Time

A Very Long and Sometimes Confusing Tale

                                                                                                

                “I swear, that girl can’t do anything without me - look at all this mail; Looks like she hasn’t checked it all week!” Joanne voiced playfully as she emptied the mailbox of its contents.

“She smokes too much dope, that’s why.” Chip, the middle aged accountant, added with less playfulness as he scratched his sun burnt forehead,

“Oh hush, my baby only smokes socially. Besides, she‘s only a teenager.” Joanne defended as she approached the front door,

“You baby her too much. She’s almost eighteen, Jo-Jo. All she does is hang out with her one friend and stays out all night doing god knows what. It’s time to crack down on her and make her grow up and face the real world.” Chip grunted as he dropped their luggage at the door, his scrawny arms found the weight to be too difficult to hold.

“You’d understand if you had kids of your own. Carole is different… She’s doesn’t need a job to preoccupy her right now, she’s busy keeping her grades up to get into a good college.” Joanne’s relentless optimism made Chip scoff.

“Yeah, she’s different allri-” Chip’s words were silenced when the door opened to reveal a house in shambles. The chaos surrounded them as they stepped into the house that looked like a hurricane had blown through. Joanne panic rose as she dropped the mail to the floor,

“Oh my god! CAROLE? CAROLE!” She ran around the house as she shouted her daughter’s name in desperation. Chip investigated silently listening for movements that didn’t belong to Joanne,

“CHIP!!! There’s blood all over the bathroom! Oh my god, Chip! CAROLE!!!” Fear induced tears streamed down her face and she ran up stairs to search further, “OH MY GOD! BLOOD!!! OH MY GOD!” Joanne acted as a broken record player.

Chip tried to keep his cool as he walked on the broken glass that was scattered throughout the downstairs, it wasn’t till he reached the dining room and saw the broken windows that led to the backyard that he spoke,

“CALL 911! CALL RIGHT NOW!” He shouted as he ran out the back door near the large table, Joanne ran down the stairs and looked out the windows Chip had and went into hysterics as she watched her daughter’s body swing softly with the wind that rocked her. “CALL 911 RIGHT NOW!!!” Chip shouted again as he tried to lower Carole’s body from the rope that held her in the sky, the strong Bur Oak’s limb that held her faced a soft mound of dirt. Half a hand peaked out from the soft dirt; ants crawled freely around the visible fingers of the hand and collected food to bring back to their den for a feast. Vomit exited his mouth as he gave up trying to lower the rotting body from the tree, he panted in an attempt to recover in vain.

“My baby! My baby” was heard from inside where Joanne continued to thrash and cry with violence.

“Oh my god…” Chip muttered under his breath as he noticed yellowed pages resting in the pocket of the black dress Carole wore. With shaking hands he took the papers from her pocket and read carefully…

 

 

 

                                 June 10^th, 1975

 

 

 

 

                The walls shudder with eerie woe with every slam of air that runs across the sky and knocks eagerly on the side of my small home. Summers never acted with such blind fury as it has since that horrid night a few days prior. What that night holds in significance to the angry weather and the malevolence that consumed my homes being is a dreadful act that was no more premeditated as it was expected. A simple night it was, whispers didn't travel up the stairs, moans didn't follow my ears, glass didn’t shatter, tear induced fear didn’t linger, life decisions weren‘t at hand, anger didn‘t consume my mind. Mom left that morning with her boyfriend Chip for a weeklong vacation in sunny Florida - leaving me in gloomy Minnesota with a twenty for food and her bag of dope. My best friend Janis and I spoke thrilled words of parties and freedom. That night we decided to start the celebration by breaking the twenty for a bit of Windowpane.

                We giggled with glee as Three Dog Night’s ‘I’ll be Creeping’ poured out of the radio and traveled into the dim lit living room where we sat, enjoying the paintings on the walls that guided our eyes with every stoke. Janis was the wild child that mixed well with my hippie undertones. Since our introduction to each other six years ago when we were but a mere eleven years young we had decided to be inseparable. She was the coke to my dope; I was the smack to her LSD. Her peak crashed her eyes. Her giggles turned into light manic pants. She spoke of the man with white eyes that sat across from us, I saw no such man, instead I saw a smile on the face of the piece of furniture the man presumably resided on. She asked for his name, why he was there and finally if he intended violence on her being. I never heard his responses - Led Zeppelin’s ‘Whole Lotta Love’ spoke to me instead. I felt myself drifting joyously above my panicked friend, I spoke casually and I suggested she should chill. With fright-laced words, she requested I stand in the kitchen with her and smoke some dope; being a good friend, I agreed.

                The floral tiles on the walls melted into the burnt orange shade of the paint that surrounded us, I joked how the room seemed more appealing as I took a drag from the passing joint. Janis appeared distant as she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath I could see vacuum into her distorted, fuzzy mouth. Waves of green air leaked out of her nostrils as she opened her eyes and held out her hand waiting for me to place the joint between her fingers. My attention fickled as I looked down at the simple white tiles beneath my feet that appeared to be glowing from the bright Florissant lights above. Janis interrupted my mind with her yelps and tears,

“He’s in here! He’s trying to f*****g kill me! He’s trying to f*****g kill me!” She kept repeating as she backed up behind me and covered her face with her long dirty blonde hair to shield her mind. I spoke like a broken record that she’s fine and needs to chill out. My words had no effect as she grabbed a large carving knife from the sink and charged at noting and lashed the blade violently through the air with tightly closed eyes and battle shrieks. I wanted to help her… I wanted peace. I approached her and attempted to shake her aware when she caught my left forearm with the shining dagger of rage. I didn’t feel pain, just a numbed release. I yelled at her for her attention in vain. I knew I had to unhinge her grasp on the knife. We fought with both our hands on the black plastic covered handle as Jefferson Airplane’s ‘White Rabbit’ echoed around us. With one last jerk I was the victor.

                Janis fell to her knees as I threw the knife into the sink while cursing. My hands were wet with the blood that flowed from my wound. As I turned to Janis I noticed the white tiles were covered with puddles of crimson. I commented on how much blood I must have lost as Janis sat hunched over on the ground. When she didn’t respond I nudged her. She instantly fell to her side, her neck had been slashed side-to-side, blood still oozed from the wound onto her once off-yellow shirt. I suppressed the urge to laugh - I was convinced I was just having a contagiously bad trip. I put my arm in the sink and let the water take my reality down the drain. Waves of nausea flowed out as I looked at the semi deep cut that was visible as the water smacked it. I spoke to Janis in a shaken voice, I jested how I could tell people I was in a knife fight. I wrapped my arm tightly with a large hand towel. When I looked back down to Janis she was staring at me from the floor with black orbs for eyes. Her skin was pale, her lips blue. The blood took over the tiles, I was sure if I didn’t clean it then the liquid would seep down into the cracks, making it impossible to clean before my mom got home. I told Janis I’d be back in a moment as I ran to the linen closet and grabbed a stack of towels. When I returned I refused to look at Janis and play her game so I dropped the towels on the ground over a puddle and fell to my knees and began pushing the stack over the red areas. No matter how hard I scrubbed the dry towels on the floor they refused to clean the blood. Red streaks surrounded me as I began to cry and continue the hard scrubbing motion. I told Janis to help but she didn’t move. I told her to stop being a drama queen but she didn’t say anything. I could have been on the floor staining my skin, clothes and towels for hours, days, years; I had no idea. I was crashing back to earth - fast. I kicked Janis as I yelled at her to stop the game. When my mind clicked that my best friend in the entire world was dead and I was her murderer I went into wild hysterics. I tried to lift myself from the ground but my blood covered feet and pants made me fall back down. I crawled further into the kitchen and pulled myself up using the fridge handle. The phone met my hand as I held a finger above the ‘9’, ready to dial. I thought of what I’d say to the police. I didn’t want to lie - But I knew I couldn’t tell the truth. I didn’t want to go to jail. I didn’t want to look at her stiff body on my kitchen floor anymore. I tried to think, I couldn’t. I put the phone back on the receiver and looked back down to Janis who was amongst the once white towels. I had to act fast.

                I ran out to the garage and grabbed the first item I saw, a snow shovel - I didn’t think. I went off instinct, ran out back, and began to dig a hole with only the company of my rapidly pounding heart. It took nearly two hours to dig a shallow grave - I grew weaker by the minute from my blood loss. When I went back inside Janis was in the same place, her skin was now light blue. She seemed heavier than her 120 pound self as I held her arms and pulled her outside. My neighbors on both sides were relatively far so even if they saw me outside they wouldn’t know what I was doing. With a firm push she rolled into the hole but was too long - Her head would stick out. Vomit sat on the tip of my tongue as I held the snow shovel up high and smashed it down firmly on her neck - decapitating her. I didn’t think she had any blood left to leak but I was proven wrong. With a slight readjustment by placing her head by her legs I pushed the dirt in around her until she was no longer visible, the sight of the fresh soil made the tears in my eyes drop heavily once more. Janis - The only word and face in my mind. I wiped the blood off the snow shovel with my shirt before placing it back into the garage, when I came back inside I looked down at the red floor. With a few bowls of water splashed on the ground I was able to remove most of the blood on the tile. A garbage bag was filled with red towels that were placed by the washing machine for a morning load. 5:37AM read the clock located in the bathroom. So tired. So very tired. I lit a joint as I filled my bathtub with warm water. I didn’t bother taking my clothes off. I just laid in the murky pink water with a joint in hand. ‘Waiting For The Sun’ by The Doors played in the distance. I killed my best friend. I buried her. I cleaned the tracks. I’m going to hell. I, I, I, Me.

 

                After a six hour nap in the filthy water in the bathtub I was awaken by the alerted rings of the telephone. I crawled out of the tub and shed my soaked clothes off and covered myself with a robe, my muscles ached with every motion. I grabbed the phone in the living room and spoke with groggy words - It was my mother.

“Carole, did you just wake up?” She spoke with a hint of disappointment,

“I had a long night… How’s Florida?” I attempted to sound casual but I could feel my voice shake.

