Beginning

Learn the fall and fate of Jessica, successful accountant. Listen to her slippery slope!

Jessica Smith was an accountant, and a really good one at that. She worked at the major Corporation United Nerto, which was responsible for distributing media, as well as many commercial devices across America. Her office was on the sixth floor. It was not her only office, but ever since her promotion by Thomas Gutter. Her first office was down what hall in room number sixty-one. This office number was sixty-six.

The clock on her cluttered guest read “8:45”. Bing! “Damn you!” she swore at the computer in irritation. She fixed her glasses and read the email.

Dear Jessica,

It is me Allen? You remember from that party last saturday night? Well anyway, I was wondering if you want to come over at my house later this evening? Sarah will be there, I know how fond you are of her. 367 Marine Boulevard. Don’t forget about the package.”

Sincerely

Alan Tremtil

“Of course this would happen at this time wouldn’t it!” She spoke to herself in frustration. She looked at the clock. 8:45. Her wife Alexandria was due to pick her up by 9:00pm. She looked out her window, as she put her hand on her chest in irritation. She loved her wife, very dearly but somehow, she was always left unsatisfied...that is until she met Sarah. It was her first affair of countless, and Alexandria was unaware of all of them.

She picked up her smartphone, placing her fingers on the screen, she methodically scrolled through her contacts and hit her wife’s number. It dialed.

“Hi sweetie!” she heard her soft and overly elated voice through the phone. “How was work today? Are you ready?”

She opened the drawer, pulled out a tissue from the tissue box and began wiping the tears from her face softly as she began to cry. “It is so hard hunny. Really it is. I just got one final report to do...a rather complicated one. I’m going to be late tonight. I’ll call a cab.”

“Don’t cry.” Alexandria called over the phone. “Well, the bed is all made for you. I have your dinner here, it is waiting for you. Bye bye hun. Kisses.” Her wife made kissing noises through the phone. She returned the gesture as she continued to cry.

She went to the mouse of her computer, and clicked reply. She sloppily typed

Come pick me up. 562 main street.

The email sent. Bing! Bing! The notification went off. One of the emails was the response to hers.

Be there just after 9.

She didn’t respond to that email. All she needed or wanted to know was in the email. She didn’t need to further a response on such a casual friendship...or relationship, whichever one decides to call it. She opened the other email. It was from her doctor. Dr. Davis.

Jessica, this is your reminder for the weekend. You have your check up Monday. 9am. Do not be late. It is...imperative that you be here on time.

She closed the email. She let out a sigh before fixing her glasses that hung on her face, her red hair was. She finished filing a report on the computer, emailed it to Thomas Gutter. “That nightmare is over. Now...to willingly enter the next one.”

She put on her jacket, to prepare for the winter breath outside. She took the elevator and beheld a man in the corner. He had long dark hair, and she could see calluses on his fingertips. At first she didn’t recognize the man.

“Jessica? Jessica it is you! Wow! What has it been, like fifteen years?” the man replied. He reached for her hand, and kissed it in a chivalrous way.

“Excuse me...John? John Sanderson?” she replied. It was her former high school sweetheart, many years ago. They broke up peacefully but never saw each other again after graduating...until now. “What have you been doing with yourself? It has been awhile? Perhaps we can grab coffee sometime, catch up. I am really interested in knowing what’s been happening with you?”

“Monday I am at a concert, we could grab some coffee after the show?”

“What about before the show?”

“Can’t. I’m in the show.”

“Really?” she replied, showing such great intrigue.

“Yes. I’m one of the guitarists, and vocalists.” he answered, “So I really wouldn’t be able to do anything before the show.” He stuck his hand in his pocket. “I was going to give this to my brother, but he has an issue he has to resolve first. Hell is a funny business.” He handed her a piece of paper. It was a ticket which read “Evangelion, Symphonic metal. Opening act. “That will let you get as close as the mosh pit if you desire.”

“And is it located at the rock place at the center of town?”

“Yes.”

The elevator door opened. They both stepped outside the elevator, and into the city street. The street was lightly dimmed with. It was not the greatest part of Boston, but still was lit, by the decaying light of the lamps that need to be replaced a little too often. She looked at her watch. 8:59. Almost time.

The two hugged each other before turning away to go separate directions. There was another man, his coat torn in many places. He had a very unpleasantly ungroomed beard. It was graying in many places.

“Can you spare a coin?” he asked in minute desperation. “Please?”

John did nothing but watched Jessica. He eyed her, as if waiting for her to make a right or wrong decision, since much of her life was made with wrong and right decisions. It was her story, and anyone who knew it like John did, could predict what she would do next.

She pushed the homeless man away from her. “Get away from me you pig!” She demanded, as if the homeless man had any right begging from a successful accountant! What right did he have to touch her? None.

John sighed and reached inside his pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper. Jessica would not guess what it was, except that it had the imprint of Grant on it. She had forgotten what a dollar bill looked like, since all she used were credit cards. She was too successful to be seen using such an inferior form of currency.

John waved good bye one last time before he disappeared down a side road. A dark car road before her, the radio was playing mixed music of some sort. The window rolled down, and there was a man, his blond hair and blue eyes spoke to her. It was tempting not to go over there and touch his aryan face. The window behind him opened, and it was Sarah with her flaming dyed hair. She winked at her, and turned her hand over the edge of the window, ushering her forth. She went to the car. Alan kissed her. “Get in.”

“Get in gal!” Sarah laughed behind the seat. “Time’s a wastin’!”

She stepped on the other side of the car, opened the passenger door and stepped inside. She looked out the window as the car drove off down the street.

“So I see you’ve still got that ring on.” Sarah commented, taking her hand with the ring and poked it. She licked it, as if to corrupt the very meaning of marriage. She already did, at least in Jessica’s life. Jessica took the hand away from the girl...she was much younger than she was. Much.

