The Actress

What can you say about poor old Rita? What was once a Hollywood star on the big screen now reduced to doing television just to pay the bills and keep her house. At 40 years old it seemed like her days were done and she hated every minute of it. She especially detested being called a has been from every tabloid paper in town. Tonight, all she did was lay on the couch, channel surfing until the batteries of her remote were dead.

Her cell buzzed in the pocket of her silk robe. Once she saw the familiar name on screen she hung up without hesitating. The name belonged to her long time agent, Max, who lately has had trouble finding good parts just for her. Rita had stopped talking to him after his latest disappointment, but after three more calls she decided to speak to him as nice as she possibly could, even though she wasn't known for being nice.

"What the hell do you want?" She asked. "I'm a little busy."

"Are you still mad at me?" Max asked.

"Now why would you think that?"

"Give me a break, Rita. You can't blame me for not getting you that part."

"Who should I blame, your dog? Your mistress of the evening?"

"I know how much that part meant to you."

"I don't think you do. I needed that part."

"I fought for you. I did all I could, believe me. I'll find something."

"I am tired of doing television and I'm not doing any made for DVD, b-movie bullshit. I won't do it. Do me a favor and leave me the hell alone."

"Rita."

She hung up on him, going back to channel surfing. Three minutes later her cell buzzed again. Instead of Max it read unknown and Rita hated having to deal with wrong numbers.

"Yes?" She answered.

"Is Kelly home?" The caller asked.

"No, she ran away from home and said she doesn't want to see you again, so fuck off."

Another hang up from Rita until someone else decided to give her a call. Like before it read unknown. Maybe it was this Kelly calling about whomever that was just now.

"Yes?" Said Rita.

"Good evening, Rita," said a female voice.

"Who is this?"

"I'm an admirer of your work."

"Are you a fan?"

"Not exactly."

"So why are you calling me then?"

"I just needed to hear your voice. I waited a long time for this."

"Why are you talking that way? Are you trying to sound like me? That's very disrespectful."

"No, this is my voice."

"No, it ain't. Is this a joke? Jenny is that you? You playing jokes?"

"It's not a joke. This is really my voice."

"Whatever you say, Jenny. Have a goodnight."

"Wait."

Jenny was an old friend who had the habit of pulling pranks on Rita. She thought maybe this was her messing around and trying to cheer her up. Again Rita's phone buzzed only this time it was someone from her past. A certain someone she had trouble getting rid of.

"What do you want, Willie?" She asked.

"Rita, baby. I missed you."

"What do you want?"

"I thought we had something."

"All we did was fuck around and having fun; that's it. You seriously need to move on before you end up lonely for the rest of your life."

"You mean like you?"

"I'm nothing like you. Do yourself a favor and stop calling me."

"How could you-."

Rita hung up before he said one more word. It was at a party where she met up with Willie who was once a big male star in the business. To Rita it was all about sex but Willie hoped it would lead to something more than that. Rita wanted nothing more from him after a great fuck. Her cell buzzed once more and again the unknown caller contacted her.

"Why did you hang up on me?" The caller asked. "That was very rude."

"What do you want, Jenny?" Rita asked.

"Who said I was Jenny?"

"This is a joke, right?"

"Maybe it is, but I'm not the one telling jokes. Maybe we can share jokes when I meet you."

"I seriously doubt that."

"I don't."

"Goodnight."

Another hang up and soon another phone call. This time Max did the calling with another attempt at apologizing.

"What?" Rita asked.

"I'm really worried about you."

"Why is that?"

"Come on, Rita, cut me some slack."

"I loved to cut you in your sleep."

"I'm sorry that Jill got that part, but she's becoming a star. What the hell was I suppose to do?"

The thought of the young starlet rising sickened Rita to her very core. Rita was waiting for that one role that would lead her to the top once again. The one role that was hers for the taking snatched away due to the fact the studio wanted someone younger, completely insulting Rita's intelligence.

"A star?" Said Rita. "That little whore can't act her way out of a bag of dog shit. She's arrogant, full of herself, and that voice of hers. Who is she, Betty Boop? I wish she broke her leg so I wouldn't have to hear her name for a whole month."