“It’s beautiful here! Chip and I are about to go down to the beach. The hotel he got us is facing the sea; I never knew sun rise over the ocean was so mystical!”

“Well… try to take some pictures for me, alright?” She paused for a moment - making my heart throb with panic,

“Carole, are you alright? You sound… scared, is Janis with you?” I felt the knot of pain in the back of my throat when my mother spoke of Janis - it took all my might to push the correct words out,

“No…no, she… left last night. We had a fight so she called some guy to come get here.”

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. I’m sure she’ll call you later today and you two will talk it over.” I scoffed at her comment,

“Something tells me she won’t be calling me tonight, mom… Well, I have to go I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

“Sure thing sweetie, I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.” The words cracked as they escaped my mouth. I hung up and swallowed harshly in an attempt to make the knot in my throat go down - it didn’t help.

                A large portion of that day was spent bleaching the towels repeatedly with the result always being the same and turning friends down with offers of partying. You never realize how many friends you have till you murder one and curl into seclusion. I didn’t eat that day, partially because I had no desire to feel satisfied but also because I couldn’t bring myself to be in the kitchen for longer than a moment to grab a cleaning product. The night before repeated in my mind. I thought of what could have been different, how I could have changed the outcome - what I could have done and said to the police if I had called them. The reality constantly throbbed through my veins. I’d cry for long periods of time and I’d feel numb for an even longer amount of time.

                It wasn’t until the sun went down that I began to medicate myself with an excessive amount of dope. I sat in my bedroom for the majority of the time smoking in silence, joint after joint after joint. It was near midnight when distantly I heard Janis Joplin’s ‘Down On Me’ playing - Janis’s favorite song. I felt the tears welt in my eyes again, this time from fear instead of misery and self loathing. I didn’t want to investigate but something within urged me to follow the music. With slow cautious steps I made my way down the stairs and listened intently for the source. I reached the living room and saw the Greatest Hits vinyl spinning on the record player - I knew I didn’t put it on but I tried to convince myself I had earlier that day but had forgotten. I turned it off slowly and let the silence of the house eat the sound waves that surrounded me as I put the vinyl away. I took my time to scan my surroundings, my eyes darted to the seats Janis and I sat on the night before and the seat the man with white eyes sat. I began to remember the little details of our motions - the sound of Janis’s infectious laughter. I sighed loudly trying to exhale all the bad energy that was engulfing me - Carole King’s ‘You’ve Got A Friend’ began to play up stairs - my favorite song. My heart pumped loudly with panic, I wanted to vomit from the fear that was thrashing within me. Janis. The only name and face that came to mind. I took no caution this time as I ran up the stairs and into my room to see Tapestry on my record player. I could feel the tears meeting at the tip of my nose waiting to fall to the floor. I unplugged the record player and with haste pulled the record off and threw it across the room. The hair on the back of my neck stood as a cold chill went down my spine - I didn’t feel like I was alone,

“Please…” I shook the word out as I sniffed for air, “Please… leave me alone… please… I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” I half expected to hear her voice respond to my plea but instead the response was the intro to Pink Floyd’s ‘Time’ coming from the living room. Dozens of clocks ticking-tocking, buzzing, ringing at full blast picking away at the ounce of sanity I was trying so desperately to hold close; I couldn’t handle my shakes - I couldn’t handle the reality. I felt like my mind was being torn away from me piece by piece. Was I going insane? I ran into the bathroom connected to my bedroom. I felt safe in the small room with the leaky faucet.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!” I chanted out as I rocked back and forth on the toilet seat and kept my hands firmly pressed against my ears to mute the world. I questioned my reality with every sway backwards. Was I insane? Was I too stoned to remember putting music on? Was I being tortured by my deceased friend? Was she mad at me for not turning myself in? Questions. I had so many unanswered questions I knew I couldn’t ask anyone but myself.  I wanted to get out of the house, but I knew I couldn’t leave without blabbing my guilt to release me from the fear I was engulfed by. I kept hearing a buzzing noise. BBUZZZZ BBBUZZZZZ. It took me a moment through my jilting panic and sobbing to associate the buzz with my door bell being rung. The music was still playing. I didn’t care who was at my door - whoever it was could protect me from my own mind. I ran out of my bathroom, jumped half way down the stairs and opened the door - I was covered in sweat and tears but I didn’t care. Jonathan, one of my lesser friends stood opposite of me with a twelve pack of beer and a smile that turned into a concerned glare as I leapt out the door and hugged him tightly,

“Jesus, Carole - What’s wrong?” He asked as he tried to pry my tight grip around his chest off, I couldn’t respond; I only wept louder. He walked inside with me still attached and placed his beer on the side table by the door as he told me everything was alright - I repeated the words in my mind. Everything will be alright, everything IS alright - I wanted to continue to chant these words in my mind till I felt them to be true.

               

                I sat on the floor of my room next to Jonathan with a beer in hand; his presence gave me a feeling of false security. When he asked me why I was crying earlier I chose to tell him I didn’t want to talk about it; When he asked me where Janis was I told him the same two second story I had told my mother earlier. I knew the reason he had came unexpectedly that night was in hopes of getting lucky with Janis or I. Truth is if Janis was still alive his wishes more than likely would have come true. I didn’t talk much - I just listened to his superficial stories as I drank his beer and smoked his dope. 

“Give me a cigarette.” I plainly stated as he lit himself one,

“I thought you didn’t smoke.” He replied as he placed one in my hand.

“I don’t.” I spoke once more as I lit it and took a large hit - exhaling the smoke was therapeutic. I glanced at the clock to see it was nearly three, I felt exhausted.

“It’s getting late. I should probably hit the road.” He said as he began to sit up, I grabbed his leg firmly,

“Don’t. Please… Stay with me tonight.” I could see a grin form on his face, “Not like that.”

“Then what do you mean?” He asked as he held his arm out to help me to my feet,

“I just… don’t want to be alone tonight is all, I feel safe with you around.” I stood without his help and turned my clock radio on low,

“Does this have anything to do with earlier?” He questioned as he scratched his curly hair was seemed like it had gone unwashed for weeks.

“Just stay, please.” I didn’t want to answer his question.

“Alright, want me to sleep on the couch in the living room, then?”

“No…Sleep in here. I’ll sleep on the floor if you want.”

“We can share the bed if that’s cool with you, I won’t try anything.” He spoke as he took his shoes off and lay by the wall of the twin bed. I put my cigarette out and turned the light off as I squeezed onto the bed, I felt awkward as Jonathan put his arms around me - I felt more safe when he wasn’t touching me but I didn’t fight about it - I was just happy that I wasn’t sleeping in the bathtub like the night before.

 

                That night I had a dream that was as insightful as it was terrifying. The dream began with Janis and I when we were younger. I sat on the floor of her messy bedroom as she sat on her bed across from me. We were talking about the future and how we aspired to one day be famous musicians. I was supposed to learn how to play the guitar while Janis sang. She told me she’d be the female Jim Morrison and I’d be Jimi Hendrix. As she continued to speak to me her eyes began to darken till only black orbs were looking through me, blood slowly poured down her chest as a neck wound formed till she was sliced across. My hands felt wet, I looked at them to be greeted with a thick layer of blood coated from my forearms down. She didn’t blink - the black orbs just continued to chill my soul,

“I’m sorry.” I whispered out as I tried to look away from her,

“Lies.” her voice sounded like the wind weaving through trees.

“It was an accident, I swear. I’m sorry.”

“Confess.”

“I can’t… please… I’m sorry.”

“Murderer.”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” I shouted out as I held my head up with my blood covered hands.

“Lies.” I looked back into her black orb eyes as she spoke and saw the incident being played once more but instead of Janis being the knife wielding manic it was I. I jumped at Janis with the knife in my hand; I was shouting muted words at her as she fought me for the blade. She had successfully cut my arm with the knife in an attempt to make me let go but instead I came at her with more force till I slit her throat with a swift motion.

“That’s not what happened!” I defended,

“Confess.”

“It didn’t happen like that!” I forced myself to wake up; I couldn’t inhale enough air to calm me. When I opened my eyes the black orbs invaded my comfort, looking deeply within my guilty soul from the glare that was only an inch away from my pallid, sweat riddled face. I felt every hair on my body stand as I looked my best friend in the eyes in the closest place to reality I was in. I wanted to scream, cry, run. I couldn’t do anything but hold the stare - never blinking. We held the glare for what seemed like an hour till Jonathan readjusted himself making her vanish into the nothingness. I looked around at my dim surroundings trying to convince myself insanity was consuming my mind - everything was in my head. The radio was no longer on like it had been earlier, the only noise was my heart beating to the rhythm of my alarm clock - Tick-Tock-Thump-Thump - The normalcy of my palpitations soothed me back into a false security that Jonathan no longer radiated. My eye lids felt heavy as they flickered slightly with every Tock, the tunnel of darkness lowered me to the bottom level of dreamless sleep - never had a deep sleep been so fulfilling.

 

                My shivering body and clattering teeth served as my alarm clock. Through squinted eyes I looked at my clock that revealed the time of 10AM. I let the waves of calm soak my being before realizing I lay alone on the small bed. Where was Jonathan? My mind darted between paranoia and fear - did he uncover my secret? Was he in danger? I hopped to my feet and dashed down the stairs, no sign of Jonathan. I tried to think logically when I opened my front door and saw his car still parked in my drive way, for all I knew he could have been in the bathroom. I chose not to take any chances of the possibility of him finding out my dreadful secret as I ran to the back room windows that faced Janis’s shallow grave; It seemed untouched which let me sigh in relief,

“Jonathan? Are you here?” I shouted into the silence - no response.

“Jonathan!” I shouted with more aggression - nothing.

“JONATHAN!” I screamed making my throat close up - deafening silence. I didn’t know what I should have been more terrified by - the thought of Jonathan finding out about Janis’s demise or the possibility that she harmed him for being a friend to a murderer. It’s all in my head, I thought repeatedly; everything will be alright. My breathing became erratic - my body shook violently making me want to vomit the bile that resided within my stomach. Everything will be okay. The phrase I voiced as my legs gave out on me making my body slam to the floor, everything will be okay…

“Carole?” a concerned voice spoke from the front door, “Carole, what’s wrong?” It spoke again. I saw the outline of a person standing at my door through my tear filled eyes,

“Is that you, Jon?” My voice cracked, the floor vibrated with his approaching footsteps.