The car drove towards the next city, into an apartment complex. Allen shut the car off. The three individuals stepped outside, locking the door of the car as it was parked on the side of the street with one lone city light lit. Jessica thought she saw a shadow underneath the light, but it amounted to nothing.

They went into the house, and to the most important, and most used room in the house, which smelled of it. The bed was messy from earlier activity, and Allen went into the kitchen. “Ready to get started?” Sarah said all too happily for Jessica’s comfort.

She nodded, and reached for Sarah’s cheeks to pull her close to her. Sarah stopped her, and put her hand in front of her, tilting her finger back and forth, back and forth like the father clock upside down. “You gotta be a good girl first!” She said.

Alan came in, carrying a bottle of whisky, pouring them into three glasses. Jessica took the first sip, well to call it a sip would be putting it rather nicely, and this is not a nice place. She downed the entire glass! Allen poured another, which she proceeded to sip again.

“You know I’m not old enough to drink right?” Sarah said.

Jessica spat out the whisky.

“It is quite alright. We’ve already broken enough laws here, one more won’t make much difference.” Alan replied. “I mean, Jessica is just as guilty here.”

“I can’t do this.” Jessica got right up.

“Well, that is fine, you can just watch we don’t care. It would just be more fun if you enjoyed it with us.” Alan replied. “Besides, we will start with or without you, and I am your only ride here. It is a predicament...don’t you think?”

“Just do it. No one will say anything.” Sarah replied, her sinister voice returned to a calm and caring tone.

“Fine. I can’t say no now.”

“That is the spirit Jess!” Sarah kissed her cheek.

“Did you bring the package?” Allen asked.

“I...I forgot.” she said bowing her head down.

“Wait…” Sarah went over to her purse. “I used this one earlier, but you can use this one.”

Jessica held the object in front of her. She looked at it in disgust. “This is_”

“It is either that or...you can just watch I guess.”

“Fine.” She replied as Sarah closed the door.

Jessica was in the cab, driving all the way from Allen’s to her own house, which she helped buy with Alexandria. It was a nice house, in a rather modest neighborhood. It had two floors, and on the first floor, in that greenhouse, was her kitchen. She went to the table, and there her dinner was. It was chicken alfredo. It was always good when her wife made is especially for her. She reheated it up in the microwave, and ate.

She walked upstairs, holding on to the railing as she couldn’t walk straight. She managed to get to her room, walked to her brown, elegantly sanded wardrobe, and pulled out a white towel, her sky blue pajamas and walked outside into the hallway.

“Dearest?” Alexandria said, awakening from her slumber. She wiped her eyes with sleep, and her black hair messily fell to her pillow as she propped herself up on her elbows. “What kept you so long?”

“It was a request full of many complications.” She answered, silently shutting the door. She went to the bathroom, and washed herself from the defilement she brought upon herself. She wept in the shower, knowing what she had done, and it was wrong on several accounts, more so than she initially realized. She betrayed the trust of her wife, and she would hope it would be the last time.

She finished her shower, stepping outside and rapidly put on her pajamas. She hung the towel up before leaving the bathroom, and returning to the master bedroom with her wife, not so beloved. She snuggled with her wife, as they would spend the next few days alone with one another. She embraced a kiss from her wife, but the kiss she returned was not the kiss of a beloved, but the kiss from one of disgrace. She shamed herself this night, and many nights before like it. She held her tightly throughout the night as she slept silently.

The morning came. Jessica was tired, and the clock read 10:00 that hung on the wall. She got up from the empty bed. She noticed that Alexandria was downstairs, cooking some food. It was their breakfast, eggs, bacon...the smell of bacon permeated the room, and the house thereafter.

“I thought...we might go to the coffee shop today.” Alexandria said, smiling at her as she dropped her plate in front of her. She looked down at it as she broke off a piece of burnt bacon. She knew that is how she likes it. “Go get your favorite flavored coffee! Hot chocolate!”

“Yes...my dear.” she said, trying to sound business casual with her wife, no reason why. Her social awkwardness spoke volumes within itself. “I would enjoy that very much.”

Alexandria finished her breakfast shortly after, and the two of them dressed for an outing. Of course, Alexandria had to physically dress her wife because she was always compelled to dress in a business skirt.

Alexandria wore a plaid skirt, and a green hat. She dressed her wife up in a jeans and a plaid top. It was a very interesting outfit indeed, but the only one with any sense of fashion outside business was Alexandria. Jessica had no idea what was acceptable, what wasn’t on a day to day outing.

Alexandria and Jessica left the house, entering the black car that Alexandria drove, and started driving down the streets, heading into Boston. They arrived at the commons, and there it was, a very small coffee place, but always very packed, especially on Saturdays. They went in, got their coffee, and left. They walked down the sidewalks, and into the historic section of Boston, traveling by way of the red footprints on the sidewalks.

“I know Accounting can be difficult hun, but you have to keep through it. Soon it will be under you, and you can start going into the corporate workforce. It will be much better.” Alexandria said to her wife, kissing her.

They crossed the train station near the halls, and there were men and women handing out flyers. All of these individuals were very finely dressed. One of them held copy of a bible, and was preaching about Hell. “My brothers! My sisters listen to me! The end is near, America is not what it once was! I have prayed for each and every one of you! I love you, but I cannot accept this result!” he yelled. Some people were listening, while others seemed to ignore him. Those that were listening were the fellows handing out the flyers, others seemed to take his words, nodding in agreement. Others snarled at him with inflamed eyes.

“Why does this happen?” Alexandria replied. She took one step towards the man as she handed her cup to Jessica.

“This is not going to be good.” She looked down at Quincy market, which was clearly visible from atop the staircase leading to the street. She noticed a large group of people exiting the bars and local restaraunts below, approaching the man with the flyers. She looked with great uncertainty, especially after a face popped out from the crowd; it was John, and on his back was an acoustic guitar. He walked through the crowd, towards the man, at the same pace, and seemingly with the same purpose as her wife. He would understand, and would tell the man that his actions are inappropriate in public, however, Alexandria reached the man first.

