Volume 5

Volume 5. 

I.

Months later, it was, a Tuesday. The doorbell rang, and Johnny's eyes snapped open from where they had been closed for a nap that never came. He pushed his legs off the side of the couch -- holding his cane against the floors. For a moment he stared at the door, it wasn't Dawn. She had a key. He contemplated even answering, before he rose and opened it forth to stare down at Sam Weizak. 
"Hello John."
Silence. 
"May I come in?"
More silence, but John nodded, moving from the doorway to make room for Sam to enter, which he did. John closed the door behind him. Sam looked around, "Where's Miss Edwards?"
"She's out, with one of her girlfriends.."
John sunk into the couch, tiredly with a sigh. "How did you find me? My father?"
Sam nodded, smiling. "Stopped off to see him, and he told me you moved to a new town. He's worried about you. And so am I,"
Johnny shrugged, 
"There's nothing to worry about, I'm taking care of myse-lf.." His voice cracked, "It's about time."
Sam raised an eyebrow upward, "I'm still your doctor, John. You're still under my care. We have to, well.. We have to stay in touch."
Johnny shrugged, quirking an eyebrow upward. "Well,"
Then the headache started. 
Sam looked around, smiling. "Nice place you have here.."
Johnny held his hand against his temple, his voice lowering to a whisper. "It's home,"
Sam rose, stood so that he towered over Johnny. "Those headaches are getting worse, aren't they?"
John sighed, "Three or four times a day, sometimes."
They usually went away quicker when Dawn was here, rubbing his shoulder or making him some tea. 
Sam sighed thoughtfully, before setting his bag down on the table and opening it up. "I brought you some new medication,"
Johnny looked up, though his head pounded he protested. "No! No more pills,"
"The healing process is slow, I've told you many times--"
John interrupted him, mid sentence with a warning glare starting in hie eyes. "I'm not getting better, I'm getting worse.. Isn't that right?"
Sam stood up straight, silently defeated until he looked over at John and nodded, "Alright." He took a seat in a chair, next to the pale-skinned man. Bags had formed under Johnny's eyes, and his eyes had sunken into his skull. His profile continuously seemed to be thinning out, and within the matter of a few more years it appeared that he would be a walking skeleton. 
"Alright," Sam said. He looked at John, whom never moved his eyes from the man.
"Over the past few months I've done some research, into the area of psychic phenomenon. Some cases, such as your's, have been documented I was.. Surprised, to discover. And the pattern, is always the same. As the spells the, the visions, grow stronger and more powerful.. So the body weakens."
Johnny looked at him, a smile curving onto his mouth that made Sam extremely uneasy. "You mean I'm gonna die?" he grinned, though it faded to no more than an amused smirk. "How long?"
Sam shook his head, "I think we can -- we can slow down the process. Reverse it, even."
"How do you do that?"
"Come back with me,"
"Where?"
Sam furrowed his eyebrows, "To the clinic, of course."
"No! Absolutely no."
Sam sighed desperately, "John, you must!"
John looked at him, gaze laced in suspicion. "Why? So you can study me?"
"Nuh," Sam protested. "So I can protect you. You need to be in a, in a controlled environment, John."
John scoffed, and he paused before he nodded. "I need to show you something." He stood, and began walking before Sam could answer. "Come with me."
Johnny lead him up the stairs, to a small white closet where he had to unlock it to open it. When John did open it, he swung open the door. 
"The cards and letters just keep pouring in,"
Sam glanced at it, eyes wide and curious before he looked at John innocently. "What is all this?"
John sighed, "It's people, I-- Lost dogs, lost children, lost lives."
Sam glanced into the closet again, "You haven't even opened them.."
"I don't have to," Johnny said. "They all want the same thing. Reassurance, help, love -- things I can't give them. My father sends this stuff, but I just let it pile up.."
"Why?" Sam asked, "Why do you keep it?"
"This is why I can't go out, live my life. Why I have to stay locked up here in the house, I'm already living in a controlled environment, Sam."
Johnny closed the door to the closet and locked it. "Nothing can touch me here," Again, his blue eyes shifted to Sam. The look in John Smith's eyes sent an uncomfortable shiver up the doctor's spine. There was always something within Johnny Smith's eye.. Something tired, and something heartbreakingly sad.
"Except for Dawn, I'm alone." He said, "I'm safe."