“It’s me, it’s alright. Everything will be alright.” I felt no security,

“Where did you go?” I spoke softly as Jonathan held a hand out to help me to my feet,

“I went for a walk. I had a horrible nightmare about Janis - Chilled me to the bone, I had to get some fresh air to clear my mind.” My heart stopped beating when he spoke of her, “She was covered in blood and dirt and she was holding her head in her hands... She kept saying she was cold… It seemed so real - I can’t even describe how creepy it all was… I think she may be in trouble. Do you know the name of the guy she left with?”

“…I don’t remember the name she said; I think it may have been ‘Dave’ or something. She’s fine - I’m sure of it. She does these kinds of things all the time.” I was quick with my lie.

“Did she say where she was going? When she’d be back? Maybe we should call her parents just in case.” I didn’t want to talk about Janis anymore - I didn’t want to think about her anymore.

“Are you hungry?” I changed the subject as I wiped the snot on my face away.

“What exactly was the fight you had with her about?” He spoke with curiosity,

“I don’t want to talk about it - would you want to talk about a fight with your best friend with other people? Those things are personal. Please, drop it… So how do you like your eggs?” I held my head high and pretended nothing was wrong,

“Scrambled, I guess.” He plainly stated, obviously unsatisfied with my response.

“Go watch some TV while I cook, I’ll tell you when it’s done.” He did as I told him without digging deeper into my guilt. I hadn’t eaten for nearly two days - I had no desire to be in the kitchen where I’d be reminded of my shame but as long as Jonathan was to stay I knew I’d need to try to appear more normal than I had been. I grabbed a pan and set my cooking station up with ease, it wasn’t till I opened my fridge that my panic soared up to the heavens. Black orbs that blinked frantically met my gaze. Blue skin, muddy hair and dried blood. Janis’s lips never moved as her head sat peacefully on the shelf of my fridge, she only blinked. I jumped back - I couldn’t breathe as I continued to stare into those horrible black eyes that showed no reflection,

“Tell him” her voice hissed in my mind - her lips never moved. “Tell him, Carole. Tell him.” the words echoed in my mind. I suppressed the urge to scream till my blood curdled - I slammed the door shut but her voice remained in my mind, ‘Tell. Tell. Tell. Tell.’ it chanted. NO NO NO NO NO NO! I continued to think to block her voice, I needed out of the house - I needed to get far away,

“You can’t leave till you tell…Tell.” her voice remained dominant. I couldn’t handle my shaking hands.

“We’re going out for breakfast!” I shouted as I stomped to the front door and placed shoes on my feet. I wasn’t going to allow my fear to control me - I wasn’t going to listen to my dead friends bargain. Jonathan spoke but I couldn’t hear anything he said - Janis’s voice followed me all the way outside, telling me not to leave. Once I sat in the car it disappeared - I felt free.

 

                Anger. Annoyance. Loathing. I sat in silence with Jonathan in our little booth in the crammed, small eatery. We had only been there for ten minutes and I was already on my 4^th cup of coffee. Saying I looked haggard sitting there with my hair knotted into one mangy rat nest, my greasy skin, tear and snot stained clothing and eyes that drooped down to my chin was an understatement. Jonathan attempted to make small talk but I was too irritated with my existence to acknowledge his words, instead I picked at the skin around the wound on my arm- I felt nothing as I’d pick deeper and deeper.

“What’s going on, Carole? Yesterday you were freaking out and now you’re cold as ice. What the hell happened between you and Janis?” His words seemed so distant - like we were on opposite sides of a tunnel trying to communicate.

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.” I growled out through gritted teeth,

“I don’t want to pry but something is seriously wrong - I want to know what it is. What the hell happened between you and Janis?” I wanted to scream in his face, I wanted to shout the truth for every dunce in the filthy shack of an eatery could hear and gasp in their stupid judging tones.

“You want to know what happened?” I spoke slowly while staring deeply within his eyes. He nodded and leaned closer as if I were going to tell him a big secret,

“We got in a fight because she’s pregnant with some retards baby so she skipped town with him. There, you satisfied?” I broke the eye contact and went back to picking at my skin - I could see Jonathan lean back and sigh in amazement,

“Does anyone else know?” He whispered, as if the people that surrounded us knew what we were talking about,

“No.”

“Is the guy anyone I know?”

“No; she met him at a bar a few months back, they’ve been seeing each other nonexclusively since. He’s a Hell‘s Angels wanna-be biker.” I felt proud of my lie. I knew no one would look deep into the subject once Jonathan leaked it to all the fools I associated with. Thankfully our food arrived at that moment so I could eat and figure out the extra details to the best cover up imaginable. Scrambled eggs, Bacon and Hot Cakes - a feast for queens. I grabbed for the Ketchup bottle to drench my eggs in the delicious red goop, I shook the glass bottle a few times but only the watery excess juice oozed out just to irritate me that much more. With firm hands I held the bottle and smacked it above my plate - blood splattered all over my untouched food and dowsed my pink shirt. I felt disgusted; I could have vomited the nothingness that filled me. I stormed to the bathroom before Jonathan could say anything. The bathroom smelt heavily of cleaning products, my eyes began to water the moment I stepped foot in. I looked at the four stall rooms to ensure my privacy which luckily was granted. I soaked a few rags and vigorously scrubbed my shirt - I was sick of blood stained clothing.

“Go home. Now.” A voice sternly spoke, I looked into the mirror and saw Janis standing behind me, and she held her head on with her left hand. I felt frightened but I didn’t allow it to show. I looked behind myself but didn’t see her standing there; when I looked back at the mirror she stood in the same place,

“Piss off.” I growled as I avoided her black eyes.

“Go home. Now.” She repeated with more fury,

“You can’t tell me what to do.” I stated plainly, still scrubbing my shirt with the brown paper that was beginning to crumble and leave a grave of fallen brown paperlings on my ruined piece of cloth.

“Go home. Alone.” Every hair on my body stood on edge, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of getting the better of me.

“I can go where I want when I want. You aren’t the boss of me, Janis. I said I was sorry a hundred times over - you refuse to accept my apology so f**k you and f**k your stupid threats.” I looked at her through glaring eyes as I defended myself, she willingly returned the glare. My heart burned in fear as all the stall doors frantically began to slam open and shut. BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM! My ears throbbed from the noise that continued to repeat itself. She wasn’t happy with me - the feeling was mutual.

“Go home. Alone. Don’t leave the house or speak to others till you confess. Confess what you did to me. Best Friends Forever, Carole.” My legs gave out on me, my hands shook with fiery as I attempted to cover my face, and fire pulsated within my veins.

“Stop it, Janis. Stop It. Stop It. Stop It. STOP IT!” I could hear my mind crack with my voice,

“Best Friends Forever, Carole.”

‘Best friends don’t do this to each other. Best friends don’t kill each other. Best friends don’t torment each other.’ I thought as I rocked back and forth on the bathroom floor, the stalls doors still slamming, the air still tasted of cleaning products. I felt my arm burn where I had been picking the skin - someone was touching my arm.

“STOP IT!” I screamed with every bit of air I had in my lungs, I felt pressure on my legs like someone was trying to drag me up to my feet,

“IneedtogohomeIneedtogohomeIneedtogohome- I need to go home -” I pushed the words out, my eyes were still closed firmly, I didn’t care who was holding me up, I didn’t care who I was talking to, I just wanted to get home and hide. My face felt cold, wet when I finally opened my eyes to see Jonathan standing in front of me with a wet brown paper he was vigorously patting my face with. My body felt fuzzy, my head heavy. I could feel myself slip into a dark abyss as I lost consciousness.

 

                I awoke to the thick smell of smoke and the calming sound of Cat Stevens ‘Into White’. I turned in my bed to see the alarm clock that read ‘6:28 PM’ and Jonathan sitting on the floor with a cigarette in hand watching me.

“What happened?” I asked groggily,

“I was going to ask the same thing.” He replied, he had obviously been watching over me since the diner incident earlier that day. I felt bad that he had been so concerned but I felt worse that I had no need for him.

“Are you okay? I wanted to bring you to the hospital but I wasn’t sure if you would have wanted me to.”

“I’m fine now - Just had a bad trip is all. Think I’ll be laying off the Scare for awhile.” I knew he’d believe me; everyone is entitled to a bad trip, after all.

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine. I should probably be hittin’ the road… Unless you want me to stay longer?”

“Well, want to smoke before you check out?”

“You sure you should be smoking?” His concern was beginning to irritate me,

“I’m cool for it.” I spoke casually as I sat up and grabbed a joint that sat near my alarm clock. Jonathan joined me on the bed as I lit it and took a large hit,

“You know, your pad is really creepy.” He said as he took a hit,

“How so?” I knew; I just wanted to know what information I could get out of him by playing dumb.

“Well, Lights flicker a lot and I could have sworn I heard people whispering- sounded like a girl and man. But every time I’d go check it out no one was where I heard the light talking. I got to admit, I got pretty spooked a few times while you were sleeping.”

“Well,” I paused to exhale, “S**t happens I suppose. I’ve never had any problems with the house.” My blatant lies continued to pile up.

“Can I tell you something without making you angry?” He asked as he leaned back getting more comfortable,

“Go for it - I’m too tired to get angry.”