"Rita," said Max, attempting to calm her down. "Take it easy, will ya?"

"Take it easy? Why is everyone pissing me off tonight? First you, then Jill, and then some asshole on the phone trying to sound like me."

"Who?"

"They didn't say. I thought maybe it was Jenny fooling around or something."

"Rita."

"Don't Rita me. That part was mine, damn it. Mine. Do you understand? Of course not, you're just an agent. You don't understand my feelings."

"The hell does that mean? I've always been loyal to you."

"Max, until my face is back on that big screen, I don't want to know you or what you do in your spare time. Goodbye."

Rita went back to her TV, discovering an old film starring her younger self. She watched for a few minutes before changing the channel. She was in no mood in taking a trip down memory lane even though that very film was one of her earlier hits. Rita thought about getting a bottle of vino and drink herself to sleep, but the idea was dropped once the unknown caller harassed her yet again.

"You're a very rude person," said the caller.

"What else is new?" Rita said sarcastically. "What the hell do you want? I've got enough problems of my own."

"I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Let's just say we have a lot in common."

"I think not."

"I know you, Rita. I know you like it was yesterday."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know everything about you. I know what you desire. I know what you eat. I even know your first fuck. Chuck, right? You lost your virginity at seventeen. Am I correct so far?"

Rita had never told anyone about that story. How could this stranger know all about her past when she shared it with no one?

"Who is this?" Rita asked impatiently. "Are you some tabloid asshole trying to blackmail me? Forget it, you're getting shit from me."

"You got it all wrong", said the caller, "it has nothing to do with blackmail."

"Then what? What is it that you want?"

"I just want to talk to you."

"Talk to me about what? You want to know about my life? My Career? Tell me."

"None of the above."

"What then?"

"I just want to hear your young voice one last time."

"One last time?"

"One last time...before I kill you."

Rita rose from her couch, with a cold shiver rising up her spine.

"Did I get your attention?" The caller asked. "By now you're wondering why I'm doing this. Let's just say I'm setting things right."

"What things?" Rita asked.

"I'll show you soon enough."

"Don't even think about coming here. I got a gun and a dog."

"You don't have a gun. You hated guns since you did that western years ago and you don't have a dog because you're allergic to them. You don't own a taser, stun gun or even know how to fight."

"I have a security system."

"You don't have that either. You figured this neighborhood has never had any robberies so what's the point? You can't lie to me, Rita. I know all about you."

"I'm calling the police."

"You think they'll make it on time before I have my way with you?"

"Go fuck yourself!"

After hanging up, Rita thought about getting a knife from the kitchen but instead headed towards her closet, picking up a bat that was given to her by a ball player she once dated. Rita wanted to hurt the caller by breaking some bones instead of bleeding them out with a knife. Her cell buzzed again and answered despite the fact she could have ignored the call or turn the phone off.

"Hang up all you want," the caller said. "I'm coming in for a visit whether you like it or not."

Rita figured the caller was nearby watching her every move. Perhaps it was a phone prank from one of the neighborhood kids she detests. She approached the window, pulling the curtain aside for a bit, looking for anyone standing outside or peeking out the windows across the street.

"I have a bat," said Rita. "You come near my home and I'll split your skull open."

"Is that the bat given to you by Carlos Rodriquez?"

"How did-."

"He gave that to you after a wonderful evening. Sure he was half your age, but he sure can fuck."

The fact that this person knew details about her personal life disturbed Rita greatly. Perhaps an obsessed fan stalking her without her knowledge? For years she had read stories about crazed fans doing the unthinkable on celebrities. She never thought for once it would ever happen to her.

"Anybody could have told you all that," said Rita. "It doesn't mean that you know me, and I certainly don't want to know you."

"I know this," said the caller, "I'm smarter than you think."

"Well then show yourself. If you're smarter than me then come on in. I'm ready for you."

"Are you ready? You have no idea what's really going on or how this evening means to me."

"What do you want? What the fuck do you want from me?"

"What happen to you, Rita? You were a big star. You had it all on a silver platter and then what? I believe it was your attitude and massive ego that brought you down. It had nothing to do with you getting old and spending your days doing cheesy television films."