After Sam left, Johnny was alone again. He sat on the couch with a cup of coffee and contemplated silently to himself, wondering if he should kill himself or not. The only thing keeping him from doing it, he realized, was Dawn Edwards. He couldn't hurt her like that. 
Then he wondered, if he were to do it, how would he do it? He had so many pills.. It would be so easy to O.D.. But was that too overplayed? There were plenty of places in this big old house where he could hang himself. But would he be able to make the noose? Probably not. He certainly wouldn't perform something as gruesome as Frank Dodd.
He let himself begin to doze, but it didn't last long and again he was awake and waiting for his girl to come home. 
After about an hour of this, Johnny bundled up in his coat and limped his way down to the nearest jewelry store. He bought her a ring. He was going to propose to her, that night after she got home. It was a beautiful little silver Claddagh, because she said that if he ever got her a ring that that is what she wanted. The heart was a diamond, and there were parts of the crown above the heart that were also diamonds. The band was a Celtic-knot. It was a beautiful little ring. 
He spent the rest of the day cleaning the house, and making himself look as presentable as he possibly could. Not too much, because he knew she wouldn't want him looking any different. That was the thing about Dawn, she loved him how he looked -- she wouldn't want him any other way. 
After he finished, it was near dark. He spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the couch and watching television, waiting for her with the ring enclosed in it's little velvet black box, held in his hand. Slowly, he practiced how he would propose to her in his head. 

II.

 Dawn looked over at Rosalie Young -- the two women had met at college. They had been friends ever since then, and had never had a terribly large fallout. Rosalie drove a silver Volkswagen, Dawn in the backseat and Alexandria Love, Rosalie's associate, in the front passenger. A giggle erupted from the three girls, and Dawn shook her head,
"So, tell us more about this Johnny. You hardly said a thing about him, I mean damn." Rose said, quietly as she glanced at Dawn in the rear view. 
A rosy blush came to Dawn's cheeks, and she shrugged. "I loved the guy ever since high school,"
A chorus of awwww's broke from the two other women, causing all three to giggle again. 
"He's beautiful, Rose, I mean.. He gets me, you know? Hey, you remember Jayson Crane? You remember how when we went out, we had nothing in common? Johnny's the complete opposite."
Rose smiled, "Well I'm glad you found someone, Dawn, It's about time."
Alexandria contemplated to herself, "You said his name was John Smith, right?"
Dawn swallowed, getting a bit uneasy now. Defensive. "Yes,"
"I read about a John Smith in the papers.. Some psychic."
Dawn nodded slowly, "Yeah.. That's him. That's my Johnny."
The car grew silent. An uneasy silence, and suddenly Rose glanced back at her. "You're dating a psychic? Dawn.. I thought you were an odd one before," Humor rang in her voice. "But I mean --"
Dawn looked out the windshield. Suddenly, her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. 
"Rose, Rose watch out!"
Alexandria shrieked, and Rose faced forward but it was too late. The car swerved, but the other car was speeding along in the wrong lane and she didn't see quick enough to get out of the way. 
The two cars met head on, and Rosalie Young's little Volkswagen flipped into the air and spun, landing hard on it's roof. Rose died instantly, and blood sprayed against the windshield in front of her. Suddenly, the gas tank spurt open, and fuel leaked slowly from the line -- quickly, without hesitation it ignited. The car set aflame. 
Dawn let out a scream, almost instantly. Alexandria followed, and quickly Dawn began to try and escape. A voice began to yell in her head, Escape, get away, claw, punch, break, whatever you can! Bones heal, hearts don't when they stop! Get out!!
Dawn began to hit against the car door, punched at it even, but she was in the middle of the three back seats and the seat belt began to hold so hard against her chest that it hurt to move. It was stuck. "Help!" She shrieked, "HELP ME, SOME ONE PLEASE!!"
She clawed at the leather and the cloth on the door until her nails began to break off bleed, smearing crimson against the gray fabric; and she began to cry hysterically. Smoke started to creep, slink in until it started to fill the car, and it burned at her throat and her chest as she pounded on the window pathetically. 
She began to cough, cough violently. Another shriek erupted from Alexandria, who had begun to burn to death in the front seat. The smell of burning hair and flesh gagged Dawn Edwards, and she cried hysterically while she clawed at her seat belt. 
"No," She yelled, pulling and ripping at it and smearing her own blood on the gray fabric. "No, no! Come undone!"
She coughed, and slowly the flames began to lap at her feet and she began to kick and thrash about wildly before she began to scream Johnny's name. Over and over, she screamed for him. Maybe he'd hear her, maybe with his mind he'd hear her, and save her. She couldn't die like this, not with Johnny at home waiting for her. She screamed out again in pain as the flames lapped at her feet and legs, and slowly she felt her skin begin to bubble and glow red as it burned. 
The pain was unbearable, and the coughing had begun to sting her chest as she felt her skin begin to singe off, and smoke fill her lungs. Tears screamed down her face, but they dried off almost as quickly as they came from the extreme, sick heat that was now burning her away legs first. 
"Johnny! Jo--" She coughed, blood beginning to bubble from her lips. "Johnny! Help me, please! Don't let me--" She coughed again, blood splattered from her. She could taste it.. Metallic and salty against her tongue. "Don't let me die like this! JOHNNY!"
She cried out wildly, and her skin screamed far more loudly than she could, though it was silent as the fire crisped through her flesh. Her skin had begun to glow a disturbing color of red, and it blistered away as the smoke encircled her. She gave one last struggle, kicking and thrashing as best she could, clawing at the cloth on the roof -- kicking at the front seat, where Rosalie flopped around limply, or what was left of her.. She had punched a hole through the window, but it did no good. Smoke consumed her, and slowly she stared upward at death, as it beckoned it's bony finger at her and whispered grimly for her to let go.
No pain now.. "Johnny.. Oh Johnny, I'm sorry. I tried, I tried Johnny." She whispered his name once more, before everything went black.