“Well, I’ve known you and Janis for a couple of years… Through all these years I never really talked to you, Janis was always the dominant one so whenever we’d hang out I’d notice you just standing behind her playing the side-kick. Only person you’d really talk to was her. It always kind of bugged me, you know. For the longest time I just figured you were stuck up but after this time alone I’ve changed my mind about that. I think you are a really complex chick - and maybe her leaving has made a few screws go loose in your mind since you are so used to hiding in her shadow. I always respected Janis because she was so willing to speak her mind no matter the consequence but after you told me about her leaving it seems like she isn’t anything like I thought. You don’t need her, she is in the complete wrong for leaving you behind - Plus if she didn’t leave then I would have never seen this part of you. I really like you, Carole… Even if you’re a bit crazy.” I felt flattered and ashamed. He was right about me hiding behind Janis all these years; her shadow brought comfort. I wished my lies were true, I wished Janis ran off with some bloated biker because she was knocked up, I wished I was only going insane from the withdrawal of my best friend, I wished I had nothing to hide.

“Thank you.” I couldn’t think of anything better to respond with. The air was tense as the moments of our silence rolled; Tears began to form in my eyes as I forced words to escape my mouth once more, “Tell me everything will be alright.” I requested as I put my head on his shoulder,

“Everything will be alright. Everything will be alright.” He spoke coolly as he placed his arms around me and cradled me.

“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I’m a horrible person… I’m such a horrible person.” I felt like I was being watched - I knew Janis was unseen in the room with us - waiting for me to confess. I wanted to. I knew if I did we’d both be free, Janis could move forward and I could pick up the shattered pieces of my soul, mind, and heart.

“You’re not a horrible person. Everything will be alright.” His words soothed me, for a moment I felt like he was speaking the truth. I heard the noise of music being played downstairs - Another message from Janis. Jonathan let his grasp of me go as he stood up and extended an arm to help me to my feet.

“Let's go investigate.” He spoke with curious fear; I only followed behind as we walked down to the living room where ‘Don’t Let Me Down’ by The Beatles was pumping out of the record player. I could see the fear on Jonathans face as he looked at the vinyl spin slowly. The voices that resided in my head fought with each other. I wanted to tell him. I didn’t want to tell him. If something so simple spooked him I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the truth, He’d panic, shout, run, and call the cops. It always came back to jail. I didn’t want to go to jail and rot there for the rest of my life - even if I was to tell anyone I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out of the punishment. Maybe if I had called that night after it happened the consequence wouldn’t have been as bad as it would be now.

“Turn it off.” I sighed out as I leaned on a wall. He did as I requested with no words, “I think you need to leave now.”

“What’s going on? Is someone else here?” He looked around as he spoke,

“You could say that. You should really leave now, Jonathan.”

“What do you mean ‘You could say that.’? Either someone is here with us or not, someone had to of put that record on - that song is in the middle of the f*****g vinyl.  Something is going on that you aren’t telling me… I’m your friend, tell me what’s happening.” The concern of his voice began to irritate me again, I knew he was afraid for him and I but as long as I pushed him away he wouldn’t be in any harm.

“You’re my friend and I’m grateful that you’re concerned for my being but right now I need some personal space to deal with things. So please, leave. I promise I’ll be alright.” The words flowed out with no hint of emotion - I felt like a machine.

“Are you sure you don’t need me here?” He backed away slowly towards the front door,

“Positive. I’ll talk to you later.” I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye pacing in the kitchen as I spoke, I knew to keep my cool as I waved goodbye to Jonathan as he exited my personal hell.

“Tell-Tell-Tell.” I heard a voice hiss slowly. When I darted my eyes to the kitchen the shadow was gone - I figured it would be. I wanted to speak to Janis face to face. I wanted to explain myself.

“Tell-Tell-Tell.” The voice repeated as I walked into the dining room that shared a wall with her grave and looked into the mirror that hung across from the table,

“Talk to me, Janis. Talk.” I spoke with all the confidence I could as I looked intently at my reflection and saw Janis approach from behind me - she looked the same as she had in the bathroom earlier that day, we both knew she was gaining more power by the minute. I looked behind me like I had hours before to be greeted by nothing. She was only in the mirror - standing next to my reflection.

“Talk to me. Tell me when this will end.” My words were slow, my mind floated from the dope.

“Confess and it’ll end. Confess and free us.” Her ability to speak was strengthening.

“Why do I have to confess? Why? I’m sorry for what I did. I truly am… But I don’t want to be sent away to rot in a jail for the rest of life. Please, can’t we just live in peace?”

“No peace till it’s over. No peace till we are set free.”

“Isn’t there another way? I don’t want to be sent away - Please, tell me what else I could do.” I saw a smile form on her face,

“Confess,” She paused as she looked at me and reached her arm out - making it escape the mirror’s boundary and come outwards where her hand gently cupped my chin. Her touch was cold, sending chills throughout my body and making my heart rapidly thump in terror that her decaying hand was actually touching me - “Or join me.”

“No!” I shouted as I jumped half a foot back. Her hand was still outside the mirror hanging limply without my face as its resting place. With a mocking grin she slowly pulled her arm back into the mirror and placed it to her side.

“Two choices. Confess or join me. Best Friends Forever, Carole… Choose wisely.” She walked away from the reflection leaving me all alone to look at the monster I became, I felt ugly. My mental being was deteriorating as hastily as my physical. Two choices. The ending result would be the same regardless. I was going to Hell in one form or another. After examining myself for a few more moments I felt sleep would be the best temporary choice. It took me a few minutes to walk up the stairs and into my bedroom - a typical procedure that would normally only take half a minute - As I weakened Janis strengthened. CCR’s ‘Have You Ever Seen The Rain’ lulled out of my stereo as I dropped my weight onto my bed and let rest take me once more.

 

“Carole, it’s time to wake up. Someone is waiting for you.” A whisper echoed in my room. I was surprised to see that it was nearly 4AM. I was even more surprised that I felt no better than I had when I had fallen into my deep sleep.

“Wake up, Carole. Wake up.” The voice was sweet and wispy, it was the same tone Janis would wake me up in every morning.

“Who’s here?” I yawned out - not feeling concerned I was talking to a spirit.

“Him.” I wanted to question who ‘He’ was but I was in too much pain from standing up. With slow precise steps I made my way downstairs and saw a man wearing a gray tweed suit and deep gray bowler hat sitting in the living room, He’s attention wasn’t taken away from the newspaper we was reading till I addressed him,

“Who the hell are you?” I spoke defensively as I stood half way down the stairs. When he lifted his head the slight grin he had turned into a look of amazement - the same look I had when I looked at the pure white eyes that looked back at me, his face was long and slim just like the rest of him.

“Wow, you look like s**t.” His voice was thick with a British accent.

“Are you f*****g kidding me? Please tell me I’m still tripping.”

“Afraid not, love.” He stood from his seat and approached the stairs, “We have much to talk about, dear.”

“Why are you here? Am I going to die?”

“Now why would you think that? Sure, I’m here on business but its pleasure as well I seek.” I felt cornered,

“I thought you were just an illusion that Janis saw. It’s your fault she’s dead; and what the f**k are you talking about ‘Pleasure’? Why am I even talking to you - you aren’t real!” He frowned slightly as he extended a hand; I refused to place my hand onto his.

“The fact that she was tit deep in a trip is purely coincidental to the visit I made to her. Let me formally introduce myself,” He took his hand back and picked his hat off - his receding hair-line made me guess his physical appearance age was early late 30s to early 40s, “My name is Mirg Repaer, But everyone calls me Mr. R. As for pleasure it is all in meeting you, my dear. Also - let me assure you I am indeed real as the sun is bright.” I refused to be swayed by his charming voice.

“If you aren’t here to kill me then why are you still here - I can only assume you are death after-all.” I attempted to hold my head high to show I had no fear - my neck was too weak to let me give that impression,

“Smart lass you are. Yes, I’m ‘death’ as you so blatantly put it. But as I said prior to your rude comments claiming I’m fictional and a murderer - which I am not, I merely take souls as they pass from the physical body and bring them where they are suited; You, love, are the murderer.” He paused again and thought, “Where was I going with this? Oh yes! I’m not here for your soul, not yet at least. The pleasure is held in the fact that very rarely am I given the privilege to speak without the reap involved. Your friend has been so kind as to give you two choices I’m sure you remember quite vividly. I’m here in case you choose the second option.”

“What the f**k are you talking about?” I couldn’t understand what the man was speaking,

“The beheaded lass. She and I made an agreement, you see. She is quite kind hearted, she is. A soul is unable to move forward till they are given closure - whatever it may be. Thankfully it is in my job title to bring such closure to my pets. For she closure comes in two forms, your confession and ultimate punishment or your demise. She insists that my assistance will make you lean more towards her choice but if I may be frank - I believe that my option is far more suitable for your liking.” He put his hat back on as I walked past him and stood near the kitchen entrance where Janis was slain by my own hand.

“Well, Mr. …?”

“Mr. R.” He smiled as he spoke his name and followed me into the kitchen with his hands held neatly behind his back.

“Well, Mr. R., What if I was to say I choose neither and I instead put all this in the back of my life and move forward onto better and less insane days?” Mr. R scoffed at my question,

“It’s quite impossible, love. Regardless of what you wish to believe you are on a time schedule. As a gentleman that I am I will not speak further of the consequence’s that come with not choosing. Also, because I am such a generous person I shall wait with you till you decide.” He smiled at me once more, “I love my job.”

“I’m being timed? What kind of s**t is that?” I sighed loudly as I massaged my temples, “Do I at least get to know how long I have to choose?”

“Certainly, love! You have,” He pulled a pocket watch that had a transparent cover out from his left pocket and examined the analog, he looked upward and mouthed words as if he was counting, “23 hours - and 43 minutes -- and 20 second, oh, 11 seconds now.”

“You got all that from looking at a clock?”

“Give or take a few minutes. My math is not so sharp as it once was; indeed age has been catching up on me.” I wanted to be rid of Mr. R.

“So, I’m stuck with you for the next 23 hours?”

“23 hours, 42 minutes and 39 - 34 seconds, yes.”

“What are we supposed to do now?” I folded my arms as I spoke to give him the sign I had no interest in his company,

“Well, I am going to make some tea… and you should go take a shower because - pardon my bluntness - you look like death.”

“I find that to be extremely offensive.” I wasn’t going to hold my emotions back from death.

“As do I, love.”