She pulled the flyer out of the man’s hand, and he returned with a bible. She ripped that out of his hand as well, taking a lighter, setting the scripture as was commonly believed to be God’s law and she burned it. “Religion lost! Get the hell over it! You cretin!” She pushed him. The enraged woman went to the stands, where most of the flyers and semi religious books were kept, and she pulled tipped them over. She was no friend of religious bigots.

“What gives you the right to tell us what is right and what is wrong?” She said, pointing her stern finger at the chest of the man who was preaching. “What gives you the right to tell us we are going to Hell, that a loving God can mercilessly send us away into that wretched place? If he is so loving...you expect anyone to believe that crap?”

“He_”

“He what? What does he do preacher? Care to elaborate on why that other preacher decided to light himself on fire? Because he is a little boy in a big world who can’t accept losing. Why don’t you torch yourself like he did himself.”

“What seems to be the problem here?” John replied. Jessica hurried to them, as all eyes were gazing on them all.

“This idiot here is pushing his religion here, like everyone needs to know it. No one needs to know it, like anyone in the God forsaken churches follow or listen to anything they are being preached to anyway!” she said.

“Well he is standing up for what he believes in. He is saying things he feels needs to be said. Would you deny him his right to the first amendment, both religion and speech? Would you deny him that?” he replied. The eyes and ears of the people were trained very carefully on the dialogue. The preacher remained silent, though he did find time now, to weep over the Bible’s ashes.

“Yes, I would. Freedom of speech, not freedom to be an idiot! He is being an idiot and not choosing his words carefully in front of an audience? He clearly does not pay attention that those around him would sooner see him burned than listen to the foul words he speaks!” she answered.

Jessica looked closely at her wife. Very rarely does she see her this angry, and it is usually over the concept of religion….Christianity in particular.

“Well, one could say the same thing about you. You are not choosing your words carefully, nor are you paying attention that there are people here who would gladly burn with this man, since there is in afterlife in their eyes.”

Alexandria pointed her finger at him, who didn’t mind it. “What say you about this subject? Are you a believer? Are you open about your mind?”

“Yes, for I have seen many things that would shake your reality.” he answered. “Now, why don’t you be civilized and return to your wife, and finish your coffee.”

He turned to the street, and started walking towards the train station.

“Who does he think he is?” Alexandria said with anger, and turned to her wife to kiss her.

“Oh, and one more thing.” John began. Alexandria and Jessica turned to him, Jessica, now more opened to the words he spoke. “Should you feel the need to usher in your...sense of superiority as it is, and will become in this country...be the bigger person, and apologize to the man before you.” Alexandria looked to the man who wept, and spat on the ashes. Then she looked away. “Jessica,  I hope we are still going out for coffee on Monday. Feel free to bring your wife.”

“Thank you.” Alexandria looked at Jessica with a jealous rage.

“Stay away from my wife!” Alexandria yelled at him as he disappeared into the train station.

“We can still get you a ticket dear.” Jessica offered.

“No, you are not going!” She said to her. “We are leaving.”

The married couple left, ignoring the eyes that tried to figure them out. Why they happened to be there, why they acted in the manner they did, or mainly Alexandria who created the scene before them, and the masses, on all sides of the political pie questioned everything they thought, not because of the scene, but because of John, who spoke with wisdom, and great patience, it astonished everyone.

Alexandria and Jessica were in the car, driving home. They, or rather Alexandria stopped by a liquor store, taking out a twelve case of beer, and a bottle of merlot, and began driving yet again. Spending much of the day talking, while being stuck in the traffic jam, much of it was to get the events out of Alexandria’s mind, who was not upset, nor did she view her actions as inherently wrong, which Jessica did.

The car was parked in their dimly lit driveway, there was no enough light or energy forced into those lights, hence why they kept it dim. They walked into the kitchen, and immediately, Alexandria chugged a beer can and crushed it. “Oh stupid Christian boy, when won’t you realize that you are in a false reality, one that is on its way out. You know it…” She opened another can.

“Alexandria?” Jessica asked.

Her wife slapped her across her face, and then pulled her close. “Where did you meet that man? He is dangerous to what we have here.”

“He used to be my childhood hunny. We grew very different and we separated.” she answered, weeping, and rubbed her cheek.

“Yeah, he likes you still I can tell. Stay away from him. He will try to seduce you, just as I did at that event hunny. He is dangerous, he wants to rip you away from me.” Alexandria warned.

“I am going to that concert.” she said in defiance. This ticket was not originally meant for me. He is a good person. He won’t try anything.”

“All Christians are all the same. He will try to tell you those lies about God and then have you begging for his attention, then before you know it, you will be trying to file for a divorce which I won’t allow!” She slammed her fist against the counter. “You belong to me! Not some God they claim exists! Not him! You are mine!”

“I know th_”

“Do you?” Alexandria replied, greatly irritated.

“Yes.”

“Repeat after me, my wife!” She said, waving her finger back and forth to her. “I will not go to that concert. I will not take coffee with him after the show.”

“I...I will not repeat. I will go to that concert, it would be good to support local tal_”

Alexandria didn’t let her finish her sentence. It was clear she was drunk. She certainly shouldn’t have drank that first beer nearly as fast as she did. She grabbed her hair, forcefully pulling her to the sink. Her glasses fell off her face, and she was given a monkey bath as the sink was running with hot water. She screamed and started waving her arms in an attempt to get free from her abusive wife.

“You will not go to that concert!” she said, hoping to instill fear of greater consequences. One would think she would obey her will at this point, but she still refused her wife. “This is the truth! He will steal you from me! I will not let you go!”

“‘All things are subject to interpretation’” Jessica quoted the famous german philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche. “‘And whichever interpretation is a function of power; not truth.”

She said this amid being underneath hot water. There was something about John she was drawn to, but something she could not pinpoint, and she was determined to find out what that is.

