Chapter NineteenA Chapter by OcularfractureMiranda wakes up to find that Alice has shown up, with bad intentions.I’m sitting in the middle of a wide open field, the green,
green grass is ever so soft against my skin. I don’t know how long I’ve been
here, or even how I got here, but I feel content. The sun is shining, in the middle of the sky, washing out my
vision. But it isn’t hot, and it doesn’t bother me. The breeze is cool and I
find myself lying back in the grass, just letting the beauty of my surroundings
consume me. The sky is this pure, deep blue with not a single cloud and
only the occasional bird fluttering past, and I swear the sound of the wind in
my ears is almost like a ghostly melody. I close my eyes. Deep in my heart, there’s a happy, warm feeling that I can’t
seem to place. It’s a feeling that something beautiful has happened, yet at the
same time, there’s this sad and empty feeling that I’ve forgotten what it was. Shadows dance across my closed eyes, and I open them to see
something silky blowing across the sun, glinting like silver. Sitting up, I notice that it’s long, blonde hair, connected
to a round, smiling face. Together, we walk hand-in-hand, our surroundings appearing
to build themselves as we walk. All at once, there is a set of swings just
sitting there in the middle of what was once just a plain old field. I stand, awkwardly just watching her, until she beckons for
me to come over and sit next to her, which I do, cheerfully. For awhile, we just swing together, laughing as the cool
breeze combs our hair, tingling our scalps. But then, the sun seems to be setting at an accelerated
pace, slipping down through the sky and disappearing behind the trees, taking
the last few rays of light with it. The sudden darkness is alarming, and as I sit on the ice
cold swing, staring out across the once beautiful landscape, the grass begins
to shrivel up and disappear as the ground itself dries up, cracking. Frightened, I look to Alice who is still sitting on her
swing, smiling as though nothing odd is happening here. I open my mouth to speak, but find that I can’t seem to make
my voice work. “You’re my best friend,” she says, softly, her smile never faltering.
“You’re my best friend, and a w***e. A cheap, dirty little w***e.” My eyes widen, and then my swing is suddenly moving-- slithering.
I scream and jump up, after realizing that I’m holding and sitting on a live,
moving snake. “You’re a w***e, Miranda.” I snap my eyes open and realize that I’m lying on the
cracked lake floor. I blink my eyes a few times, trying to get my bearings and
figure out what I’m doing there. Somewhere to my right, I hear shuffling, and I turn, slowly
to see Gasping, I sit up. My head hurts like hell, and I find that
I’m strangely dizzy. “ “Damn,” she says, picking up a shovel off the ground. “You
woke up too soon. Looks like I’ll have to hit you again.” “What the hell are you doing!?” I cry, leaping out of the
way and trying desperately to get to my feet. “What does it look like?” she says calmly. “I’m killing you
both. Don’t you see? Now stand still so I can hit you.” I back up, trying to keep distance between us. “Why are you doing this?” I ask. “And what are you even
doing here? I thought you were still over at River Ridge!” “Oh, they released me today,” she says, ambling closer to me
as I continue to back away. “All I had to do was tell them that the vision was
gone and I was feeling completely better. It’s funny how stupid and naive they
can be. Of course, it was partially true, anyway. Once I saw it good enough to
find out what you a******s were doing behind my back, it stopped happening. I
knew what I had to do. And gee, you sure picked the perfect spot to get
murdered. I’ll just bury you on the bottom of the lake, and then they’ll fill
it up again and no one will ever find you. It’s flawless.” “ “Bullshit,” she growls. “You think I don’t know why you had