 

                My spirits were raised after I took a long shower to wash away the filth that was layered on me, I even got the dried blood that was crusted on my arm from the cut I had acquired during the knife fight - I was sure it was infected but I had bigger problems to worry about.

“You’re making this difficult.” The voice came from the mirror that was in front of me, with a swift hand motion I wiped the steamed mirror to see Janis standing by me once more,

“It’s a difficult decision.” I plainly stated as I began to towel dry my hair with an off white towel - feeling annoyed that I wasn’t able to get the blood out of it fully, mom wouldn’t be happy to see her brand new towels when she got home.

“It’s truly not. Please, Carole, just confess.” Janis sounded more and more like she had prior to all this,

“Are you saying if you had to choose between spending the rest of your life in a living hell then being sent to a legit hell or just going straight to hell is an easy decision?”

“Yes, it is. I’d confess. God will have more mercy on your soul if you came clean. You will pay your dues if you just call the police right now and end all this. Best Friends forever, Carole. A best friend wouldn’t let their other half suffer as long as you have allowed this to go on.” I could only scoff mockingly at her comment; Janis was always a one-sided person.

“I agree, Janis. Best friends wouldn’t do this to each other. A best friend wouldn’t torture their other half like this. They’d understand mistakes are mistakes and MOVE ON!” My cheek burned with pain as Janis reached out of the mirror and smacked me with force,

“Don’t give me that s**t!” She retracted her hand, “A mistake is one thing, killing someone, chopping their head off and burying them in the backyard is completely different! What you did is UNFORGIVABLE in almost every person’s eyes - they’d call you a monster. I love you like you are my own blood - I always have and that’s why I’m TRYING to get you to make the PROPER decision.” I wanted to jump in the mirror and punch her stupid head off,

“What’s more fucked up is you sending DEATH to my house to pressure me into deciding! Having him around isn’t making choosing any easier - if anything it’s blocking me from choosing correctly.” Janis only stared at me with a look of bewilderment as I stormed out of the bathroom and went into my room, only to be greeted by Mr. R sitting on my bed sipping tea and looking through my records.

“Have you no ‘Cher’?” He questioned as he continued to search,

“You mean ‘Sonny and Cher’?”

“No, just Cher, she and I are close mates.” I didn’t care to continue the conversation as I searched my closet for an outfit. Normally I’d be insecure with standing near a man while only having a towel to cover myself but I figured Death could care less - in result making me carefree, “May I suggest you wear more formal attire than those hideous jeans and floral top. Red is not a flattering color for you.” He suggested, never looking away from the records,

“Why formal? Am I going anywhere today?” I asked as I listened to his suggestion of the red shirt and placed it back on its hanger,

“Indeed you are, one of two places it seems. I happen to notice you have an acceptable black dress in the far back of the closet - the one with the sheer bell sleeves and rhinestone trim.” I knew what dress he was talking about as I pulled it out from its unseen place,

“This is the dress I wore to my Granny and Father’s funeral.” I spoke softly - thinking about the details of that day,

“Yes. Your Father was driving your Gram’s to the doctor when he was involved in a five car pileup. Tragic. That was a difficult reaping day.”

“Do you speak so rudely of all the people you kill?” The dress was loose - I remembered when it had been tighter when I wore it two years ago. I wondered how much weight I had lost over these few days.

“Again with this killing thing. I already told you, love, I don’t kill. I take souls. But to answer your question - I reap up to fifty people a day; I can’t emotionally connect with every one of them when all I have time to do is say ‘Ello’ and send them on their merry way.” Mr. R. stood from the bed and placed a 45 on my record player, ‘Crimson and Clover’ by Tommy James and The Shondells began to play.

“How do you only ‘reap’ fifty people a day? I’m pretty sure more people than that die each day.”

“Aye, always showing how smart you are. Indeed more than fifty souls are reaped a day, but I only work in this state, and the death rate is relatively low in these parts so,  since the beheaded lass asked this favor of me I’ve decided to take my time to focus my attentions on wee ol’ you. I’d feel honored if I in your shoes - which by the way you should wear, we aren’t in a barn, love.” My eye twitched with each comment he made towards my attire,

“So that means there are more of you out there? God, how horrible.”

“No, pet, I’m a one of a kind.” He grinned with satisfaction as he spoke - his narcissism was becoming more apparent. I grabbed my pair of Converse from the closet before I heard Mr. R. growl in disapproval, “Did your mum never teach you how to put a suitable outfit together? Nothing says ‘trash’ like a beautiful dress and filthy sneakers. You have black heels in the back that are far more fitting with the dress.” He had his eyes closed and his head moving slowly with the rhyme of the song as he spoke - I was semi-amazed that he was capable of knowing and seeing all without looking,

“How the hell are you able to do that?” I grabbed the heels he spoke of.

“It’s all in the eyes, love. Open or closed I see and know all.”

“Is there any particular reason of them being white? Or is that just to scare people?” I spoke in a sarcastic tone,

“They most certainly have an excuse for being the shade they are. I’m able to see special things normal folks cannot with these white bulbs, such as death days. I can see when any person’s time is up so I can’t make a mistake, on many occasions I’ve asked them if I can just put a film over the white - for the sake of color matching to my suits but they insist it’d be unprofessional, shame.” My curiosity was strengthening,

“Wait, if you can see the day I die then why are you here? Why not just leave and take me when it’s my time?”

“Simple answer, love. You have TWO death day’s hanging above that wee skull like a halo of numbers. One is under tomorrow’s date and the other… well; I can’t speak of since I am indeed a professional. But I can say it vastly differs from the first date.” The thought of having number’s above my head that were unseen to me made me visibly uncomfortable, I thought of what he said and continued to question,

“So… who are ‘They’? The death council? The round table of religious f***s? The organization of sick f***s who don’t think humans are good enough for eternal life?” Mr. R laughed to himself as he grabbed his pocket watch again,

“Questions that will be answered in 22 hours 38 minutes and… 8 seconds. Well, that is of course if you don‘t choose by then, as it is.” I grabbed for my eyeliner when Mr. R placed his hand over mine to stop me, “its unnecessary time to be wasted, love. You look famished. What say you I cook breakfast? Yes? I’ve been known to scramble eggs and jam toast like no reaper.” His touch made me uneasy but the sound of being fed was more than appealing. I nodded my head in agreement as he grabbed my hand more fully and dragged me downstairs with more haste then I desired.

 

                “I whole heartedly believe the sun rise is a cure for all pieces of mental blocking. How are you enjoying the tea? Not the best I’ve made but I do what I can with that I have.” Mr. R said as we sat in the backyard on the patio furniture that was placed next to the grave Janis resided - facing the beautiful Bur Oak tree that dominated the small field that was my backyard.

“The sun set is more my bag.” I commented as I took a sip of the warm, tart liquid.

“Those who prefer the sun setting are more prone to procrastination. They believe they have all the time in the world as long as the sky is dark. The rising of the sun brings insight and confirmation.”

“How can death be so optimistic?” I questioned as I glanced at the fresh soil mound that was to my left,

“It’s all in the job, love. Which reminds me,” He pulled his watch out like he had so many times since our first meeting, “You now have 20 hours 52 minutes and…40 seconds.” I grunted in annoyance from his constant reminder,

“Why do you have to keep reminding me? The more you tell me the longer I’m going to wait.” I threatened, Mr. R only looked at me with an arched eyebrow before turning back to look at the tree,

“As long as you’re prepared for the consequences.” He stated plainly. I was getting ready to speak further on the subject when I felt a phantom hand grasp my neck and begin to squeeze. My throat burned as I tried to gasp for breath which the unseen hand wouldn’t allow. I could feel my eyes bulge and begin to water from the pain I was enduring from my lungs tightening. My heart pumped with rapid dire begging for oxygen by making its presence know on the neck that was being held tightly. I tried to pry the invisible hand from my skin in vain, My vision blurred further as my ears rang a warning siren that my brain would soon go idle, I wanted to scream for help but all I could do was gurgle the saliva that was forming a pool near the base of my tongue. My eyes began to roll back for retreat just as I was released; I hunched forward and coughed the warm saliva that begged to be released out onto the patchy grass. The more I gasped for fresh air the more spit sucked itself into my airway resulting in more painful coughing. I tasted the bile that mixed with the tea and breakfast I had tried to enjoy escape my mouth and splatter near my shoes. I sat silently for another moment with my head hunched over and my spine quivering from the cold that surrounded me trying to recover from my anguish. It wasn’t till a repugnant stench entered my nostrils I sat up - originally thinking it was the vomit that radiated the smell. I wanted to vomit again, not being able to escape the horrid smell that made me feel like a rotting animal carcass that had sat in the sun for weeks was being shoved in my face. I tried to stand and run from the revolting stench but my legs were dead weight to the ground making it impossible to rise.

“Uh-Oh.” Mr. R muttered lowly catching my attention; I looked at the tree as he was. A branch that weighed half as much as I was soaring in my direction with exact accuracy, I whimpered in fear as I fought with my legs to stand and jump away. Panic throbbed through my body as I ducked down as far as I could - the branch smashed into the windows that were behind me making half of them shatter from the force, my back burned in pain as my legs went back to normal and I hopped out of my seat. I panted loudly from the adrenaline rush as I placed a hand behind my back and saw blood covering my finger tips. My legs gave out on me once more as I fell to my knees and searched for words to help me ignore the pain that made my body shake violently,

“The beheaded lass is displeased with your choice to procrastinate,” He stood from his chair and walked over to me casually, “Let’s go clean that nasty cut, aye?” He offered me a hand. It took me a few more moments before I could accept the help. He looked at his watch again, “Now you have 20 hours, 47 minutes and 13 seconds.”