“Fine. Fine. But do not say I warned you these things would happen my dear!” She pulled her away from the sink, sending her flying into the countertop. She cried as she could hear her wife stomping up the stairs.

“John...I hope this coffee tastes really good. You wedged something between my marriage.” She wept, putting ice on her face. It stung, but then the best medicines always did.

Sunday came by. Jessica made herself breakfast, avoiding a steaming mad Alexandria, who often glared at her this particular morning. They were never really good at expressing feelings with one another, especially with the brutish Alexandria.

The wives did not express words with one another in the morning. Alexandria left the morning to run. Jessica sighed after her wife left, and continued to eat. She got dressed in her usual attire, her work clothes before going for a walk. She decided that it was best to get some rest before tomorrow. She would need the additional energy, oh yes, she will indeed.

Indeed it was Monday. Jessica woke up with a rude awakening. Her wife opened up the curtains to let the sunlight in, from the cold outside. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, and turned over away from the light.

“Get up Jessica.” Alexandria said to her. “You are running late for your appointment.”

“D****t.” she swore, jumping out of her bed. She looked at the clock, 8:15. She hastily undressed her pajamas as Alexandria tossed her a plain shirt and khakis.

“Wear those. It's fine.” Alexandria sighed, seeming in a better mood. She pulled her keys out. “Don’t waste money on a cab that won’t get there in time. Take my car.”

Jessica had finished getting dressed, skipped her shower. She rushed out the door with her pocket book, pushed in the clicker to unlock the car doors. She opened the door, sat right in, and started the car. She started driving and her mind went into the email she received on friday night, the one from Doctor Davis.

There was a pause in the sentence, It is...imperative. What could that mean. Was he searching for words to say but couldn’t. Is something wrong? something phenomenal perhaps? Needless to say, she was very anxious with her visit.

She reached the center of Boston, towards the hospital. Traffic was backed up. “Damn it.” The highway was busy on both sides of her since she was in the middle lane. The hospital parking lot was not more than a mile from her current location, but it seems it would take too long. She looked at the clock, and it was 8:50. “There is no way I am going to make it on time.” She pulled out her cellular phone, and scrolled through it, touching the hospital’s office number. It rang.

“Dr. Davis’ office. How can I help you?” said the woman’s voice on the other line.

“Yes, I have an appointment. A checkup with Dr. Davis at nine o’clock. I’m running a little late.”

“I’ll let_”

“Is that Jessica?” she could hear the voice over the phone. “It is fine Jessica it is. The important thing is that you get here.”

The phone hung up. She let out a nice sigh of relief as she found herself merging into the right lane. She put the phone in her pocket book. She drove into the parking garage, picked up her ticket and ran(despite the verbal warning that the important thing to her is that she got there) through the halls, dodging men, women, and children, clerks, janitors, security guards, and nurses. She took the elevator in the blue building up to the seventh floor. She stepped out of the elevator.

The receptionist looked at her, and then the analogue clock on the wall, reading 8:59. Jessica could see the doctor in with another patient. “Jennifer, send her into the white office immediately.”  Jennifer was the receptionist. She put some sheets of paper rather quickly on a clipboard and turned to Jessica.

“Follow me please.” Jessica followed her into a room. It was a room she was not used to being inside. The other rooms she had been in had pictures of Einstein, quoting all of his theories and equations, while another room, much darker had quotes from the famous Friedrich Nietzsche, one such quote which she often heard Alexandria quote from time to time. “God is dead”.

This room was white. On one wall, it was reserved for several galaxies, solar systems, and the course of life, from birth to death of a star. The second wall, had nothing on it, but a lone cross. The third wall, had a picture.

This picture painted a scene she rarely heard about. It was Jesus on the cross. To his right, was a thief on a black cross, and on his left was a thief on a white cross. The thief on the black cross had the devil right above him, holding strings like he was a puppeteer. The thief on the left, and Jesus had a white halo. Just below them, was the crowd, cheering on the execution as the three were nailed above them, slowly dying painful deaths. In that crowd was Pontius Pilate, the leaders of synagogues, as well as the common folk. All of them wore clothes of fire. and below them was a horrific sight, as if something drawn by Gustave Dore himself.

The overly excessively detailed drawing was of countless numbers of naked bodies being swirled in a vortex. Before this vortex was an impressively long line of people, being whipped by demons in chains with barbs, their blood creating the river on which they were to bath.

Below this picture...was a caption seemed like it was speaking directly to her. “The penalty for all sin...is death” Dr. Davis was a man of science, who adored and borderline worshipped it. He went to school after getting his Ph.D to study science, for the joy of learning and knowing about all sciences, why would he have a room dedicated to...religion?

Dr. Davis walks in, he does not have a look of happiness, but grim was written very clearly upon his face. “Jessica…” his voice trailed off.

“Yes, Dr. Davis.” She said, admiring the artwork of the poster still. “May I ask why you have a room to dedicate to science and religion...when all of your other rooms are dedicated to the wonders of the world and science?”

“You see Jessica, only a handful of my patients get to see the inside of this room.” He replied, going to his computer. He pulled something up, and printed out a sheet. He handed it to her, and she looked at it. She was looking at numbers of Antibodies, and looked up to her doctor in confusion.

“What does this mean?” she asked.

“Your antibody count has gone down Jessica. It is clear, and though I am not the one to say this...do you trust my judgment?” he asked.

“Yes Davis, I do.” she said, putting her hand in her mouth.

“You have Human Immunodeficiency Virus.” he replied.

“What...that can’t be!” She said in disbelief. “Wha...how?”

“Do you have multiple sex partners?” he asked. “If yes, were you using protection?”

“Most of the time…” she said, bowing her head in shame.

“That certainly isn’t enough. That is probably why.” He said, going back to his computer. He printed out a prescription. Here, you need to go to the pharmacy, get this today! If you fail to do so...your life expectancy will be short indeed. You are registered now, so if you plan on...engaging in such activity again you must inform your partners. This includes your wife.”