me commit myself? You just wanted to get rid of me so you could be alone
together and… and…AUGH!” “It’s not like that!” I cry. “You needed help! I just wanted
you to get the help you needed!” “And you thought you’d help me by whoring yourself to my
boyfriend!?” “Nothing happened! We just kissed and made out, I swear!” “And you think that’s acceptable!?” “No! I mean…” I’m shaking so hard I can barely stand, but I
can’t let myself fall. I just have to keep talking. Keep moving. “You treat him like crap!” I shout. “He stopped loving you a
long time ago! Maybe if you had treated him better and not gone insane, this
wouldn’t have happened!” “Oh,” says “Pretty much! Don’t you realize that your little vision was
a self-fulfilling prophecy!? This only happened because you made it happen! I warned you to just
quit listening to that stupid song, but you refused! You had to have everything
your way! It’s your fault that we got closer! It’s your fault he stopped loving you! It’s your fault that we were alone together tonight!!” “BUT IT’S NOT MY FAULT THAT HE’S ALWAYS LOVED YOU!” she
cries, her voice breaking. I freeze, peering at her through the darkness. “What did you just say?” “You’re so stupid,
Miranda! That’s the only reason I was never worried. Because you’re so stupid,
you never saw the way he looked at you. You never saw the way he’d suddenly
show interest whenever you started talking. You’re an idiot, and you couldn’t
see that he was in love with you. So I never worried that you’d take him away
from me. But now you’ve gone and done it!” “ “No,” she says. “I have to do this.” “Why?” I plead. “Why do you have to do this?” “Because…” “Because, why, “Because….” She trembles. “I’m just so ANGRY!” “You took everything from me!” she shrieks. “He was
everything to me, and you stole him away! You’re a cheap w***e!!!” “I AM NOT!” I cry, diving out of the way as she brings the
shovel crashing down into the dirt near my foot. Floyd is starting to convulse, his legs kicking madly, and I
see that his hands are taped behind his back. “What about me!?” I cry, rushing to Floyd’s side and clawing
at the plastic bag with my nails. “What about everything you did to me!? How
many boyfriends did you have, I rip a golf ball sized hole in the bag just in time to
dodge another blow from “Every boy I ever liked wanted you! So I just gave up on
trying! I’ve never even had one
boyfriend in my entire life, and it’s all because of you! And now, I actually
have the chance to be happy with someone who truly loves me, and you want to
kill us!? You’re fucked up, “Why did it have to be him!?” she cries. “Why him!? Why
now!?” “I don’t know!” I shout. “Things just happen!” “You’re just desperate!” she screams, jabbing at me with the
tip of the shovel. “You only like him because he likes you, and you’re pathetic!” As she jabs at me, I manage to grab the shovel and yank it
away from her. “No,” I say, raising it above my head, menacingly. “I like
him because he’s a good person. Because he treats people with kindness, even if
they’re complete b*****s, like you!” Before I know it, “I HATE YOU,” she screams, squeezing my neck so tightly that
I can’t breathe. “I F*****G HATE YOU! HURRY UP AND DIE!!!” I can feel all the blood sealed inside my head, ready to
burst out through my eyeballs, and I’m so dizzy. With all my might, I tug Soon, my vision is blurry and I can’t find the energy to
struggle anymore. All I can see are colorful bursts of imaginary light, like
fireworks bursting in my eyes. Somehow, I can almost hear voices, but I can’t make out what
they might be saying. I’m not even really aware of any pain anymore. I’m not
really aware of anything anymore, until I feel I suck in a huge breath, and my head seems to pound and
throb. Something hot spills down both my sides, and I hear a voice say “F**k!