 

                Hours moved slower than usual it seemed. I put the blame on the constant fear of the items Janis would throw in my direction, Mr. R’s odd blabbering and the high I maintained by smoking a joint every hour. My back never ceased to pain me, even after Mr. R sanitized and bandaged it - afterwards he decided to sew the tare in the back of my dress up; He claimed a person only felt their best when their outfit looked its best. Janis attacked my physical being every time she was given the chance. If she wasn’t throwing a heavy object at me she was scratching, slapping or punching me; in one instance while I was playing Scrabble with Mr. R she pinned my arms down, held my head back and scratched my face like a frantic cat - leaving multiple inch long cuts all along my face that Mr. R took the liberty of tenderly sanitizing. As her anger rose my will to live lowered. My mind was scattered and begging for release from the torture I was forcing myself to endure. I didn’t want to choose, I hoped and prayed a better option would be given to me - I continued to tell myself I’d be saved from everything soon enough. Everything will be alright. Four words that repeated themselves in my mind. With every slap on my back wound, everything will be alright. With every scratch that left red marks on my arms, everything will be alright. With every punch to my stomach, everything will be alright.

 

                “Stop it!” I shouted as I had many times before as Mr. R gave me a moment’s warning that a knife was flying at the back of my head, my reflexes became keener through these hours as I ducked.  The knife that could have shattered into my skull continued its path forward and met its ending spot when it punctured into the wall behind the record player that I had been standing near, all I wanted to do was put the radio on.

“You really should choose. The beheaded lass is only going to become more violent.” Mr. R grabbed the knife from the wall and brought it back to the kitchen where it belonged,

“If she wants me to confess so badly why does she keep trying to kill me?” My eye twitched as I spoke - another crack was forming in my mind,

“Because she knows what happens if you don’t decide in time. Care for some lunch, love?” He shouted from his unseen place,

“Uh - sure, I guess… What happens if I don’t decide in time? Do I get to just leave and have things go back to normal?” I didn’t hear the front door open behind me due to my shouting.

“Carole? Who are you talking to?” I turned and was surprised to see Jonathan standing in my doorway,

“Jonathan! Oh, I was just… talking to my uncle… What are you doing here? I didn‘t hear you knock…” He didn’t respond instantly, instead he gasped when he saw my badly bruised neck and multiple facial cuts, I could see Mr. R walk out of the kitchen and lean on the wall that separated the living room and kitchen,

“Who did this to you? Jesus, Carole - are you alright?!” He paused as he saw all the broken items that were scattered around the areas he found visible, “Where is your uncle?! Did he do this? I’ll f*****g kill him for hurting you!” I could feel the anger and fear Jonathan radiated,

“No, he didn’t do this - I’m fine… I just had a few accidents is all…”

“Where is he?” His voice grew sterner,

“He’s right over there by the kitchen.” I spoke softly as Jonathan stormed past me and entered the kitchen,

“Where? I don’t see the scumbag!” He shouted,

“He can’t see me, love. I’m here for you, remember?” Mr. R looked over his shoulder as he watched Jonathan frantically search the downstairs for my ‘Uncle’. Doors began to slam upstairs catching all our attention. Jonathan only muttered angry words as he stomped up the stairs to find who he thought was bringing harm to me,

“Determined lad, he is. Shame.” Mr. R sighed out,

“Shame? Why’s it a shame? Is something going to happen to him? What’s going to happen?!” I tried to keep my voice down as I took a few steps closer to where Mr. R stood,

“Lad is trying to protect you from what can’t be helped, love. He can’t help you no more than you can help your fragile self.”

“What do you mean by that? I didn’t do this s**t to myself if that’s what you’re implying.” I scratched my forehead with force, “I can’t handle this s**t!”

“Who are you talking to? Is it him? Where is he?” Jonathan ran back down the stairs and continued to search till he saw the small trickle of blood on my forehead from my scratching, “What the f**k is going on, Carole?”

“Nothing is going on.” I spoke defensively, taking a few more steps away from him. “Why are you here?”

“I came over to check up on you! I was about to knock but I heard you talking to someone so I decided to just come inside - Then I see you with cuts and bruises and broken s**t everywhere - I need to get you out of here.” Jonathan grabbed my hand to drag me away but my legs felt nailed to the floor,

“You know you can’t leave, pet. Rules are rules.” Mr. R only watched as Jonathan continued to pull my arm,

“What are you waiting for? Let’s leave!” Jonathan insisted as he looked around with panic,

“You will only anger the beheaded lass more if you try to escape.”

“I’m not trying to escape!” Jonathan gave me a puzzling look,

“What are you talking about? Let’s go!”

“I know you aren’t trying to escape - she begs to differ. Tell the lad to leave us be - would you like soup for lunch?”

“Carole - I’m trying to help you! Let’s leave before your uncle comes back!”

“Funny lad - quite gullible, he is.”

“Everyone stop talking for a minute!” I shouted as I tried to pry Jonathan from my hand - He looked at me as if I were insane, which I was believing more with every passing hour,

“You now have 14 hours, 23 minutes and 58 seconds.”

“Stop with that stupid watch!” I screamed again, making Jonathan even more confused,

“What the f**k are you talking about!? What watch? What the F**K is going on!?”

“Tell the lad to clear off. His interruption is beginning to give me a migraine-” My mind throbbed with pain as they both continued to talk over each other, neither listening to my plea for a moment of silence. I could feel Janis scratching one arm while Jonathan continued to pull on the other.

“STOP! I’m SICK of hearing how much longer I have! 14 hours, 14 hours, 14 hours! Let go of my hand, Jonathan! AND STOP SCRATCHING ME!!!” Everything stopped. I stood with no hands touching me in any way. My legs felt normal, my mind was beginning to clear.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jonathan slowly began to back away from me,

“Seems the lad is growing cold.”

“Leave him alone.” I whimpered out in Mr. R’s direction,

“Leave who alone? I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Carole. You’ve completely lost it. If you don’t want my help then fine - but don’t try calling me over when you feel like you need a shoulder to cry on. I’m done with this s**t,” He turned his back on me and made his way to the door, “Have fun, you crazy f*****g b***h.” The door slammed behind him as he escaped the insane asylum that surrounded me.

“Good riddance. Now, how does soup sound, love?” Mr. R glanced at his pocket watch once more, “By the way, you have 14 hours, 20 minutes and 4 seconds, now.”

“F**k this, I’m taking a nap.” I spoke as I made my way up the stairs,

“Don’t you want me to clean that cut on your forehead?” He shouted up to me,

“F**k it!”

“Alright… Don’t wrinkle your dress! I’ll wake you in thirty!”

 

                I stood on the warm sand that pushed its self between my toes making them tickle ever so slightly. The sun shined gloriously in the sky and reflected from the clear ocean water onto my pallid skin. It was as if the sun was hugging every inch of me, bringing me warmth and joy with every moment. With the heavy scent of sea salt entering my nostrils I couldn’t help but smile with bliss. The beaches of Florida are beautiful.

“I figured you’d like this place.” I heard Janis speak nonchalantly as she sat on her towel and soaked up the rays, her skin was bronze, her hair sparkled, and her head needed no help to be held up. She was normal,

“Why are you here?” I spoke with a snotty tone - still not being able to forgive her for all the pain she had put me through.

“Don’t be such a She-B***h. I’m trying to be nice, and I knew Mr. R can’t get into dreams.” I put my anger to the side and let curiosity take over,

“What do you have against him? He’s been nothing but nice to me, unlike you.” She scoffed at my compliment that was directed to Mr. R.

“Carole, he’s DEATH. It’s not safe to try to make friends with him; he’s trying to harm you.”

“What are you talking about?” I sat down next to her; the feeling of the sand between my fingers soothed me,

“He wants you dead. Why do you think he’s been so nice to you? As long as you trust him, you are more likely to choose his side. I however don’t want you to die and rot for eternity. I only asked for his help because I thought you were smart enough to understand the game. Common sense should have already kicked in about all this. I‘m trying to help you.” I looked at Janis as she spoke - I wasn’t able to fully understand what she was trying to say,

“If you’ve been trying to help me then why do you keep hurting me? I’m more likely to trust the person who warms me about knifes coming at my head then the one throwing them.”

“Well, you have it coming. The longer you wait the worse this will all become. You’re so twisted backwards on logic you aren’t seeing things as they are.” She sat up and look at me - her eyes were still black. “The clock is ticking. One of three things will happen if you don’t start choosing, and trust me - I’m trying to get you to pick the one that will bring less suffering.”

“Wait, I thought I could choose between jail and death… I have another option?”

“If you don’t decide in time. How do you think Mr. R came to be? Don’t let his charm and false joy fool you - He suffers more than any person that resides in hell.” Janis broke her eye contact as she looked off into the sun, “He’s watching you right now, thinking about the consequences that will come if you decide to turn yourself in, I’ll bet.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying to me? For all I know you could just be trying to confuse me even more and just scare me into turning myself in.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” She arched an eyebrow as she spoke, “I promise I’d never lie about this type of thing. I’m trying to save you - although you keep making me question why I even bother… He’s about to wake you up and offer you a late lunch. Don’t tell him about this dream - I’ll talk to you later.”

                I opened my eyes to see Mr. R hovering over me with his watch in hand,

“Time to wake, love - you took a rather long nap. Now you only have 11 hours, 57 minutes and 15 seconds.” I thought about the dream for a moment as I sat up, “Seems you were having a rather pleasant dream… may I ask what it was about?”

“Oh, I… don’t really remember.” I chose to listen to Janis and not reveal what my dream had been about,

“Shame, care for a belated lunch? I’m sure you must be hungry.” I felt a moment of panic but hid it with a simple nod of the head. I was going to make it a point to pay more attention to Mr. R and if he had any unknown intentions.

 

                “How much longer so I have now?” I asked Mr. R as we sat in front of the television watching the weather mindlessly; he pulled his pocket watch out and began to do the math in his head again,

“That’d be 9 hours, 13 minutes and… 27 seconds, love. Why do you ask?”

“No particular reason, just curious… May I ask you a few other questions to make time go by?”

“Sure thing! I’ve always enjoyed a good question!” Mr. R sat forward as he spoke in a gleeful tone,

“Are you really happy with what you do?” I was a slight grin on his face after I spoke the words,

“To be honest? The first fifty years were the worst - I cursed every day I had to take another soul. The look I’d get from all the people was the worst part, I say. But with every year since I’ve grown to enjoy what I do more and more. I used to believe I was a horrible creature for what I did but now I’ve come to realize I’m an important piece of life, without the people like me mortals wouldn’t appreciate the life they live. The only true downfall is the loneliness, the only interacting I do is speak to a human for a few moments, occasionally speak with my superiors and sometimes I‘ll converse with people like meself but I don‘t enjoy their company all that much, bunch of animals, they are.”