“I...I can’t.” she replied.

“Then you can’t legally engage in that activity. I have done my duty here and...do you need a hand?” he asked.

“This can’t be happening!” she cried, sobbing over the medical bed.

“There there.” he said to her, patting her on the back. “All things happen, and unfortunately ma’am, you are in for a world of pain to follow, that is certain. However...it is not too late.” He left the room before she could say anything.

She left the hospital, crying. She skipped the pharmacy and drove home. She parked the door in the front, and didn’t bother locking it. She went into her house and found a cooked meal for her on the counter. It was wrapped in tin foil with a sticky note on it, with elegant writing, as if someone spent a whole year to carve out a few simple words, “Jessica, This is for you. I hope all goes well and I’m sorry. I love you. Call me when you get home.”

Jessica cried before unwrapping hr meal. She scraped it on a cookie sheet and tossed it in the oven as she cried. She put the time on for seven minutes. It would take some time for it too cook as she pulled out her phone and called her wife.

“Jessica! How did your appointment go?” she asked into the phone. “Where was that...concert again?”

“It was...the rock club in the center of town.” She sobbed into the phone uncontrollably.

“Dear, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m...dying.” She replied. “I have HIV.”

There was silence on the other side of the phone, not complete silence...but devoid of all else but heavily paced breaths. The moments of talkless airtime passed by every so slowly, as if the snail and slug were moving faster than time.

“That cannot be right. If you take care of yourself...that...that should be impossible to get.” Alexandria said over the phone. “What did you do...why haven’t you been telling me anything...no. Don’t answer that. Now is not the time. Eat your lunch, and come into Boston, get ready for that concert you are going to. It will be fine.”

“But...but what I did_” she began to confess her sins of unloyalty.

“Don’t tell me that now. You just received bad news, and you need time to cool off. Okay? You can tell me tomorrow...or the next day...Hell. I don’t even care right now if you wait until Saturday or Friday night to tell me. Just… come into Boston when you are done with your food. I’ll meet you at the doors.” Alexandria said into the phone.

“Okay.” The sobbing became more regular, and less frantic. The alarm went off. She shut off the oven, put on the oven mitts, pulling out her lunch. She ate, and showered, still weeping for her inevitable fate that to come to her, a slow death.

The city of Boston was well lit that night. People migrated, and much more people that Jessica expected populated the city streets, which was guided by several of Boston’s Finests that night. Not that it would be expected anyhow. She saw many people wearing black shirts, many jeans.

She noticed one thing about all of the people going into the rock club, they were all extremely happy, and social. They met random people on the streets, and did not hesitate to fill the homeless’ cup with not just coins, but whole dollar bills; not just one but fives, tens, and even twenties! Twenties! How generous were they...or did they know something that she didn’t.

Jessica remembered Friday night, with the homeless man. John was going to give the man money regardless of what she did; he only held back from doing so to see what she would do. He was watching very carefully, and then recalled what he gave that man; a fifty dollar bill. Even she would think twice before spending that kind of money at once...not that in the long run that she would miss it, but doing it all at once could lead to money problems she didn’t want...or perhaps that she dealt with money so often she grew fond of it...yes that was it. She was greedy.

“Jessica!” She looked up from the sidewalk to hear her wife. She rushed to the crowd to get to her. She knew Alexandria wasn’t going to go into an unknown concert without her, and her...mood had greatly changed since the previous night. the two hugged each other and kissed. One of the concert goers noticed and smiled.

Jessica could hear one of the the faint voice of someone speaking. She looked to them, and it appeared to be a few women in their twenties, nicely dressed wearing a full...but modest. They appeared to being going out to some bar across the street, a bar she recognized too often. She had once been there, started going there when Alexandria was no longer satisfying her. The smell was of large amounts of sweat, spilled beer, and no small amounts of grunts, moans and screams. One woman, was wearing a white...partially revealing dress, and a crucifix on her chest, as it hung from a gold chain. She said, “How dare you enter that place you Satan worshippers! God would smite you! He does not approve of that music! It is so vile and so vulgar! How can you call yourselves Human you imbeciles! You will be seen burning in Hell in the next life!”

She and her wife looked carefully, though they had no love for God...any God nor did they seemingly care for people who believed in it, even to them, this accusation seemed cruel...but were they really with a bunch of Devil Worshippers? Maybe...but then again, maybe not.

A man came out from the crowd, and looked very briefly at the woman who sent her accusations. His attire was much like everyone else’s. “And what do you call that?” Her friend ushered her into the bar. It was clear that even he knew what it was. You call yourself a christian, yet you are going inside this bar, to engage in activities much more than drinking. You go around wearing a mask, fooling those in churches and above all...yourself. You are the biggest enemy of the Lord, and you who go around accusing us are condemning yourself to a fate you judged unto us.” He pulled the cross from her neck, breaking the chain, and putting it in his pocket. “Now...before you go around preaching the word of God,” this he said rather sarcastically. “Why do you not take the time to pull the plank from your eye, so that you can see what is being done to you, and by you. Now go into that bar, and become the person you want to be with no desires besides the animalistic instinct. That is the American way, it is your way.”

The woman slapped the man across the face who took the hit with great pride, and merely smiled as the door into the bar closed behind.

“Are you sure you still want to go in Dear?” Alexandria asked.

“We have no choice now. I want to go inside this concert, and see what John has had in store for me since he invited me.” she answered.

The walked in with the crowd, and there it was, she and her wife handed her the tickets, and they were ushered towards the center of stage. The stage was lit like emerald’s and she could see the instruments already set up for the opening act, Evangelion. There were two guitars, both electric, and both had seven strings. There also a bass next to them. Behind them was a rather complex drum set. Towards the side, she beheld flutes, trumpets, French Horns, violins, and Cellos.

The cries, the claps were deafening that Jessica needed to cover her ears. “Ah...A metal concert.” Alexandria acknowledged. “I hate metal.”

