laughing on the inside about how much a fool she was. It was just another man intent on tricking her with lies and scandals, selling an inferior product for twice what it was truly worth. And here she thought, for an instant, that there was a glimmering sliver of hope that it might’ve been someone who would’ve cared enough to call her, and tell her that her life was worth living. Disappointed, she turned away, only to be stopped by the man’s voice, “Don’t walk away. You promised, didn’t you?”

Alice hesitated, and then turned back to the pile of pieces. It was not the promise that had made her change her mind; it was the fact that the man had addressed her as someone who was walking away, as opposed to taking a pause or hanging up. How had he known? Or had she given it too much thought? Alice could hear her own heartbeat, the tempo increasing with every step she took towards returning to the voice.

She whispered, somewhat startled, “Yes, I did promise to you. Now what is it you want to sell me?”

“You sure get straight to the point, don’t you?” the man asked with a laugh. “Well, I’m selling a one of a kind product, not even out in stores yet! But honestly, I’ve just been dying to give someone the opportunity of owning said product, and I personally want to say, you have been given the first in purchasing it!”

“Sorry, but I’m not interested.”

“Wait just one second, ma’am! You haven’t even found out what it is that I’m selling!”

Alice sighed. “Sorry, whatever it is, it’s of no use to me now.”

The man scoffed and said, “Now, why would you say that?”

Growing impatient with every second, Alice shook her head and began to climb out of her window. The air was still, the breeze had died down, the birds had stopped singing, and the sun had not moved from the last time she checked. All was silent, until the man’s voice rang out loud and clear: “Can’t you spare a minute or two? It’s not like time wasted is going to matter to someone who’s about to die.”

Suddenly, a wash of sickness overwhelmed Alice. Her head began to pound as fervently as the beatings of her heart on her chest. The blood in her face rushed inwards, leaving behind nothing but a landscape of pure white. She stumbled on the ledge, but caught herself before tumbling over. Alice gripped at her heart, trying unsuccessfully to subdue the throbbing sensation. She looked back into the room, at the mess of wires and sparks. Looking in through her window, the room looked dark and empty. Fear drove her to the edge, yet curiosity won her over for the moment as she called back, “How did you know…?”

The voice on the phone replied, “Let’s just say I’m…perceptive.” There was a slight pause, as if the voice were waiting for Alice to object against the meager explanation. However, it never came and the voice continued, “I know quite a bit about you, Alice. I know you’re 23 years of age, as of 2 months, 13 days, 2 hours, 6 minutes, and 54 seconds ago. 55. 56. 57… I know you went to the psychiatrist’s office yesterday afternoon. A fairly unproductive session, wouldn’t you say? And you got off the phone last night, two hours past midnight, arguing with your boyfriend. Sorry, ‘ex-boyfriend,’ would be the correct term. The landlord came knocking at six this morning, right on the dot. Evicted, was it? Four months overdue, was it?” The voice took a deep breath.

“Now, please don’t jump just yet,” the voice pleaded, as Alice loosened her footing. “You see, there’s two ways you can take this: The first way is that you could write me off as some creep, some stalker, some fool stricken with some form of dementia, or a child with too much time on his hands. And it’s completely understandable that you might think so and that you’re afraid right now…”

Alice’s mind and body were in conflict. Her body told her to jump, to release herself from further fear and aggravation. But her mind told her to wait until the last moment, until the voice could tell her…

“What is the second way?”

“I’m glad you asked,” the voice said, with a twinkle in its tone, “I’m really glad you asked…!”

Alice waited for the answer. A bead of perspiration on her forehead had run cold and stopped along its course. She held her breath, waiting for the response. When nothing came, she called out in almost a hysterical voice, “What? What is the other way I could take this!? There’s nothing but the first! I don’t want to believe it, but there’s no way but the first!!” She waited, her breathing heavy and her head faint.

The phone went dead.

And Alice followed in pursuit.

Leaning back, releasing her grip on the window’s edges, Alice fell out of the apartment building. She closed her eyes, now overflowing with tears. In the mere seconds of the fall, Alice was swept with more than just the wind, but with emotion. What had been the point of all that? Alice thought to herself. She realized that if she had just decided not to continue speaking with the man, she could’ve gone in peace, or whatever little dignity she had left. Now, fear, insecurity, loss, loneliness, sadness; nearly every dark emotion and feeling was left swirling within her like an abysmal torrent.

I don’t want to die like this.

There was a sudden thud. But not the kind of thud represented by the fall of a body on concrete, but that of a body falling onto a bed after a hard day’s work... Alice had landed on a mattress, which was currently being held by two young and startled men. The landlord rushed outside, shouting, “Alice! My god, are you alright!?”

The young men put the mattress down slowly and looked over her in a frantic manner. Alice lifted herself up with a surprised look. Glancing about, she spotted a moving van, apparently unloading in front of the apartment.

“Thank god you’re alright! You’re okay, right? Right!?” the landlord pestered Alice with questions, as he continued with an exasperated praise, “Thank god you’re alright! What happened!? How did you fall!? It’s a miracle that the moving van just got here and began to bring up the tenant’s things! And right at that very moment, too! My, wouldn’t it have been absolutely dreadful if they had started with the piano before the bedding? An absolute miracle, it really is!” and on and on…

But Alice had stopped paying attention to the flustered landlord and the two confused moving men, for an astounding noise erupted from the streets. At that very moment, from every house, every store, every building along the street, the phones began to ring.

Pushing past the landlord, Alice rushed back into the apartment building, picking up the nearest phone on the receptionist’s desk. “Hello? Hello!?” she called into the phone.

“How do you like the product so far?” the voice asked.

“What are you talking about? What product?”

“The one I sold you. Don’t worry, I gave you a discount, seeing as to how you probably need the money. No offense; just looking out for you. Anyway, the product’s one of a kind. You can’t get it anywhere else! And yet, you’ve had it all along,” the voice responded with a sincere expression.

“What is it? What did you sell me?”

“It was the gift of life. Another chance at it, that is. Usually, one would say life’s priceless, but to me, it can be bought with seven easy payments of $7.77!” The voice laughed. But it wasn’t a mocking or cynical laugh, it was an honest, heartfelt laugh. “But seriously, there’s one problem about dealing with telemarketers such as myself…we have a strict no return policy. You can’t give it up now. Things may not always go your way, and at times, the product might seem faulty, defected, or down-right broken beyond repair. But sometimes, it takes more than your own perspective to determine what’s over and what’s not. Contrary to popular belief, humanity was born to live, not to die. But I’m sure, with a superior product like yours, you wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world, am I right?”

There was a long pause, as Alice tried to hold back her tears. Moments later, the landlord entered the building, gently placed his hand on Alice’s shoulder, and said, “Alice…the new tenant was just here. He told me he’s no longer interested in the room, and…and he’s left all his things to you. I tried asking him why he did that or how he knew you, but he left saying he was busy talking with someone on the phone…”

“What was his name?” Alice asked.

“He told me you would know him as ‘Fate,’ or something like that. I’m not sure; he was kind of in a hurry to get back to his conversation…”

Alice began to cry. And for what seemed like the first time in her life, not out of sadness or out of fear. Not out of pity or doubt, shame or discontent. She cried out of thankfulness and happiness, and a single but sure tear of hope.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the phone.

“Always a pleasure.”