You missed!” Footsteps rush toward me, and then “Holy s**t,” says a voice. “I think you killed her.” “Damn it,” someone else says. “I was aiming for her arm.” The next thing I know, a dark figure is crouching down next
to me, lifting my head, slightly. “Ma’am,” he says. “Are you alright?” It isn’t until I try to speak that I realize I can’t. My
voice won’t come out at all, and I can’t think of any words. The man checks my pulse. “She’s alive,” he says. “Send for paramedics. We need to get
her to a hospital.” “What about that one?” someone else says. The man holding me looks away for a moment. “He’s got a bag over his head. He’s probably a goner. But
send for three ambulances anyway.” A tear slides down my cheek, and inside I’m howling in
agony, unable to scream aloud. He can’t be gone. He just can’t. Sirens rage from someplace far away. “Well, let’s at least get the bag off his head,” says a
third person. I can hear rustling and tearing as the bag and duct tape are
removed from Floyd’s body. Shutting my eyes tightly, I wait for the news. I wait, as
tears stream down my face, unable to say a word. “He’s got a pulse!” the man shouts. “And he’s breathing! Oh,
look! He’s opening his eyes and everything.” I swallow hard, as tears flow from my eyes in relief. “You okay, buddy?” “Where’s Miranda?” comes Floyd’s slightly scratchy, but
ever-so-pleasant voice. “Is she okay?” The man nearest Floyd sucks in a huge breath. “That would depend on which one Miranda is,” he says,
regretfully. “I’m afraid we accidentally gunned down one of the girls.” “What!?” Floyd is frantic and I can hear him getting to his
feet in a hurry. “Which one? Show me!” “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, son…” “SHOW ME!” Floyd barks. The man sighs, and then there are footsteps for a moment. “Oh, my God… “We tried, but… it was dark, and…she was just too far away.” Floyd clears his throat. “Where is Miranda, then?” Footsteps shuffle toward me and Floyd’s face comes into
view, barely visible through the darkness. “Is she alright!?” Floyd stoops down and takes my head out of the officer’s
arms, bringing his face close. “Miranda,” he whispers. “Are you alright? I can’t really see
you, baby.” For some reason, being called “baby” sends my heart racing,
and my blood starts pumping again. I can literally feel it rushing back into my
head, and for the first time, I can think semi-clearly. “F"Floyd,” I choke. “Oh, thank God!” He pulls me close, his chest heaving. “I am so sorry,” he cries. “What for?” I croak, my voice hoarse. “Oh, for so many things,” he says, kissing my forehead. “For
getting us into this whole situation. And for making us wait three years to be
together… I should have confessed my feelings so long ago, before I shake my head, smiling. The sirens are extremely close now and within a few minutes,
I hear strange metal creaking sounds moving toward us. “Who are we bringing?” comes a disembodied voice. “Well, that one for sure,” says the officer nearest me. “And
this one, too. Sir, I recommend you go to the hospital and get checked out,” he
says to Floyd. “But since you seem to be quite alert, you can probably just ride
in the ambulance with your girlfriend.” My stomach flutters. “Awesome,” says Floyd’s voice. “I’m right here, Miranda. I’m
not leaving your side.” I smile, as a couple of people grab me and heave me up onto
the stretcher. Realizing, as Floyd requests they cover me with a sheet, that
I’m still in my bra. The stretcher bounces and jerks around as they pull it
across the lake floor and up, up, up to the parking lot where several
ambulances sit, waiting. They lift me inside the nearest one, and it’s so bright, I
can barely keep my eyes open at first. Floyd climbs in after me and sits down on the sideways seat
to my left, taking my hand. “I love you,” he whispers. “So very, very much.” I smile and open my mouth to speak, when something outside
the ambulance catches my eye and I freeze. It’s the white car. That same exact white car that’s been
following me around. And standing close by is a man who I recognize, but can’t
place. For one fleeting moment, we make eye contact, and he smiles,
shyly. Then, the EMT climbs inside and slams the doors shut as the
ambulance roars to life and starts away toward the hospital. © 2012 Ocularfracture |
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Added on April 10, 2012 Last Updated on April 10, 2012 Tags: psychological, trigger song, music, vision, premonition, friends, mental, crazy psychosis, therapist AuthorOcularfractureBennington, NEAboutI've been writing since I learned how. I'm not saying that 5-year-old work was any good. All's I'm sayin' is that the passion has been there as far back as I can remember. My mother always read me sto.. more..Writing
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