 A light.. A light shone through the darkness. She was flying? Yes? No.. Maybe not. Suddenly all was black but that light, and voices echoed around her.
A hallway? Perhaps it was a hallway.. Of some sort. The light, get to the light. Maybe Johnny would be there -- maybe she'd wake up in a hospital. She'd rather wake up in a hospital with no limbs than die, than leave without seeing her Johnny one last time. She tried to whisper his name, but she was mute -- as if something has stolen away her tongue. But nevertheless, she kept her feet walking down the hallway. Voices began to dance around her, some whispering in tongues that she couldn't understand. Strange, ancient tongues.. No matter what, she never wanted to stop until she got to the light. For some reason, it seemed safe there.. She just had to get to it. 
The journey was shorter than she had expected. Though ghostly voices echoed around her, in circles, she was close now.. So close that she could touch it...

III.

 Johnny got the call at two in the morning. The phone rang and shrieked loudly, so loud that it echoed against almost every wall in the big, old house.
"Hello, is this John Smith, no middle initial?"
Johnny held the phone to his ear, exhausted. He had fallen asleep.. Somehow, he had knocked out cold. How could he have fallen asleep? Where's Dawn?
"Yes, this is John Smith."
"Mr. Smith, please hold for a moment?"
"Wait, I--"
Too late. Clunk. 
John grumbled into the phone, bemused. A call at two in the morning to be put on hold. Idiots.. For some reason, he refrained from hanging up the phone. Something told him to keep it against his ear. 
A different voice now. 
"Mr. Smith?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry to have to give this news to you, but Miss Dawn Edwards has been in a terrible, tragic--"
Johnny's face grew hard, like a stone. Flames flashed into his head, the sound of a scream. It was so hot..
"No," He whispered. 
"Mr. Smith?"
"NO!" John screamed into the phone, then he spoke very quickly in a fit of words and hysteria. "WHERE IS DAWN? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER? TELL ME!"
"Mr. Smith, please calm down,"
"NO! NO NO,"
His voice had risen, to some kind of an up roaring, squeaking, mess of emotions. He had to calm down, maybe she isn't dead. She couldn't be dead,
"I'm sorry," Johnny said, voice choked with tears.
"Please, where is Dawn?"
"It's understandable, Mr. Smith.. I'm sorry, but i'll give you the story as I know it. Dawn Edwards was in a vehicle with two other women, and another was on the wrong side of the road -- another woman, fumbling with her purse or something, as we understand. The vehicle with Dawn Edwards, Rosalie Young, and the other girl is unidentified, collided head on with the other vehicle. The drivers died instantly, but the other girls -- well, they died from massive burns, and smoke in the lungs. I'm sorry, Mr. Smith.. I'm very sorry, to give you this news so late at night, but.. I'm afraid Miss Edwards has died. We'll need you to come down to the station and identify her remain--"
Johnny stopped listening. He pulled the phone slowly down from his ear to press it against his chest, until his knuckles were white. He clenched closed his jaw and tried to hold them back, but tears burst from his eyes and he sucked in a breath to try and keep from screaming. Johnny sobbed, a grown man, scarred terribly by his life full of misfortune. His life was just getting better.. She was making it better. He was going to propose to her. John thought of the way she held him at night, when he shot awake. The way she would kiss him, and rub his chest until he drifted off to sleep.. No.. This couldn't be. 
He had forgotten about the vision. It was too late. Dawn was dead.. Burned to death. Died, entrapped within an automobile as it burst into flames and claimed her from him. 
The phone slipped from his grip, dangling now by the chord with a gentle "Mr. Smith? Mr. Smith are you there? Hello?" repeating over and over from it. 
He didn't respond, only cried and lurched. His stomach rolled terribly around, round and round. It churned -- suddenly, he thought he was going to be sick. His head began to pound terribly, and still he refrained from screaming.
The girl is gone...
Johnny's knees grew weak, and his legs enfolded under him to bring him to his knees onto the floor with a loud, wooden thud. This being where he gripped his fists into his hair and cried, sobbed and hyperventilated. It took everything in him not to start ripping his hair from his own scalp. Eventually he fell to his side limply, but he wept into his hands until he felt he had no more tears left, leaving him just to heave painfully and whimper. 
Dawn was dead. Johnny was alive. He was alone.