“I love it!” said another person.

“It has no structure.”

“Not entirely true.” the man replied. “Yes, they don’t follow a traditional chorus, verse chorus, bridge and so on, but musically it can be very pleasing to listen to.  Especially the groups playing right after Evangelion!”

“Why is that?” Jessica asked, observing the people entering the stage. She first noticed the drummer, his hair was flaming red, not dyed...all natural. The bassist wore a dark, long sleeved shirts, where he hid many scars. One guitarist rose his hands in the air to announce his appearance. This Guitarist was not John. Many other musicians rose from beneath a trapdoor, coming from underneath the stage. Each one picking up an individual instrument, the woodwinds and the brasses, and the strings all took various positions on the stage, away from one another.

Another person, a woman with dark hair took the stage, and took hold of one of the microphones. “Hello, and welcome to Boston on such a beautiful Monday night!” Her voice was very melodic. “Please forgive the delay, our other guitarist had bad sushi last night! He will be out momentarily.” She looked at the crowd as it was filled with laughter. “Now I see some new faces, and those of you...it may be your first time listening. I am Mary, The guitarist over there is Matthew, The bassist is Mark, the drummer is Luke, and John will be up shortly.”

“That feels much better!” John came up from the trap door, and strapped on his Guitar. His hair was let down, and rather messy. “I thought it would be very appropriate to start with Freedom Betrayed. I think it is rather appropriate given certain circumstances.”

“That is a good one to start with.” she answered. “Didn’t you get into a verbal fight over that concept the other day?”

“Indeed I did.” He said.

And it began.

Jessica could hear the light guitars, and the bass being played with the woodwinds and other orchestral instruments. It seemed to start off sounding very celtic, and then turned into what one would associate battle music with. She could hear something...it started with a recording. It was the president and his speech in the past about Gay Marriage equality. She liked that speech very much, it allowed many people to get married, and she liked it.

The orchestra calmed down, and soothed back to a celtic melodic noise, where the choir appeared to be singing,

The fight for equality is won

Trial and Turmoil ceased

We have won this fight

Hodie sit mors eorum religio

Veritas et Potestas collide

Coepit bellum civile

The choir was very beautiful but they sung with sad voices. Jessica wept. The orchestra went into some silence, and John approached his microphone, “All thingsss are sssubject to interpretation, and the interpretation that prevailsss is a function of power, not trrruth.”

The traditional metal instruments began to play, but the strings of their orchestra were not silent, as they provided a very full sound in addition to the guitars, bass, and drums. Mary began to sing. Her voice was very happy,

The rights are here to stay

Discrimination has no way

Love wins

Behold our great victory

The turn of fate is done

The supremacy is over

Love wins. Indeed it did win that day. But still, it seemed to Jessica that this song was not going to end on a happy thought, nor did metal songs ever appear happy. She knew a contrast was soon to come, as the strumming of the guitars and bass grew faster in tempo, and much louder. She could not hear the orchestra in the background, but she could tell they were still playing. John did not sing into the microphone. His voice was distorted by a technique few have mastered correctly. He was able to manipulate his voice into a low growl and a high pitched scream as he spoke,

Our rights are dismantled

Discrimination begins

Behold the grand demise

Hate Prevails

What you want is not all good

Can you not see the lies you spread

The sound of his voice was unpleasing to listen to but the words he spoke, spoke loudly. Jessica looked to her wife to find her shaking, and looking back and forth. She was afraid of the music, as they were listening to the dialogue of music. That is what it was, it was not the typical pop song one would listen to on the radio following the format of verse, chorus, repeat and so on. The choir sang again:

Infernum Tibi

Valedicere omnia

Vos obliviscar omnes bona

Vestri carorum obliviscar tui

This choir sung deep, even the altos and sopranos sung under the Bass Clef. It was sad indeed, and though she knew not Latin, she could understand well enough that those words couldn’t possibly mean anything good. The singer came again, and this time, her voice was not melodic, but in between hostility and warmth. The instruments followed the music as before, following this part of the song:

Get out of my way

Stay away from my truth

It is love;

You cannot deny

What do you know

What could you possibly know fool

Almost immediately the growling continued, and towards the end of every line, John contributed a high pitched scream. Jessica looked to her wife as Alexandria clutched onto her arm very firmly. She was not going to let go any time soon. This music frightened her. She was forced to listen as the music was much too loud for anything to block it out.

You are in your own way

Your truth, veiled in your lies

You’re deceived!

I see it, what it is

Be prepared for the consequences!

OURS!

The length of the scream from that final line seemed to go on forever and ever. It seemed to her like an eternity passed before the next brief period of vocal silence. The orchestra was playing, and the choir came in again:

Infernum excipit vos

Quid faciam ut hic

Tu animam malam

Non pluris sumus quam Hitler

The guitars seemed to change in rhythm and tones. It appeared to go into a heavier part of the song, which means...the answer to the question and the final theme of the song would be revealed. John screamed as if he was in great pain.

I want it!

Give her back!

Give back my rights!

Why are you silent!

Can you not see its manipulative hand?

Can you not see the lives you’ve fed?

Your lies, my truths

Your truths are my lies

Who will you listen to

The fight for supremacy is not over

It has just begun!

The shift in tolerance is not truth

It is balance of power!

The best medicine always hurts

Especially this betrayal of Freedom!

His voice was very powerful as it echoed into the room. She saw many listeners, which were praising the music, not just the instruments, but the vocal arrangements, and the lyrics, which were put together to create a dialogue between two people: Mary, represented the thoughts and feelings of the world around them. She represented what the people wanted to believe, which was not always truth.

She was digging the sound, but her poor wife was still frightened by it. The guitars were playing more chords than individual notes, creating a much more full and complete sound, as the truth became more apparent in his words. The truth...or a truth...a different perception which had its own truth sprinkled under or over something else...something she didn’t realize existed.