"That's bullshit. I was disrespected and everyone was jealous of my success."

"Who's everyone, Rita? The people you slept with because you're lonely? How about the co-stars you mistreated in every film you did? You treated them like second rate amateurs. You demanded that their lines should be yours to use because you were better than them. You drove the directors crazy telling them how this scene works or how they should play out. Even your own son, your only child, wants nothing to do with you."

"You leave him out of this."

"Why? You can't hide from the past, Rita. The past always comes back to haunt you."

Her son was a product of a one night stand after a big birthday party. She was barely a part of his life due to her ever busy schedule, while her hired nannies did all the work raising and keeping him safe. Throughout his life he didn't know her or even believed they were related. No contact was made from either for several years and Rita made zero attempts in reconciling with him.

Rita grew frustrated and annoyed by her mystery caller taunting and pissing her off in the process. She no longer felt nervous or threatened once her attitude started changing and thought she might piss off the caller as well, like she'd done to many people in the past.

"What about you?" She asked. "What's your story? You're mad at me because I'm no longer the star you admired or are you one of those co-stars holding a grudge against me because I treated you unfairly on the set? Let me tell you something, I went to acting class and I had the best teachers on fucking earth while you fakes were discovered in bars and beaches without a shred of talent in you. I made millions on the big screen and won awards on Broadway. You people are the real has beens in Hollywood, reduced to being bottom feeders on the Sunset Strip on a sunny day."

Rita was feeling confident she had the situation all under control. Her mystery caller had been silent for some time, admiring the sound of her voice from afar.

"I slept my way to the top," Rita continued, "and it was all worth it. I have something you dead weights will never have, and that's class. Maybe you should think about that before dealing with the likes of me. What you're doing is very childish and you trying to sound like me is pathetic. Wake up and smell reality for once in your miserable life because I am done playing your little game."

"We're far from done," said the caller.

"No, I am done with you and I'm calling the police."

Before Rita had her chance to call for help, a searing pain ran deep into her back. She dropped the bat and phone, falling forward and keeping her balance towards the fireplace. It didn't take long for Rita to discover she had been stabbed and her mystery caller was solely responsible.

"Good evening, Rita," said the assailant. "I'm very happy to see you finally."

Above the fireplace, Rita grabbed the big vase filled with dead roses, smashing it against the attacker's face. Struggling towards the door, leaving a trail of blood, Rita unlocked it, managing to head out in the open and scream for help. After feeling the impact of the vase, the assailant managed to shake off the cobwebs and go after the intended target.

"Help!" Rita screamed. "Somebody help me! Please help me!"

From behind she was struck down and fell face first on the pavement. The bat she planned to use was thrown against the back of her head by her attacker. Rita was then dragged back inside her house by her ankles, screaming at the neighborhood with a bloody nose.

"No!" She screamed. "Let me go! Help me! Help me please!"

Whether the neighbors heard her or not she would never know. After slamming the door shut, the assailant picked up Rita by the hair, delivering a head butt to her already broken nose.

"It's the hardest thing I've ever done," said the assailant, "for that I'm sorry."

The assailant turned Rita around, delivering more stabbing blows to the back. With the knife removed from her body, Rita collapsed on the glass table, shattering it on impact, cutting both of her arms. Her assailant stood there watching her slowly suffer, surrounded in a pool of her own blood.

The assailant wore an old hoodie and a handkerchief covering the nose and mouth, along with a cell phone in one hand and a covered in blood switchblade in the other. There was also a pungent, foul smelling odor Rita found sickening coming from her attacker as though the person had not bathed for some time or the clothes worn had not been washed.

"Hello, Rita," said the assailant. "Let's continue where we left off."

"T-take whatever you want," said Rita, hanging on for dear life. "Just leave me alone."

"I'm not robbing you, Rita," said the assailant. "You really think I came all this way to rob you?"

"What do you want?"

The assailant put away the phone, removed her hood and handkerchief, finally revealing herself to Rita. Turns out she was looking at a mirror image except the face she saw was much older and filthy. Some teeth were missing, cracked or stained in yellow, along with the horrific aroma of bad breath.

"W-who are you?" Rita asked.

