Chapter Six

Bronne checked the front door before retiring to his bed, unable to process the night's events. He'd just discovered Eva's secret, the one she shared with his best friend, and he was exhausted from the news. He eyed the sliding door and imagined the drop from his Chicago apartment once again, contemplating his survival rate and determined it was slim to none. Though he'd kicked his suicidal persona thoughts sometimes creeped up on him in stressful or overwhelming situations. This definitely qualified as one of those times.

 

As he laid in bed he imagined the wooden box tucked beneath his bed, burying all of his most treasured belongings from Eva's prying eyes. He pictured the tiny box that had once held her engagement ring but now was filled with unidentifiable pills he'd found throughout the apartment. The ring itself was hidden in a small safe he'd purchased a few months ago and kept in a storage unit he shared with Carlos. Most of the unit was cluttered with Carlos' belongings, but Bronne had a small area sanctioned off to himself. When he'd moved in with Eva he'd hid the ring there, cautious of her sneaky tendencies.

 

Bronne snaked his arm between the headboard and mattress and grazed the top of the box with his fingertips. His heart fluttered and he cursed the murmur he'd been diagnosed with when he'd been born. He hated the weakness that surrounded him when his heart palpitated uncontrollably, and quite frankly scared him. He stretched further until he was able to grab the edge of the box and pulled it onto his lap. Eying the door, he opened the latch and once again felt his heart thump against his chest.

 

"Damnit," he muttered, annoyed from the convenience of his murmur.

 

He touched the papers that rested on top and carefully pulled them out, spreading them on his bed. Bronne glanced at the carefully written headings of each and shook his head in aggravation - all meaningless titles that had never been finished. He sighed and fished the smaller box out of the bottom. When he lifted the lid he was surprised at the amount of pills he'd accumulated since moving in with Eva. He knew she had an addiction problem, but as he sat staring at the different colors and shapes of all the pills the intensity of it dawned on him.

 

The only one he recognized was a football shaped salmon colored one that seemed to fill the majority of the box. He knew it was for anxiety but he really had no idea what it was called, nor did he care. He just wanted the suicidal thoughts to stop and to get some sleep before having to face Eva. He picked two out and was about to close the lid when at the last second he chose another wide round one. That one he knew as a muscle relaxer, and he figured it wouldn't hurt.

 

Without water he tossed the three pills into his mouth and relaxed into the soft down comforter. He closed his eyes and waited for something to happen, though he wasn't sure what he was waiting for. After rolling around for a while he decided that he felt no different except that his heart rate had returned to normal so he turned the lamp back on. He reached for what he thought was a bottle of water but missed and instead grabbed a paper cutter. He blinked and once again grabbed for the water but when he looked at his hand saw he had a letter addressed to himself.

 

Before he could further inspect the letter he heard the door unlock and Eva walked in. She had a scarf pulled around her head and didn't say a word when she entered. Instead she looked around the room as if she didn't see him and muttered something in Spanish to someone in the hall. Another figure, very muscular in stature, joined her and removed his cloak. He too had his face covered in a scarf and also seemed to not see him, but Bronne recognized him as his best friend Carlos.

 

"What are you doing here?" Bronne tried to call out, but his voice stuck in his throat. He tried to clear it but was greeted only with a gurgling noise. They didn't even turn toward him.

 

"Eva what's going on here?" Once again his voice caught and a strange grumble reverberated from deep within his throat. What is happening to me?

 

Eva and Carlos walked toward the sliding door and let themselves onto the balcony, hand in hand. Bronne tried to get up but felt an invisible force holding him down. He looked down at the letter once again and had an overwhelming sense that it withheld the answer to this madness. He slid the paper cutter beneath the flap but instead of opening a stream of blood trickled from the opening. He gasped as he realized the blood was coming from the palm of his hand. Aghast, he tried to withdraw the letter from the envelope but was instead greeted with Eva's voice.

 

"He's a failure. He doesn't finish what he starts, unlike you." She giggled and Bronne saw as she pointed towards Carlos. Their faces were still covered but he could feel their presence, so dominant and eery that he felt as if he were on the balcony with him.

 

"That's why he got fired from that silly job at the newspaper you know. He couldn't even produce one solid article, and he calls himself a writer!" Her voice echoed in his mind, bouncing back and forth, getting louder as it reverberated in his brain. The single titled sheets of paper were still spread on his bed and they seemed to inch toward him as she said this. When he reached for them they each began to bleed from the titles, ruining what little there was written on each. He tried save them but the more he touched them the more they bled, and soon his bed was little but a pool of blood.

 

When he looked at the balcony once again Eva and Carlos were gone, their clothes the only thing remaining. They danced in the moonlight, shimmying together as if their owners still filled them. Suddenly the restraints on Bronne were lifted and he jumped from the bed, eager to get away from the blood seeping into his clothes. He ran to the balcony and looked over the side, hoping against hope that they hadn't jumped. He screamed as he saw their bodies intertwined and flying towards the ground at lightening speed, the long scarves billowing behind them. As they were about to hit the ground he felt a small hand pull at his shirt.

 

"What the hell are you doing?" A set of bewildered eyes penetrated him. He looked down and saw that he was hanging over the side of the balcony, his hands reached toward the tiny cars that lined the streets. He searched the ground with terror, afraid that he'd see his girlfriend and best friend smashed to bits.

 

"They're gone! They jumped! We have to go see if they're OK". An overwhelming head rush seized his head and he gripped the railing until his fingers went numb.

 

"What are you talking about? Bronne, talk to me please," Eva's eyes searched his until he realized where he was. She stood rigid with both her hands on his arms, frightened to the core. "Are you OK? You looked like you were going to jump over."

 

Bronne realized where he was and closed his eyes, breathing in the cool air. His head felt heavy and his mouth dry. He looked at his hands and was relieved to not see any blood. "It was just a dream," he said at last.

Reviews

[Steve]

This is really intense! I was enthralled reading this.