Chapter Three - The Discovery - Cont'd

The Wraith.

She liked the sound of that. It sounded… empowering.

Maggie had asked her if she was a superhero now. Why not? James thought. Someone to right the wrongs, to offer assistance when in desperate need, to avenge… avenge what? Scorned women? The lovelorn? Unrequited love?

Maybe just to be a hand in need when a woman doesn’t realize what’s in front of her. Maybe someone to help her escape an inescapable situation. Someone to prevent the damage before the damage is done. James knew a lot of damaged women, being one herself.

The idea intrigued her. But, really, a superhero? She didn’t read comic books. She liked movies based on comic books, if they were well done. Most weren’t. And why did they always wear spandex? No lycra for the Wraith.

James walked to her closet, peering inside. Wraith. What does one wear as a wraith? Wraith, she knew, was an apparition, sometimes something that appeared to portend one’s death. Sometimes defined as a spirit over the waters. She had done a bit of research herself while waiting to hear from Maggie. Portend one’s death. Hmmm, sounded interesting.

Inside her closet, which had been severely pruned, nothing appeared terribly superhero-like. She picked out what had become her favorite outfit – jeans, white cotton man’s shirt, boots. She was just about the close the closet door when something caught her eye. She reached way in the back, pulling out a long, dark riding coat. A leftover from him. She hadn’t been able to part with it yet hadn’t been able to figure out why. Now she knew. Part of the man who had killed her – almost killed her—was to figure into this escapade somehow. She pulled the coat on, snapping the collar to attention. It covered her face quite nicely. I need a hat, she thought. Something dark and low, leather, maybe. She’d have to find something.

Looking in the mirror, she was stunned by what she saw. She seemed taller, broader, more… substantial. The collar hid her face but her dark red hair was startling above it. Maybe she could do this. Be a superhero.

She laughed out loud. Okay, get real. A superhero. Yeah. Right. But she looked in the mirror and that’s what it seemed like.

Suddenly, a vision hit her that she couldn’t avoid. Her knees buckled and she grabbed on to the dresser to hold herself up. No vision had ever hit her this hard. She could see a woman, standing at her window, a car idling outside. She could hear the woman saying, “go away.” That’s all she got before it was gone.

She couldn’t get to her car fast enough, something driving her and guiding her. She wheeled down the precarious driveway, narrowly missing the walls on the way down. She didn’t know where she was going but she knew she had to get there.

*********************
James arrived just in time. The car was idling but he wasn’t in it. He was standing on the curb, the woman’s wrist clenched in his hand, his dark leather cowboy hat pulled down over his eyes. She was trying to get away and he clamped his hand over her mouth before she could scream.

He never knew what hit him. He just saw the sidewalk coming up to his face too fast for him to stop it from breaking his nose. The next thing he saw was a beat-up red leather boot – or at least the toe of said boot – holding his neck to the ground. The shadow looming over him seemed huge, the coat flapping like something out of a John Woo film.

“See, it’s guys like you that piss off women like me.”

“What?” he tried to say but his windpipe was almost closed by her foot.

“She’s not interested in you anymore. Take the hint and shove off.”

He mumbled something angry and she just laughed.

“Did you just tell me to fuck off?”

He grunted again.

Her foot cut that short. She somehow knew when to let the pressure of so as to not kill him, just knock him out cold.

“They never learn.”

James turned to the woman who was cowering against the stairs. She slowly sunk down next to her, checking the woman’s wrist. The woman pulled away, shaking her head.

James stood up and flipped open her cell phone. She dialed 9-1-1. When they answered, she explained about the assault and assured the dispatcher she’d be waiting.

The woman stood shakily, reaching for James’ phone.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?”

“It won’t stop him. I’ve tried that. There’s a restraining order and he just keeps showing up. The police hassle him, he goes away, but he always comes back.” Her haunted eyes roamed over his prostrate body.

“Sounds like he needs to learn a lesson.”

James smiled slowly, an idea growing in her mind. The woman wasn’t sure she liked that smile.

***********************

When the police arrived, there was nothing there but a smudge of blood on the sidewalk, not enough to interest them.

***********************

The man woke slowly, his vision blurred from the lack of oxygen. He stared at the shadow in front of him, not being able to make out exactly what it was. But he knew the voice.