"You," said the assailant. "Believe it or not I'm you ten years from now. I know it's hard to explain but in my future or rather our future, Hollywood stopped calling. You'll be homeless and living off the streets without anyone giving a shit. That's right, the great Rita Barnes was forgotten and that bitch Jill became a star. She made tons, opened up her own businesses, and got a star on the Hollywood walk of fame. You got nothing; not even an ounce of recognition."

Rita thought she was either dreaming or losing her mind. This couldn't possibly be real.

"No," she said, "it's not real. It's impossible. Jill can't act."

"Hollywood thought she had talent, including Max."

"What? No. He wouldn't."

"You fired Max. You told him he was incompetent and only in it for the money."

"No! I would never do that and you're not real."

"And yet here I am. You realize how tough it was scavenging for food and begging on the streets for change just to buy soup? I haven't been in a shower for so long I'd forgotten what water feels like and I lost weight from eating the same shit over and over again. Then something happened to me. I said I wished I'd met myself ten years ago and viola here I am. Stole myself a cell phone and gave you a call. Ten years and I still remember the old phone number. Ten fucking long years."

"W-what do you want?"

"I want you dead. I want to erase you from existence before it's too late."

"W-why?"

"Because we have no future. Our future is dead and I want no part of it."

"No, this can'r be happening. I can change my life. I'll hire a better agent."

"It's too late, Rita. No matter what you do things will be the same and I won't relive that. I need to do this before it's too late, so forgive me for what I'm about to do."

The assailant got down on her knees, pinning Rita's hands to the floor. With both hands she raised the knife, ready to make the killing blow.

"P-please," Rita begged, "don't do this."

"Shh," said the assailant, "trust me, I'm doing this for my own good."

With all her strength the assailant plunged the knife into Rita's chest. Over and over she stabbed her, drawing blood spatters all over the living room. Once done she put the switch blade away, listening to the soft breathing of her young self, waiting for that final breath on earth.

"It'll all be over soon," said the assailant. "Very soon."

Rita's phone buzzed, laying on the floor half covered in blood, glowing like a mini flashlight. Future Rita crawled towards it, discovering the caller was her old agent Max.

"Well, well," she said, "good old Max. I so missed him. I think I'll have a word with him."

She thought it would be fun to talk to him again after so many years. She touched the phone with her bloodied hand, putting it on speaker.

"Hello, Max," said future Rita.

"Rita, I've got some news for you."

"What, you're going to sell your house and leave the country?"

"Still making jokes even when you're mad."

"I have a knack for that."

"What's wrong with you? Are you all right?"

"What do you mean?"

"You sound different."

Meaning the sound of her voice was different from the last time she spoke to Max. Future Rita had to come up with a great performance to convince her old agent all was well.

"Different?" She said, clearing her throat. "I think my voice is getting hoarse from all that shouting."

"At who, that caller or me?"

"Both. What do you want?"

"I got some good news. You won't believe this when I tell you."

"You're right, I don't believe it."

"I'll just go out and say it. You...got the part."

"What?"

"You got the part."

"What part?"

"The part. The one Jill had. It's all yours, kiddo."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're going to be in that movie. Isn't that wonderful?"

"That's impossible."

"I know, right? It goes to show you that wishes do come true."

It was the role that would put Rita back on top; the greatest comeback of her career. Future Rita stood confused. How was this even possible when in the future she was forgotten and never heard of again? It made no sense.

"Wish?" She asked. "What wish?"

"I tell you," said Max, "you're going to love me forever after this."

"What wish?"

"I expect an apology in writing. Better yet, I want it posted on billboards everywhere."

"What wish?"

"No more television for you. Big screen here we come."

"What wish?"

"I've never been this excited since your debut. Those were fun times."

Max spoke up a storm that he couldn't answer one simple question, leaving future Rita impatient while trying to keep herself as calm as possible.

"Max!" She shouted. "What wish are you talking about?"

"The one you made earlier. Don't you remember?"

"Humor me."

"Over the phone you told me you wished Jill broke her leg. Well, I just got a call that she broke her leg skiing in the Alps. In other words she's out and you're in. What a lucky break; no pun intended."