Lost in Numbers

by on October 28th, 2010
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He stared almost transfixed at his digital clock, looking hard at it, as if it were supposed to reveal something else to him other than the time. Today was the day he found out the results from his lab test, and the anticipation was eating at him. The lab had told him they would be contacting him by phone sometime today and it was already evening “why hadn’t they called?” he wondered.

Suddenly the phone rang, shattering the silence in his quiet and dimly-lit room. The ringer had been deliberately set to loud to be sure He didn’t miss the call when it came. He darted for the phone, knocking over his glass of recently poured wine, barely missing the lamp stand.

“Hello, Hello who is this?” he inquired. On the other end was the voice of woman, one he hadn’t heard before “This is DR Maggie from the Lab, am I speaking with James?”

“This is James” he replied impatiently.

“Well James, I’m calling to go over the results of the test we ran, but I’m afraid there is really not much to go over, the entire test came back negative. I’m sorry James but medically there is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “how was this possible?” He thought to himself. Surely it must be a mistake. “Thank you doctor, I appreciate the call” He hung up the phone and looked at the time; there it was again 3:33PM.

He had begun noticing the number 333 ever since a hunting accident almost claimed his life a year ago. He had been out hunting by himself when he caught sight of a majestic animal he thought was a bear. While stalking the animal he fell into a deep ravine and was knocked unconscious, only to be reawaken three days later in a hospital. He was told that he was found on the side of the highway 30 miles from where he was hunting.

After the accident, he began noticing the number 333. At first he thought it was a mere coincident, but the numbers kept reappearing everywhere. He noticed it on bill boards, coffee makers, digital clocks, license plates, phones, t-shirts, movies, and photographs. Every day since the accident he had seen the numbers; sometime two or three times a day. Then he started hearing voices calling out the numbers, at first it was a whispers now he could hear the voices vividly. He had hope the lab results would show something wrong with him, maybe some sort of brain injury sustained during the accident.

He poured himself a fresh glass of wine, and sank deep into his chair. “What the hell is going on with me?” He pondered. He knew whatever it was, was getting progressively worse, he needed to act now. He had always thought about returning to the scene of the accident but was too scared, now it appeared to be his only hope. He downed glass after glass of wine, until the alcohol had calmed his nerves and headed out the door. He was never heard from again.

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