“So that means you were human once, right? How long have you been a reaper?” I knew I shouldn’t have been as interested in his responses as I was - but I felt like there was something about Mr. R that I not only admired but… enjoyed.

“Oh yes, I was human. All of my kind used to be human. I’ve personally been doing this for… 87 years, I believe.” I sat silently and looked at him for a moment; though his eyes were white I saw a glint of sadness,

 “How did you come to be? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking…”

“I, too, made a mistake.” He paused with a sigh before continuing on, “My mind was sick from ale. I came home to find my wife and some bloke…” The pain was visible on his face, “Needless to say, I found myself in a situation much like you-”

“You didn’t choose in time, did you?” I extended a hand and placed it on his, bringing us both a small piece of comfort. Mr. R looked into my eyes and smiled weakly,

“No, I did not… For professional purposes I don’t think I can speak any more on this subject.” He took his hand from mine and stood,

“Tell me what I should do.” I pleaded as he turned the TV off, “What should I do?”

“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear or what I should?” He spoke distantly as he searched the records that were near us,

“I know what I want to hear. I want to hear what you THINK, not what you’re supposed to say.” He didn’t respond - instead he placed The Drifters on the record player, ‘Save The Last Dance For Me’ oozed out of the speakers. “Am I just another soul to be taken? Am I supposed to live? Am I supposed to be like you? Please, tell me what you think…”

“Know what I think?” He offered his hand to help me rise from my seat, “I think we should dance.” I wanted to pressure him more to get the answer I desired. I wanted to push him and demand for this game to end, but instead I took his hand and danced. The awkward comfort we felt being so close was apparent for both of us, Hell could wait.

 

I glanced at my alarm clock from my seat on the floor of my room. I had eight hours left. Mr. R lay napping on my bed with his hat on his chest, He seemed so restless as his eyes would twitch and he’d mouth muted words of desperation. I had Pink Floyds ‘Dark Side Of The Moon’ playing lowly so I wouldn’t wake him, I felt more comfortable being in the same room as him; I couldn’t understand why Death brought such comfort but I decided to not question it further. As I sat on the hardwood floor I thought about my life, what I accomplished, who I hurt, who I loved, why Mr. R was there. Fate and Destiny. It was fate that brought Janis into my life, it was a mistake that took her away, and it was my destiny to meet Mr. R. What would my mother think of all this? I was blessed to have her as my flesh and blood. She loved me more than I could ever love another person. She supported me no matter what I chose to do, she believed I’d grow up and be a famous writer, or a musician at the very least. ‘Carole, god gave you a creative mind for a reason,’ she’d say, ‘Whatever you decide to do with it I’ll be proud to call you my daughter.’ I missed her, I miss her. If I could have hugged her one more time I knew I’d feel better, funny how all your life you feel embarrassed when a parent hugs you yet when you truly feel that you need them - they are nowhere in reach. My thoughts were derailed when I saw Mr. R begin to panic within his dream.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He rolled over onto his side as his whimpered the words out, his hat rolled off the bed and onto the floor, “Please… Please…” I grabbed the hat and placed it onto my head for safe keeping as I continued to listen, “Stop-it. Stop-it.” I felt connected with him through his nightmare, even after all these years he was being tortured for the mistake he made… I would be just as haunted as he is if I didn’t choose in time.

“Mr. R,” I shook his shoulder softly, “Mr. R - wake up, you’re having a nightmare.” His eyes opened abruptly, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…yeah.” He sat up slowly and wiped the sweat from his forehead, “Sorry if I gave you a fright, love. You know how the monsters creep into the mind.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” I spoke as I took the hat from my head and offered it to him; he smiled as he grabbed it and put it back to its rightful place,

“Hats don’t work well for you. That wee head of yours is too round.” He paused with a chuckle, “Care to sit outside for the sun setting?” I extended an arm to help him up that he reluctantly accepted,

“We could still catch the ending.”

 

“This s**t is getting beyond ridiculous. I swear if I had known you were this retarded I would have never befriended you all those years ago.” Janis spoke to me as I washed my hands in the bathroom; I almost forgot she was still around,

“I’m not retarded.” I stated plainly as I continued to wash my hands. Her firm grip pulled my hair from her place in the mirror - making my scalp throb with pain as my face was only half an inch away from hers.

“Yes, my dear best friend - you ARE retarded. Anyone who was even remotely intelligent would have ended this bullshit long ago. But instead you are sitting around having a jolly ol’ time with that scumbag.”

“Mr. R isn’t a scumbag! He is a nice man who made a mistake in his past and is paying his dues. If you even bothered to talk to him then you would know that.” My voice was hostile, my attitude sour.

“Oh my god,” She laughed out mockingly, “You have a crush on him! I should have known, you always had horrible taste. How pathetic are you for trolling after Death! Let me guess - next you are going to say ‘I don’t like him that way, Janis. He’s a nice person and he doesn’t try to pressure me into f*****g him and blah blah blah’ Jesus, look at yourself. You are a disgusting excuse for a human being.” Tears began to form in my eyes as she continued to judge me. I wanted to kill her all over again; I wanted to proudly scream from my roof top I slit her throat and chopped off her head. My remorse continued to lessen as my shame for being happy the b***h was dead began to rise,

“SHUT THE F**K UP!!!” I shouted as loud as my vocal box would allow, Janis only snarled, “All these years I’ve done nothing but make you happy. I’ve wasted all this time for YOU. Everything I ever said or did never mattered; it was always ‘The Janis Show’! Well I’m sick of it! I’m glad I killed you because it’s my time now - I wish I took more satisfaction in that night, instead I was weak and felt bad. I’m sick of feeling bad and I’m sick of YOU.” I threw my fists at the mirror repeatedly. My hands went numb as the glass broke and fell into the sink piece by piece - I continued to punch the remaining pieces as my blood coated the wall.

“Calm down, love!” Mr. R shouted as he ran into the bathroom and held my arms down, “Calm down…” His whisper sent a chill down my spine but it couldn’t cool my anger, “Calm… Don’t let the lass get the best of you.” My tears streamed down my face at the same rate my blood dripped down to the floor.

“I hate her. I hate her more than words can describe.” I held my head as high as I could as Mr. R held me from behind and examined my hands,

“I know, love. I know. Be calm for me, I need to get the glass out of your hands and sanitize it before you regain feeling. Yes?” I kept my eyes forward and looked at the deep crimson blood that was beginning to dry on the wall,

“I want to feel the pain… I need to feel the pain… How much longer do I have?” I spoke through gritted teeth,

“Don’t worry about that, love.” He sighed out as he examined my hands further.

“No. I need to know.” He paused for a moment before letting one of hands go, I heard him sigh again as he looked at his watch.

“6 hours, 17 minutes and 59 seconds.”

“I’d rather die then give her the satisfaction of knowing I went to jail because of her stupid, dead a*s.” I could feel Mr. R gently rest his head on mine,

“Don’t make a decision in this state - that’s what she wants you to do. Sit down for me, love. Let us fix you up.”

“No.” I pulled myself away from him, “I chose, god damn it. I want to die.”

“Hush, love. Sit, please.” He tried to grab my hand and have me sit on the toilet; I smacked his hand away and backed up till I couldn’t go any further due to the sink,

“Are you deaf!? I. WANT. TO. DIE! Take my soul and let me sit in Hell - it’s better than this s**t!”

“I won’t do it. Now sit.” His voice grew more firm,

“Why!? Isn’t this the best part of your stupid f*****g job!? WHY THE F**K ARE YOU MAKING THIS SO F*****G DIFFICULT!?!” I screamed as I pushed him into the wall behind him,

“BECAUSE I FANCY YOU! Now sit the F**K down!” I went silent as he pulled my arm and pushed me down onto the toilet, “Bloody hell, are all you Americans this difficult to speak with?” I went mute as he grabbed a pair of tweezers to get the little chips of glass that were deep within my knuckles.

 

 

                The conversations between Mr. R and I were minimal after what had happened in the bathroom two hours earlier, yet no discomfort was felt. It was a mutual silence of unspoken acceptance. I didn’t mind having the time to think, I was back down to two choices. To die or to reap - which was the better decision? At least with death you wouldn’t have to worry about anything aside from staying away from the fire at all costs.

“Uh-Oh.” I heard Mr. R mutter taking me out of my thought, I knew whatever he noticed wasn’t going to be something enjoyable. “It’s the beheaded lass.” He pointed out the windows that were sharing the same area as her grave. With steady steps I approached one of the unbroken windows and looked outside, the wind was fierce, the rain dramatic. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for - till I saw the soil that kept Janis below start to move. Panic. I refused to believe what I was watching was a reality. Slowly a hand clawed to the surface and felt around frantically for a semi-sturdy anchor. With a thick root in hand I watched as the body pulled its self upwards - facing my direction. It took the headless body a moment to stand; the rain washed the mud from her body but could not rid it of the decay that set in. Worms wiggled for safety within the holes that had become their homes, maggots fell to the mud below. I wanted to vomit as I watched intently. I muttered words of fear as the headless body reached down into the mud and fished till it found the head that I wished never to see again, the eyes were rotted, making it easier for them to fall out of her skull and down to the mud with the maggots and worms. I saw her blink. I saw her glare. I saw her head being thrown at the window that separated us,

“NO!” I screamed out as I dropped to the floor and heard glass shatter around me. I didn’t want to get up, I felt safe in my curled up ball where I could hide my face safely.

“Get up you piece of s**t.” Janis spoke sternly. I didn’t obey her command, “Get up, now!” My side felt sore as she kicked me,

“Now deary, that’s a tad unnecessary.” Mr. R advised as he helped me up from the ground. The window that her head supposedly busted was untouched. Vomit sat in the back of my throat- the stench and sight of her sent my senses into a revolting tangent. I watched the maggots crawl between the crease that was her neck and the unattached head she tried to hold in place.