Mary began singing yet again, and this time, her voice was extreme. Her voice grew much louder, and there was no questioning the tone this time, it was clearly hostile, as if to call the other a liar, as if to defy his claims, to make him not credible.

We need to take control!

His lies are going to spread

Silence!

Behold its light must die

Our iron and cold breath blow

Until the candle of truth dies

There was no time for thoughts as John began:

Persecution begins

The lies like roaring fires

Right here

‘Mid this once great nation

Their Pride speaking for itself

Beware the return.

The guitars stopped playing. The woodwinds, the strings, and the brass began to play. The choir remained silent. The sound was much like post battle, as if there victory...yes that was the sound. The sound resonated as a victory blast of orchestral music, that could compare to nothing! Nothing and only nothing! The question was...who won the debate. America...or reason.

Jessica looked to the other listeners...men and women wept. Many women had their faces buried in a man’s chest. Whose side were they on? Was it a question of right or wrong? One thing she was aware of, was that everything relating to John left more unanswerable questions. She wanted to know more, as the song took another turn, though without the choir or May, or guitars as the music took a melodic approach. John’s growling was whispered, audible over the orchestra behind him:

Prepare the dark path

Torment and pain are here

The supremacy is shifted

Prepare ye children

for the darkest night

and darker days

reset and pray!

The crowd of people raised their hands up, and she saw something she would not have suspected. She saw crosses, and pocket bibles in the air. Why? This is a metal concert? Could everyone here be Christian? Are they here to judge_

She noticed John looking down at her. He snapped his fingers and the instruments stopped but something else played, a recording. It was a recording of little children reciting the pledge of allegiance, “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under__” The sound the drum kicked back in, making it sound like a Gunshot, right before the word God could be used. The sound of the drum was like a gunshot...a series of gunshots as if to kill everyone in the room that dared mention God.

All of the Bibles being dropped to the ground at the sound of it. Great cries of agony and great pain could be heard as a result. The only one not in pain was Jessica, who was confused, and her wife, who was afraid. Alexandria shook even greater than before, but even she wept, though she could not tell why.

She looked up to John as the song stopped. She glanced at the time, and it was later. She did not realize how long that song was. Much longer than any other song she was used to, and with such extreme content, no way the radio would allow the length of a fifteen minute song!

More songs continued to play for the next hour. Another band, similar to Evangelion came on after. It was Epica, another similar band, but from another country, and much more known. Jessica didn’t care to listen to it again, not with conflicting messages and so on. She slowly lead her wife through the crowd as it began to fill up even more. It took some time, but there was very little time as Mark Jansen introduced the song as The Divine Conspiracy!

She panted as she managed to push Alexandria out of the concert hall, and she followed her. The door slammed, and she found it tempting to go into the bar across the street for a drink...no she can’t. That would be an extremely bad idea.

“Oh Jessica!!!” she heard Sarah’s voice call.

Damnit damnit damnit damn you! she thought to herself. Sarah was at the door to the bar across the street with that twinkle in her eye. She felt compelled to go there...but she must wait for John.

“Come in let’s have some fun Jessica. I know you’ve missed me!” she laughed her little innocent but guilty laugh of hers.

“I need...I need a drink.” Alexandria said, overwhelmingly. “A bar sounds good.”

“No no no! We need to see John before anything else!” Jessica was committed...but that bar...that drink, and to hold Sarah’s body in her hands sounded too good an opportunity to pass up all at once...all of that extra warmth from several people engaging and the same intimate act...but she can’t.

“Come on Jessica! You know you want_”

“Be gone!” came John’s voice. “Leave this happy couple alone and stop wedging a plank in between them! Begone you foul person, and may light shine on you in some way...some day...if it gets darker for you...it is of your doing!”

“I’m not driving a wedge!” Sarah yelled back. Alexandria fainted and hit the pavement. Jessica held her against her, just to get through the night of being overwhelmed by such powerfully true music. “She wants it badly. She desperately wants it.” Her voice seemed to change, and it turned Jessica off. She was no longer desiring the body...she wanted to stay away from it now, as Sarah started to sound like a Goblin. “She wants it. Let her have it, Christian! God will forgive her later. What is the big deal? She isn’t hurting anyone.”

“She hurt herself…” He whistled a high pitch whistle, and a policeman started walking over. “And her wife...How old are you?”

“Fifteen!” she cackled.

“What seems to be the problem?”  the officer replied.

“Well for starters, it is certainly a school night, and late at that. A fifteen year old shouldn’t be wandering the streets of Boston for two. And finally, said fifteen year old,” he pointed to Sarah. “Shouldn’t be getting into bars...and especially,” he said pointing to the bar in which he so despised. “That kind of bar!”

The officer went over to the girl to arrest her. She was carried kicking and screaming, “Damn you homophobic Christian! What right do you have to take this from me! I want it! I want it! I want it!” her cries turned to Jessica. “If you liked anything you had with me, you will free me! Set me free! Save me!” She cried, as she reached the patrol car. She saw that Jessica would do nothing, but looked away in shame. “Damn you, you w***e! I will see you in Hell!”

“Can we...Can we get that coffee now?” Jessica asked as Alexandria came to reality.

“Yes.”

The three walked down the street, under the city lights and into the small coffee shop. The three grabbed coffee, which John graciously paid for, and sat down.

“Well, what did you think?” he asked them all.

“I thought it was beautiful...but overwhelming.” Jessica commented.

“Why...why did you write that song? It was you was it not?” Alexandria asked.

“Because of marriage equality.” he answered. “You see, in the south, where I spent much of my time studying, there was an oath which many took. They set themselves on fire, killing themselves should Gay marriage became legal in all states through the Supreme Court. This ruling...is...unconstitutional, but it doesn’t matter. Many of my friends were killed, and died because of it, and though I had a song in mind during that time, I changed the overall theme of it to fit the times.” he answered, sipping his coffee.

“So you drew a conclusion from the needs of society because your friends died for nothing?” she answered. Jessica could feel the coldness from her response.