“You need to understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.”

“What do you mean?”

“The lady told you not to come around before, right?”

“What?”

James spoke very slowly. “The – lady – said – don’t – come – ‘round, - correct?”

“Yeah, I guess, but she didn’t mean it.”

“You are going to learn that she did.”

Suddenly, he felt a great pain in his groin. Then he realized that he was hanging upside down and his hands were tied. He realized this because he couldn’t use his hands to release the vice grip on his nuts.

“Stop!”

“I don’t think you mean it.”

The grip tightened.

“Stop!!”

“I don’t think you really mean it.”

Tighter.

He couldn’t say anything and the world swirled in front of him.

“Do you now understand that she meant it?”

He tried to nod but his head hurt when he did it.

“I’m sorry, I guess I was wrong and you don’t understand.”

Unbearable pain.

“No, stop, please!”

“Is that what she said to you?”

“What?”

“Did she say, no, go away, I don’t want you to come around?”

“Y-y-yeah.”

“What?”

More pain.

“Yeah!!!”

“So you now understand what?”

He couldn’t speak.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you.”

“No. She said no. She said don’t come… not anymore.”

“And do you think she meant it?”

“What?”

More pain.

“Stop! No. I mean, yes, I mean. Yes, she meant it.”

“And what does that mean to you?”

“Go away. Don’t come back.”

“And you’re not going to come back, are you?”

He whimpered a “no.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understood you.”

“No, not coming back.”

“Cuz I’ll know if you did. And I’ll make you understand even better about the concept of not coming back. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

His breath was coming in pain-filled gasps now.

“Yeah, I got it.”

He came down with a thud. The sound of her bootheels echoed in his head and he noticed that she had his hat as he lost consciousness.

Chapter Three – The Discovery – Cont’d

The dreams were the worst. They came fast and furious night now, driving James from her bed to prowl the streets. Nothing as spectacular as Cecelia happened again – mainly because James avoided the places that those tingly sensations led her. Instead, she either perched on her porch and watched the city below or hunkered down at Kaldi, an all-night coffee shop that seemed to lack tingly spots. Most nights there, she stared at a blank pad of paper, her fountain pen capped and unused.

The long sleepless nights were wearing on James. And it showed. Out for her weekly dinner with Serena, James tried to hide the circles under he eyes to no avail.

“There are things you can take, you know.”

“No.”

“James, you have to sleep.”

“Sleep is over-rated.”

“James…”

“Serena.”

Her phone conversations with Guy didn’t go much better.

“Serena says you’re not sleeping.”

“Serena needs to mind her own business.”

“James, you are her business.”

“Guy, please.”

“James, it’s only been…well… since you…”

“I know how long it’s been. I’ve counted the days.”

Cold silence.

“She loves you, James, that’s all.”

She stared at the empty connection as he hung up.

Just as disturbing were the visions because they came when she was wide awke. nothing in particular seemed to trigger them. They came with touch, they came with a look and they came seemingly on the wind.

And her taste for whiskey seemed to grow.

One such sleepless night when the whiskey only brought her a pleasant buzz, James found herself searching the internet. What for, she didn’t know. She just couldn’t seem to stop clicking the mouse. In her right hand, her fingers caressed the amulet usually adorning her neck.

One click stopped her. The amulet in her hand was pictured on the laptop screen. Startled, she peered closer, unconsciously bookmarking the page. She tried to focus on the text but her alcohol-blurred brain wouldn’t absorb it. A few words jumped out – “salvation,” “suicide,” “revenge,” “unrequited.” The one word that seemed the most recurrent was “Wraith.” Capital “W”. James hit print, figuring she’d read it in the morning. Well, truthfully, in the afternoon.

She woke with a start, head on her laptop keyboard, kink in her neck and a pounding head. She knocked the empty Jameson’s bottle off the desk as she struggled upright.

Her cell phone rang, causing the most exquisite pain in her skull. She finally found the offensive device under a pile of paper and opened it.

“What?!”

“Nice greeting.”

“Sorry, Mags. What’s up?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch.”

James was barely listening. The papers that had buried her phone all bore the image of the amulet and the word “Wraith.” Nothing else. Single image, single word. Page after page after page. Seemingly an entire ream.