“You both sicken me. I tried to be nice, I tried to play fair. All I wanted was just a little piece of f*****g justice. But now - I’m done with being fair, if you get to play dirty then so do I.” She attempted to claw at me as she spoke through her gritted teeth that had already begun to rot but Mr. R pushed me behind him so she was unable to accomplish her goal,

“This is not about fair, love. You speak of deserved justice yet you seem oblivious to the fact that regardless - you are being justified. Carole is to pay for what she did in some form, I’m sorry if it may not be in the way you desired.”

“Bullshit! I’m not being justified by her sitting in here with you playing f*****g Scrabble and sipping f*****g tea! The weak b***h hasn’t even made an effort in coming clean or even apologizing the right way. If she was TRULY sorry for what she did she’d already be dead! I want her to know what it’s like to FEEL bugs eating away at her flesh just to get to her rotting organs. I want her to HEAR the sound of maggots crawling through her ears and chomping their way to her brain. She stands there pretending she knows what pain is, what torture feels like - she has no f*****g idea and she’s too chicken s**t to find out.”

“Hold on a second, b***h.” I stepped in front of Mr. R as the words escaped my mouth without thought behind them, “It’s not Mr. R you need to be saying this s**t to. Talk to me, not him.” She scoffed at my courage,

“Oh watch out, here comes big-bad Carole to stand up for herself. Why don’t you go back to hiding behind the f****t - you’ve never been good at fighting your battles.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me. For the first time in my life I can say that knowing I’m not lying to myself. I’m not afraid of you anymore and I’m not afraid of dying - so if you want your ‘Justice’ then come on, I have no problem with killing you again.” I glanced back at Mr. R, though he looked concerned he knew this wasn’t his battle - he had no right to get involved.

“I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you gasp for that last bit of air.” Janis jumped as she attempted to punch me and hold her head at the same time - her fist met my temple as my hands grabbed at her hair and pulled the detached head away from her body, I threw the rancid piece of trash as far as I could and smiled with joy as I saw it crash into a wall and plop to the floor. I was surprised as her body continued the fight sans head, her hands wrapped themselves around my neck and I was pushed to the floor with her on top of me squeezing with all her strength. The feeling I had gotten earlier that day by the tree came back but I continued to fight for my freedom - I scratched at her arms frantically, her skin and muscles had softened to the point where I was able to dig my nails into her flesh and pull chunks out. I grunted for air as I tugged at her left arm and heard her shoulder pop out of place giving me a chance to roll us both and lessen her tight grip around my throat, I wasn’t getting much air but I was able to suck enough to continue. I kept my attention on her left arm knowing it was the easiest target, I sat forward and kicked my legs at her chest and pulled her arm tighter. I could feel her bones crack, her skin rip as the arm went limp around my neck and allowed me to pull it from her body and mine and throw it to the side. I instantly went to work on the right arm - doing the same as I had while it scratched around my neck and lower face. I found ripping the rotting arm off to be easier the second time. Her legs kicked frantically as I lifted myself from the floor and stomped my heels into her chest, my legs were soaked in blood and organ pieces and I continued to jump, hearing my heels break her skin and squish her useless insides, her legs still kicked - annoying me further. I knew I needed to make them stop flailing around so I took my feet from her chest and pressed them firmly on her knee caps. I grabbed her right leg first and pulled it forward with all the force I could - the sound of her knee caps popping, her muscles tearing and her bone breaking made me smile, I repeated the motion to her left leg. Her body moved no longer - I felt victorious,

“Hey, dumb-f**k! You can’t kill someone who’s already dead!” I heard her shout from her place by the wall. My legs felt weak as I walked over to her head and kicked it away from the wall.

“I can still make you shut the f**k up.” I spoke with glee as I dropped my foot down with all my weight - The sound of her skull cracking and the sight of her browned brain pushing out of her eye sockets in chunks only made me pant with laughter. It wasn’t till that moment that I was able to understand why people killed - that warm throbbing feeling of superiority that rushed from your toes up to the head that gave you the illusion that you were floating was better than sex.

“She’ll be back, you know.” Mr. R interrupted my utopian bliss as he placed a hand on my shoulder - my foot was still resting inside the cold skull,

“I know. But I have silence, finally. I have time to enjoy myself. How long do I have, Mr. R?”

“We have, 4 hours, 47 minutes and 3 seconds.” I turned to him as he spoke,

“Wonderful.” I gave him a quick kiss and held the smile on my face, “I know what I want to choose.” His face was a mixture of surprise and curiosity,

“Death?”

“No. I want to be with you. I want to be like you.” He sighed and lowered his head,

“No, love. You aren’t thinking clearly. You don’t want to be like me, it’s a lonely and bleak life.”

“It doesn’t have to be lonely. We can be together - you understand me and I you.”

“We can’t… you’re a mere child.” Depression began to settle in as Mr. R refused to make eye contact with me - I never thought white eyes could seem so attractive till you were unable to look into them. I took my foot out of Janis’s head and took a few steps away from Mr. R and the bodies splatter,

“Rejection’s a b***h…” I muttered softly to myself, I could feel Mr. R approached me once again and hold my hand lightly,

“This is what I want you to do, love. I want you to go think things over. I will keep the beheaded lass from being of nuisance. Time alone is what you need to freshen the mind. Yes?” I chose not to respond as I let his grip on my hand go and walk away in silence.

 

 

Now we are in present time. I’ve been locked in this bathroom for the last few hours writing my story, it wouldn’t have taken this much time but Janis has made it a point to interrupt my writing as much as possible and Mr. R has been reminding me how much time I have left, a few moments ago he told me he told me I had fifteen minutes left. I’m sorry if my tale seems rushed, confused or just entirely insane. Still I question my reality, unsure if perhaps I’m already dead. Whoever is reading this may be asking themselves why I wasted my last few hours of life sitting in a bathtub writing my tale - I have an answer for you. I want to be heard, I want to be remembered. No one wants to be forgotten, and no one wants to be remembered through the wrong lighting. I’d hate to know that my mother would be hounded for answers she did not have. I hold all the answers people ask the questions for, I’m not a bad person - I’m not. I made a mistake, everyone is entitled to make mistakes - perhaps my mistake was on the extreme side but it was a mistake no less. I need to end this soon - time continues to tick and I need to inform Mr. R of my decision. I could tell you - my reader - what I have chosen but as a writer I know the worst thing a person could do is give away the ending. I will end this all with words I wish my mother to hear. Mom, are you reading this? I love you. I love you more than the moon, sun, sky, and world. I’m sorry for what I did, I’m sorry I’ll never get to hug you again, I’m sorry I’ll never hear you sing to me again, I’m sorry you have to live with the pain of losing your mother, husband and daughter all in such a short span of time. I’ll never be able to understand the pain you feel - I can’t even fathom how deep this pain will root within you. But I promise you - PROMISE YOU - I’ll always be in your heart and I’ll always keep an eye on you - I’ll wait to see you again someday, but please - don’t make me wait too little. Continue your life, hold your head high, and don’t let people make you feel shame. Remember me for what I was, not what I became. I love you… and I already miss you.

 

 

My time is reaching the end. Goodbye to you all, Goodbye mom,

 

Carole Chapmen

 

 

 

                Jason Jenzy stood silently against the bus stop bench alone. The sun throbbed down onto his bald head making his sweat glands work overtime. How he loathed the state of Florida, how he dreamed of living in a place where winter wasn’t summer. He kicked the bench lightly with muttered words of annoyance, he had to be at work in fifteen minutes and the bus was late, ‘If my boss b*****s I’m going to blow up.’ he thought to himself. His attention and anger lowered as he watched a girl in an outdated black dress and low heels approached him. Her black sun glasses reflected the sun into his eyes further, making him wince.

“Afternoon.” She spoke casually as she sat down on the bench and looked in his direction, Jason smiled to himself - it wasn’t everyday a pretty teenage girl talked to the overweight, middle aged man.

“Going to a 70s party, are you?” He joked lightly, hoping to make the girl giggle. She smiled with amusement, “I remember the seventies; fun days back then. You could get away with murder back then and no one would know any better. But you wouldn’t know. All you kids now ah-days just sit on your computers and watch CSI. Youth, how wonderful it was.” Jason babbled, he was never good at talking to pretty girls. The girl giggled lightly, making Jason feel a boost of courage,

“Fun days I bet they were, I’m sure.” she spoke with an amused, sarcastic tone.

“My names Jason, Jason Jenzy.” He extended an arm to shake hers, hoping her skin was as soft as it seemed, she didn’t accept the greeting,

“My names Carole Repaer, but please call me Mrs. R - and I already knew you’re name Mr. Jenzy.” Jason looked at the girl confused; he sorted though his memory to see if he knew the girl - his interest lowered slightly when he heard her say ‘Mrs.’

“How do you know my name?” Mrs. R chuckled as she looked at her wrist watch that had a transparent cover on it.

“I know a lot of things, Mr. Jenzy,” She paused as she took her sunglasses off to reveal her white eyes that shined brightly as the sun hit them, Jason felt his panic rise as he looked into the white eyes, “You have ten seconds to live.”

“What the f**k kind of joke is this? You’re f*****g insane, kid.” He defensively spoke out as he took a few steps away from Mrs. R; not realizing he walked into the street right as the bus came roaring by. His body smashed into the grill, his blood splattered onto the road. Mrs. R placed her sun glasses back over her eyes as she casually walked over to Jason’s body that plopped to the asphalt below as the bus screeched to a stop. She placed her hand over his chest and pulled the orb of light that was his soul from his body,

“Time for a new beginning, Mr. Jenzy.” she spoke with glee as she released the orb into the sky to make its journey to the life after death.

“Excellent job, my pet.” Mr. R said as he walked over to Mrs. R and gave her a simple kiss.

“Thank you, my love.”

Author's Note

I know it's long but I'd really like to know how people feel about this story so I know if it's worth spending more time on fixing