“Well I did put in that quote from the great philosopher to label that it was not truth but power that prevailed.” he answered.

“But the court decided it was based on gender. If Sarah loved John, and Joe loves John, but Sarah can marry John but Joe can’t. Clearly it is discrimination against Gender! It is obvious!” Alexandria sipped, thinking she quickly won a debate over coffee.

“But if Samantha loves Sarah, and John loves Sarah, and John can marry Sarah, but Samantha can’t...You see how that doesn’t apply to the topic?”

Alexandria was silent. She never thought about it. Jessica could clearly see that John was smart, wise, and thought frequently.

“But now many orphans will be adopted! More people can love each other without being judged!”  Alexandria replied.

“Did you need one supreme court decision for that, considering the average American views marriage as nothing more than a piece of paper that says you love each other?”

Again, there was silence.

“And...how does this matter? I do what I want...it means nothing to anyone else.” Alexandria replied. “I drink...I drive and am successful. What does it matter?”

“It matters. Does it matter what time of day? Nameless people die every year over drinking and driving.” John answered casually, sipping on his coffee. “Is there any other topic you wish to debate with me? I would accept.”

“Fine. You pick the topic you prick!” Alexandria sword at him.

Jessica paid little attention to the two as her eyes shifted towards many people walking in, looking very vibrant but with aged eyes on youthful faces. Why?

“I see Jessica, you have noticed the people inside this place. This is no ordinary coffee house.” he commented. “Many of them...have chosen a life of misery and torment...to a life of comfort but the difference is, when it comes time for a retirement, they have already invested in the best retirement anyone could possibly afford. It is so much better a retirement...than the most generous CEO would or could ever offer. No amount of love, wealth or fame can compare to what they will receive when the time comes.”

“You obviously know my opinion for I am pro-choice all day...everyday.” Alexandria replied, ignoring the observation of the faces...yet despite the experienced eyes, and turmoil they appeared very happy. Much more happy than Jessica could even imagine. Why? “Then answer me this guitarist, what is your opinion on abortion? Considering we live in a society now which is becoming pro choice very much so, and...what are your thoughts.”

“My dear lady, I trust you to make the right decision, but before I offer you an adventure you will not soon forget, I will humor your final rebuttal with Casey Anthony. The woman who was murdered by another loving mother for one should not without care take the life of another in general, let alone a helpless baby. Now you may ask, what do the two have in common...Abortion...and Casey Anthony...Everything. The only real difference between the abortion and Casey Anthony is the lack of a hospital, without consent of the doctor, or without his aid.” he replied grimly. He pointed to the line of people at the coffee stand. “You see those people?”

Alexandria turned to look. “Yes, what of them?”

“Well Jessica seemed to have noticed. Did you not see their eyes, the scars on their hearts, the wounds to their souls? As if it had been ripped apart? Do you not see great pain behind those eyes?” John said sadly.

“No.” she replied.

“Yes.” Jessica answered.

“Those...they were murderers, thieves, prostitutes, swindlers, rapists, abusers, molesters, dictator's, future dictators, pedophiles...the list of the crimes and types of crimes they all committed are endless.” he said.

“Why haven’t the police been notified!?” Alexandria pulled out her phone and dialed 911. There was no answer, nor was there a tone in the phone as she dialed. “What is this place?”

“It is a place of a sanctuary of a sort. Behold, there is a test. Do you wonder why these people appear happy? They could have said no to the retirement plan, and others did, oh those poor miserable souls.” John replied. He took out bottles, one red, and one green, setting them before him. He drank the last of his coffee. He turned to Jessica. “Is there something you would like to say to your wife..Jessica? I am offering you an adventure, where secrets do the most immediate and devastating damage!”

Jessica looked at her coffee, before taking one last sip. She didn’t want to have to tell her...not like this. She was forced...would it really do more harm than good? To tell her the string of lies, all of the truths behind staying late at work all of those times? Would she ever trust her again? Could she ever trust herself again as she was caught in the contagious addiction called lechery?

“I...I cannot do this right now.” she said, as her wife patted her back.

John looked disappointed. “Well, the truth will reveal itself later Jessica, and I offered you the chance to do it with some control over the circumstances, but after this next moment...I have no control over what will come of you...or the obstacles in your path.”

Reviews

[Krizito]

I've read lots of novel, bestsellers included. But I doubt if I've seen many structure their work in the style you chose. Somehow you've got description, action and dialogue in a great combination. None seems too much nor little, just enough to make an interesting story.

[Rafy T.Nym]

It's quite interesting and praiseworthy how you write so realistic story.Though,the subject is not entirely fit for me,I tried to read thoroughly.
Every detail is perfect for your story,but I missed reading about the appearance of the characters.If you include some more details of how they look,that will be better for readers like me who like to visualize the characters in their head.Religion has a great part in this storyline,it caught my attention.Nicely done!

[Armanis]

Appreciated. I did want to shy away from using too much detail on the characters for fear of excluding anyone. I did this intentionally to show that this can happen to anyone.
Given my thought above...do you think I should still include the characteristics of these characters?
And if so, is there a character you think I should focus on?

[Rafy T.Nym]

From my reading of the story,I think that John will play an important role in the future.So you can focus on him or add Jessica's feeling towards him,but not in the first chapter. I have also predicted the end of the story,but it's completely your decision to take.I'm expecting the unexpected. :-)

[Armanis]

Thanks. This is noted. Out of curiousity, how do you think this will end? And did you read the next chapter?

[Rafy T.Nym]

I didn't read the next chapter.Let me read the next one,then I'll let you know my thought about the ending.

[Armanis]

Ok thanks man

[Krizito]

I've read lots of novel, bestsellers included. But I doubt if I've seen many structure their work in the style you chose. Somehow you've got description, action and dialogue in a great combination. None seems too much nor little, just enough to make an interesting story.

[Armanis]

Please note, originally this was designed to be an epic poem, but i decided it best in a short story.