“James?”

“Mags, how much do you know about mythology?”

“How long have you known me and you have to ask me that question? Which continent? Which era? Real or fictional?””

James clicked the laptop awake and ran down to the last book mark on her browser. The title was simple. “The Wraith.” But nothing came up when she clicked on it. Nothing. No 404 error. No progress bar. Just nothing.

“James?”

“Lunch sounds good.”

***********************

The Farmer’s Market bustled as usual. James and Maggie found what passed for a quiet corner amongst the old, the faux boho’s and the tourists. Despite the noise and the chaos, Maggie was focued on the printed image and the amulet James had handed her.

“I was wondering why you’ve been wearing this,” Maggie said after James explained about the old man and his gift. “This is a very powerful symbol. Only a few of these amulets were created in the late 1700s. They were given only to the most powerful of shamans, usually the females of the tribe. But this amulet has never been found in North America. In fact, most Western scholars don’t know of its existence. It’s usually found amongst the mountain tribes in Asia.”

Maggie turned the amulet over and over in her hands, looking for identifying marks.

“It doesn’t look like something mass produced but it must be. The last of the amulets was supposedly destroyed at the turn of the last century. Something about destroying the curse with the amulet.”

“What curse?”

“That I’m not clear on. Let me do some research. Can I keep this?”

But James ripped the amulet out of Maggie’s hand before she could stop herself.

“Sorry, but no.”

“That’s fine.”

The two friends sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. Maggie spoke first.

“This explains a lot.”

“What does?”

“The amulet. You. Your recovery.”

“You’re nuts.

“Say what you want, I think it explains a lot. You haven’t been yourself since…”

“Since I committed suicide. I know.”

Maggie just looked at her.

“Attempted, James.”

James couldn’t think of a response.

“Serena and Guy think you need therapy.”

“And what do you think.”

Maggie ran a finger over the image of the amulet in front of her.

“I think you need something stronger.”

**********************

Chapter Three - The Discovery

“So what are you? A superhero now?” Maggie’s voice was fuzzy through the cell phone. Or maybe it was the whiskey James has consumed only hours ago. Somehow, the taste of Jamesons satisfied her nerves in ways that merlot never did. She wasn’t even sure where the whiskey came from, it was just there when she needed it.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Cecelia? The woman you stalked and then somehow miraculously burst through the door and saved last night?”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I was just trying to help.”

“Right place, right time?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. How is she?”

“He didn’t break anything… this time. She’s still talking about going back but I think, after a good night’s sleep, I might convince her otherwise.”

“Good. I knew you’d take care of her.”

There’s a long silence, except for the blinding scream of a hangover in James’ head.

“You’re not gonna tell me how you ended up…”

“Maggie, it’s late… or it’s early, I’m not sure which. I’ll call you later, when I’m more myself.”

“Do you know who that is anymore?”

James closed her cell phone.

“No, not really.” She faded into the blackness again.

*****************

James brooded on the porch, watching the city light up below her perch. She had no idea what had brought her to the rescue last night and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know.

She knew in that moment that her life was never going to be the same.

She twirled the amulet in her fingers, it’s ancient surface not reflecting any light at all, kind of the way she felt since she had returned to life.

On the porch at her feet were the tokens of his affection, the one who had brought her so far down, so deep into the black that she almost gave in. What she wanted to do more than anything was take each item, tie him to a chair and stuff each piece down his throat and watch him choke on it. But she knew that would accomplish nothing. Besides, he’d probably be dead by the time she finished with the second teddy bear and where was the fun in that?

Instead, she carried the pile around back and set it on the edge of the fire pit that someone had so thoughtfully installed another lifetime ago. She had a lovely roaring fire already going, taking the chill off the hillside air. One by one, she took each memento, thinking about what it had meant to her when he gave it to her and the fact that, now, in the glow of the firelight, she could only think of what cheap crap he bought her. Nothing had any value any more.

She watched with detached apathy as each thing went up in smoke. Some merely sizzled and popped, others created their own little fireworks show. None of them touched her.

Now she could only envision putting him on the fire… and that felt just about right.

**********************

Chapter Two - The Beginning - cont'd

James broke the surface of her sleep, sweating and clawing for air. The screams in her dream still clung to her psyche, hanging in the air in her bedroom. She looked around, her eyes wide, her breath ragged. The still-new shapes in her room were distorted and unfamiliar, unnerving her further.

