Who are you?: Psychological Thriller
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About this ebook
Kay Schornstheimer
Kay Schornstheimer, geboren 1982 in Mainz, ist ein bekannter DJ in der Rockszene im Rhein-Main-Gebiet. Diverse Kurzgeschichten veröffentlichte er auf seinem 2008 erstellten Autorenblog PULP LETTERS, der bis 2014 bestand. Sein erster Roman DOPE69 erschien 2011. Sein zweites Buch, wurde zuerst auf Englisch mit dem Titel Who are you? 2016 veröffentlicht. Die Veröffentlichung der deutschen Fassung, die den Namen Das Handy trägt, folgte wenige Monate später. 2019 erschien sein drittes Buch Der neugierige GEORGE und das EBOLA-VIRUS.
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Book preview
Who are you? - Kay Schornstheimer
About the Author
Kay Schornstheimer was born in 1982 in Mainz/ Germany.
His first short stories he published on his author blog PULP LETTERS
that existed from 2008 till 2014.
His first novel DOPE69 has been released in 2011 by BoD.
Besides his work as an author, he is in the Rhine-Main area / Germany, a famous DJ in the local rock scene.
The Act and all characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any similarity to persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
For
João Carlos (Mr. White) Oliveira Matos
Based on the short story:
Das Handy
By Kay Schornstheimer, published in 2008 on www.pulp-letters.com
For
Frank (called) Bongartz
Sometimes I wish I am taking a sharp carpet knife and putting it between my big toe and the one next to it. Then I am pulling it out hard and slipping it through to the end.
I dream of unfolding myself from my shelf and slipping away.
Finally free and untroubled!
Great idea, isn´t it?
Table of Contents
Searching for Help
Incorrectly connected (How it all happened...)
Powerless
Escape
And now...?
Searching Help II
Disappear Here.
The end is not over yet...
Epilogue
Searching for Help
I am standing in front of Rita's door.
I need her help, but I think I will not knock.
But what alternatives do I have?
My best friend is dead; there are no other friends left.
I have no siblings.
And my parents? Forget them!
I do not have anyone.
Rita and I are not together for more than four months. We broke up on good terms. I accepted her desire of separation without making a problem out of it. We know each other from our childhood onwards, and she could always rely on me.
So why would not she help me?
Overcome it, and do it finally
I say to myself.
Now!
I must do it. Just do it - damn it, do it!
I knock. Rita opens the door, we look at each other, and she closes the door again.
Go away, Dirk!
she screams through the closed door.
I did not imagine our meeting will be like this, but I cannot blame her for that. I would also do the same at the first moment.
Come on, let me in Rita… I beg you!
Go or I will call the police!" she screams hysterically.
Why the police?
Do you want to muck me around?
An eligible question, I have to admit. I cannot give her a reason why should not she call the police.
But she could at least listen to me and what I have to say.
That was not me! Please believe me!
You went and left him lying there. Do you know that they will find you? The Criminal Investigation Department came to me and asked about you.
So far, the investigation on me looks like this: they have already checked out my past. They know all the details about my life. Which school I have attended, what is my occupation, who are my friends, what my relationship status is, how much money do I have on my account, whether I got speeding ticket, simply everything. I feel exposed.
I was tricked. You have to believe me! I am innocent! Could I otherwise come here?
She does not say anything.
Rita, I do not know where I should go. You are the only one who can help me.
After I had made this statement, I immediately realized that it is the truth. I know that it is my last chance to prove my innocence.
I am making a break to carefully think about what I should say next. At the same moment, the door behind me is opening. One of Rita's neighbors is coming in the hallway from her apartment. It is Mrs. Schneider, an elderly lady who has already reached the age of retirement and lives alone. I know her more or less by sight from the time I was living there. Rita does not like her because she has always complained about alleged noise and other things.
What in God´s name is going on here, what does this mean?
she rumbles.
I became angry and before turning around I moved my hands from Rita's door.
Fuck you bitch, before I tear your head off and puke in your neck!
I shouted at Rita's neighbor.
Shocked from what I told her, she immediately went back to her apartment. I hear she locked the door twice and put the chain on the door.
And what are you expecting from me now, to let you in?
Rita asks me. Although she probably liked this play with her neighbor. But even I am shocked by my aggressiveness. I do not actually act like that at all.
Shit ...
I curse quietly to myself. I turn back to her apartment door.
Simply go, Dirk, disappear from here!
You know that I didn't do it, you know me. You told me I am your favorite guy in the world, and I have never done something that disapproves it.
This sentence brings a moment of silence.
Let me please in, and I will tell you everything about what actually happened.
You want to talk about it?
Yes.
Then start talking. But you are not going to cross the door, it is clear
!
And your neighbor
?
I do not care
.
You cannot let me in?
I implore her to note how uncomfortable to me it is to stand here.
You are trying in vain, Dirk,
she says with a mixture of fear and anger in her voice.
I sat down with my back against her door and leaned on it.
Are you going to start talking soon?
I can clearly understand that she rejects me. And I cannot even blame her. Care from her side is the last thing is can expect now. The man she used to know is wiped out because of the recent events.
She was taken to a vague memory that had never corresponded to the truth. This new image that she has about me, is the same as that of an evil monster. She finds everything overwhelming, even listening to me but she refuses any kind of escape.
She is a prisoner in her own apartment. In her small two-room apartment, without balcony, on the third floor. She cannot even jump from the window without being seriously hurt by falling on cemented floor. Despite the last option she is left with, namely to call the police, she does nothing.
Instead, she throws me a bone in the form of a small chance to prove her that I am really innocent.
But rather of being grateful to her, I get even more angry and frustrated by her behavior.
It is OK ... God!
The anger in my voice can only make the situation worse. I would like to jump and cross her door. But it would make the image of evil monster even stronger. Thus I decide to continue talking and, if possible, to sound resignedly. It was on Thursday, and everything has started with my cellphone.
With your cellphone?
she asks confused.
Yes, with my cellphone. Please shut up now and listen to me.
I am still irritated and annoyed, but in a quieter tone of voice just to make her know that I don´t want to be interrupted.
So it was Thursday and ...
Incorrectly connected
(How it all happened...)
Dennis comes for a visit, we spend our time drinking alcohol, smoking dope and playing
Angry Birds.
And we pose important questions to ourselves: Is Elvis still alive, and if yes, is he in