Chapter 1: The Death of Carla Quinn

A Chapter by Joshua J. Bracks

Meet Carla Quinn. The most average woman she ever did know.

From the Journal of Demitri Fubu: The Exploits of a Dead Woman

Chapter 1: The Death of Carla Quinn

Carla Quinn was an every-day woman. She was neither fat, nor skinny. She was neither pretty, nor ugly. She didn’t like to wear makeup, but she did; even though she wasn’t particularly good at wearing it - even though she usually didn’t even leave the house. She was neither young, nor old; being born on the 21^st of January 1973 and dying on the 23^rd of October, 2013. She wasn’t a genius, but she wasn’t dumb. She was neither single, nor married. In fact, she was engaged to a man who she neither hated, nor loved. She wasn’t really sure if marriage was right for her. But, her father and mother did, so why not? It was the normal thing to do; get married and have kids.

Hough, her fiancée, seemed to think the world of her. Or, maybe he was desperate. Carla liked to think that at least. What man would be interested in the plainest woman in the world? She supposed the plainest man in the world might. But Hough was no such thing. He was handsome and happy and well-sought after by many women. He wasn’t rich, but he was well off. And he was busy - too busy for Carla most of the time; which suited her very well. It meant that she didn’t have to deal with him.

She didn’t very much like to deal with anyone. So she worked from home doing data entry. It didn’t pay well but it paid the bills.

Carla liked to imagine herself as the most inconspicuous grain in a bowl of rice. The kind that wouldn’t be noticed even if it were the last one left in a bowl; over-boiled and smashed against the stoneware so it were more mush than something that could be considered actually whole or real.

Why anyone or anything would take notice of her was beyond her. Why Hough took notice of her was even further beyond her. But at least he gave her some kind of color. So, when Hough, that one annoyance in her life that she couldn’t really push away, nor cared to (Perhaps it would be better put to say that she actually enjoyed that one bit of her life, rather than subjecting it to the apathy she did everything else she had to deal with) cut ties with her in a short e-mail reading, “Decided to move to London. You understand…” she became a bit less than apathetic towards everything else.

In fact… She finally understood what it meant to be jaded.

Suddenly, Carla Quinn was no longer an every-day woman. The day after reading Hough’s e-mail, while putting on her makeup, she saw a woman who was fat, ugly and clownish. She was old, stupid and hopelessly single. She didn't want to get married or have kids. But she felt that she needed it. She needed the validation of others even though she couldn't stand being around them.

So, she went for a walk. She went for this walk because she felt the need to be around people who she didn't know. During this walk, she saw everything that was good and nice about the world. She saw families and lovers and friends. She saw that which she didn't have and, although it didn't quite disgust her, it made her realize something. Carla Quinn didn't belong.

So, Carla Quinn’s little walk became a pretty long one that continued into an even longer hike in the wilderness that started a few miles from her home. This hike of hers didn't end until her legs were too tired and her feet were too sore to continue.

Standing at the edge of a cliff face, Carla Quinn decided that this would be as good a place as any to remove herself from this world in which she just didn't belong. The Sun had set by this point, so all the other hikers had gone home and there was no camping allowed in this park. She was far enough into the wilderness that she was likely not to be found for a long time. Or at least that’s what she told herself. She could be removed from society and no one would know.

Being too tired to jump, Carla simply fell over the side of this cliff.

Suddenly, Carla Quinn was more than just an every-day woman. She was too attractive and thin for such a silly fate. Why did she think this was a good idea only moments ago? Why had she taken the final step before realizing her self-worth? Carla Quinn was still young. She was intelligent and fiercely independent! If someone could come along and save her, she would live her life differently. How differently, she didn't know. But she would make something of it.

So falling in the fading light of the setting sun, Carla cried out for help. She screamed louder than she had ever screamed before. For three fleeting stories, she knew that she would die.

Then she saw him. He was a flying hero dressed in white flowing robes that trailed behind him like the tail of a kite. She’d have called him an Angel but she knew angels white wings. This man’s were, like his hair, black and healthy. She could not see his face, for it was obscured by his hood and hair. But she could hear his voice. It was strong and mighty.

“I’ll save you,” he called.

And Carla Knew that she would not die this day. Carla Knew she had been saved by this winged man who should not have existed. But he did.

What happened next, happened faster than Carla could comprehend. But, I have a first-hand account from the winged man, exactly what he did and why he did it. From the sheath within his robes he pulled out a short, sharp, single edged blade and, with precision, removed her head from her shoulders.

Carla Quinn did not expect this. It was part of the salvation that the winged man offered. It was, as he put it, necessary. As were a few things that he soon told Carla, whose next memory was that of a soul without a body.

Carla Quinn, was now a ghost.

“Now that you value your life,” the winged man spoke to the ghost of Carla Quinn, “it may be saved.” This notion, although somewhat confusing to Carla Seemed simple. “Once you have paid me for saving your life, it shall be returned to you. And so, I present you with a task.”

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