She struggled out of the sheets, which seemed determined to hold her captive. Finally wresting out of them, she staggered to the bathroom, fumbled for the light, and then managed to splash some cold water on her face. As she studied her own terrified face in the mirror, she thought, Is this what it’s going to be like?

She pulled on some clothes, glancing at the clock on her bedside table. 2:45 a.m. Her friends had left only a short time ago but it felt like days.

James made her way to the front door, grabbing her keys. She stopped, noticing that Guy had left his soft black leather car coat on a chair near the door. I’ll have to get it back to him, she thought. She picked it up, meaning to hang it on a coat rack but his scent caught her. Guy wasn’t one to wear cologne but the jacket hung on to the scent of soap and shampoo and just his natural smell. Unable to stop herself, she brought the coat to her face, inhaling. The visions from the previous night came swirling back, adding in a few more from both the good and bad side of the line just for good measure.

This is absurd, she thought as she hung the coat up. I can’t believe I’m sniffing his coat like a bitch in heat. For god’s sake, he’s my friend, not my lover.

She slammed the door behind her.

*******************

The streets were dark and vacant as James drove into the night. She didn’t know where she was going; she just knew she had to get away. She thought maybe an all night coffee shop would be nice. Not a diner, too many sad souls at a diner. Coffee shops seemed somehow more optimistic in the middle of the night. She could call Guy. He usually worked nights, although this was his night off, and she knew he’d be up. They’d had many a late night “lunch” and phone conversation at three in the morning but, after her coat-sniffing incident, she didn’t feel that she could talk to him right now.

The warm glow of an open coffeehouse drew her to park her car. She grabbed the notebook she always had in the back seat and headed inside.

It was like any of the thousands of local coffee shops that still manage to dot the landscape, despite the influx of franchise burned-coffee chains. Aiming for bohemian and funky, most of these shops borrow from thrift stores for this look and hang art that looks like your dog could paint it.

The place was pretty deserted at 3 a.m. and James was glad for that. She hunted out a table in the furthest corner, wanting to stay out of the view of the few occupants. She opened her notebook, not sure what she was going to write. She hadn’t written since that night. In fact, she hadn’t written much before that because of… well… because of circumstances. At least the notebook made her look like she was doing something other than hiding from her dreams.

She took out her favorite fountain pen. Pretentious, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself. It was how she started writing in high school and she felt it was how she did her best work – long hand, in a notebook, with her Sheaffer Legacy fountain pen.

The waitress stared at her from the counter. James suddenly remembered that she had to go and order, that the concept of table service no longer existed. She left her things on the table and went to the counter.

“Yeah?” Customer service at its best, James thought as she studied the menu. That almost made her laugh. A menu of coffee drinks, tea drinks, non-coffee drinks, decaf coffee drinks, non-coffee non-decaf frappy coffee things. All of them cost at least a gallon of gas.

“Coffee,” James said.

“What flavor?” She pointed to a list of country/flavor/blend of coffees available that night.

“Surprise me.”

The waitress – sorry, counter person – waited for James to take back her lack of choice but realized eventually that she was not going to. With a condescending sigh, the counter person moved with great effort to the pneumatic pot that housed the heavenly Arabica/Columbian/Honduran elixir that was so highly in demand. She pumped the top and filled an enormous cup with something dark, dark brown and James had to admit that it did smell heavenly. She might actually have to ask what country/flavor/blend it was.

The counter person slid the boat of a mug over to James. Their hands touched briefly as James reached for it. Images of this woman with another woman swarmed over her. Suddenly, James felt her knees buckle and she had to hang on to the counter. These were the images from her dream. At first, she thought it was just coincidence but as she studied the woman, James recognized her worn expression, her tired eyes, her world weariness.

Without being able to stop herself, James grasped the woman’s hand tightly. She leaned over the counter, frightening her.

“Don’t go home,” James hissed almost without being aware she was speaking. “She’s waiting for you.”

“Who?”

“You know.”

The counter person shook her head but James could see recognition in her eyes. She knew what James was talking about but was in denial.

“She’s going to kill you.”

The woman again shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“No, I’ve seen it.”

“I think you need to leave.”

The woman slid the coffee back over to her side of the counter and James let go of her hand. What the hell was she doing?

“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

James looked up into the woman’s eyes, which were filled with fear and knowledge and pain. She tried to speak again but the woman turned her back and stood pointedly beside the phone.

James stumbled back to her table, gathering her things. The few nocturnal occupants hid their interest behind the free weekly newspaper and their own ragged notebooks but James could feel their curiosity bleeding through the pages. She quietly made her way out of the coffee shop, uncertain what had come over her.

*********************
James sat outside of the apartment, knowing she shouldn’t be there, not really knowing how she knew where to go. She knew, however, without a doubt that this was where the counter person lived and that there was going to be blood shed tonight.

Her Ipod played softly, James trying to keep herself distracted and seated in the car. She wanted nothing more than to leap from her seat, stand in front of the door to the apartment (number 14) and wait. Wait for what? Her dreams to come true. Yes, she knew that’s why she was here. Her dreams had brought her here.

James found her hand going to her throat and wrapping around the amulet that she was unaware she had put on. She must have grabbed it with her clothes. It was the amulet that the man had given her at the hospital. She hadn’t worn it until now. She didn’t seem to be able to leave it alone suddenly.

A light went on, distracting her. She knew it was the woman’s apartment. James killed the ignition and quietly made her way out of the car.

Effortlessly, James got into the building. The front door didn’t seem to be so secure when a single yank pulled the lock almost out of its housing. Couldn’t have been put in too well, she thought as she crept up the stairs to the second floor.

The only window with a light on belonged to apartment 14. James hung outside the door, listening. Everything seemed to be quiet. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe her dreams were just that – dreams. Maybe she had lost her mind when she had taken those pills. She sure wasn’t herself lately.

The sound that stopped her wasn’t very loud. It was a simple “smack”, like a palm against a cheek. She shouldn’t have been able to hear it through the closed apartment door but she did. She moved back to the window, peering through the slight opening in the curtains.

All James could see where shadows. They were moving back and forth but it was hard to see what was going on. However, there was no mistaking the hand going up and bearing down on the figure crouched beneath it. The smack resonated again and that was enough for James.

Before she knew it, the door was on the ground, knocked off of its hinges by James. Three stunned figures stared at her in the doorway. James took it all in within seconds. A man standing over the battered counter person, another woman standing mostly naked nearby, clutching a sheet around her and holding a very lethal-looking knife in the her free hand. The tableau was frozen before her but James didn’t need anybody to sum it up for her. The bruises on the counter person’s face was all she needed.

In a blur, the man was on the ground, bleeding from various places. The sheet-clad vixen was de-sheeted and disarmed and left broken beside her lover. The counter person was swept up by James and into her car before she knew what happened.

James’ car flew through the almost non-existent traffic, the counter person hanging on for dear life. Blood flowed freely from her nose and her eyes were already turning purple. But she was currently more afraid of the driver of the car than the terror she had left behind.

“You. It’s you. From the coffee shop. But how did you…?”

James was concentrating on her driving.

“You couldn’t have known that this was going to happen. I didn’t know he was… I mean, I kind of thought he was… but he’s never hit me before.”

James slammed on the brakes, her anger breaking over her before she could grab ahold of it.

“You knew. You knew from the first time he fucked another woman. You knew the first time he punched you in the face and broke your jaw. And you know it’s not going to stop here. It’ll only stop if you stop it.”

The woman stared at James, tears streaming down her face, shame coloring her cheeks. James caught herself, pulling the anger back into check. She put the car back into gear and started to drive again, this time at a more reasonable pace.

“I’ve been there. You have no idea how much I’ve been there. I’m going to take you to a shelter. They’ll help you out. They’ll help you start over.”

The woman wouldn’t look at James, only stared out the window. Guess I’ve got to work on my car-side manner, James thought. They drove in silence a little while longer until James found what she was looking for.

The building was nondescript, which was the point. You wouldn’t know it was a battered woman’s shelter unless you knew someone who worked there or who had been there. James knew both. She parked the car around the back and helped the woman out. They went the few steps to the back door. James rang the bell a couple of times before someone answered.

The door opened and Maggie stood there, fully clothed but obviously just awakened. She stared uncertainly at James.

“James?”

“She needs help.” James gently prodded the woman towards Maggie, who took one look at her and immediately woke up.

“I’m sorry. I dozed off at the desk. It’s been a quiet night.” Maggie took the woman gently by the hands and pushed the door open wider. “Welcome. I’m Maggie. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Maggie turned to ask James a question but the tail lights of her car were already pulling away. Maggie watched in confusion, unsure what had just transpired. The woman looked after James’ car as well.

“Who was she?” Maggie shook her head and led the woman inside.

“A good Samaritan, sweetie, that’s all you need to know.”

*******************

Chapter Two - The Beginning

This is the place. James knew it as soon as she laid eyes on it. Whereas her old apartment was sunny and open and inviting, this house was secluded, closed off nad moody. The ancient stonework and the low slung profile were perfect for the new phase of her life James that felt she was entering.

The cobbled, winding driveway up the steep hill was almost impossible to navigate, whether by car or on foot. At night, the trek through the wrought iron gates to the house bordered on deadly. Just the way she wanted it.

She didn’t quibble on the asking price, even though she knew she was paying too much. She didn’t care. Her money had been sitting dormant for so long, now it was time to put it to work.

She sensed her friends before their heavy breathing gave them away. She noticed that, lately, she seemed to know things – when someone was about to call, the presence of her friends before they arrived, and the dreams and visions. Those were the most unnerving things, the dreams and visions. The other stuff she could write off as knowing her friends well and that connection friends have. The dreams and visions, she could not discount nor understand.

“There’s gotta be an easier way to get up here.” Serena. James heard Guy just grunt.

Finally, the trio cleared the final turn and stopped to catch their breath. James watched from the porch, knowing they probably couldn’t see her yet. She studied each of them as if she’d never seen them before.

Serena, one of her oldest and dearest friend, always the first one to find a logical explanation for anything, was thoroughly confused by this new James she had become. With Serena, everything took time, took thought, took contemplation. She was not one to leap into anything with days and weeks of consideration, a trait that amused and frustrated James alternately.

Maggie was the epitome of earth mother. Nurturing and mothering, Maggie had just recently come into James’ life and James was still trying to figure out how she fit. James almost couldn’t remember how she met Maggie, she just seemed to have appeared in her life one day and that was it. Maggie was always ready with a quote from some spiritual book she had just read or a piece of a poem that seemed perfect for the occasion. James wasn’t sure if that was good or annoying.

Guy, on the other hand, had known James the longest. They had worked together a half a life ago at a name tag job, bonded over being surreptitiously insubordinate and had been friends ever since. As with most men and women, their friendship was occasionally complicated by a confusion of signals and emotions, sometimes feeling like more than a friendship but not quite a relationship, sometimes being simply a kiss away from something more. Neither of them ever took that one step that would change their friendship forever.

James finally stood when she felt that they had recovered enough.

“Welcome.”

The trio put on their best faces and met her on the porch.

“Canceling your gym membership is in order, that much I can say,” Serena quipped as she perched on the stone wall surrounding the porch. “I know where I can go if I ever want to train for a trek up Kilimanjaro.”

“I’m getting used to it,” James said, putting her feet up beside Serena as the others settled in. “Look at it this way, no Jehovah’s Witnesses will be found knocking on my door.”

“Yeah, you’ll find their skeletons years from now after a winter thaw and wonder how they got there.”

They were quiet as they all searched for something positive to say to the woman they all loved but who had changed so drastically recently.

“What’s left in the apartment?” Guy was always the practical one.

“Not much. Got most of the furniture last week with you guys and I’ve been bringing boxes over every day.”

“Are you writing at all?” James met Guy’s gaze without flinching. She hadn’t written a word.

“I’m on hiatus.”

“For how long?”

“However long it takes.”

The old friends held each other’s look, each wanting to say something more but not sure what or how. Instead, Maggie broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Well, it’s… unique.”

James stood up. “Let’s eat.”

********************
Once inside, with food in their bellies (take-out Thai) and wine in their hearts, the talk finally loosened up and James felt a tiny bit like her old self again – the part of her old self she wanted to hang on to. Maggie was treating them to tales of her journeys far and wide. A travel writer with a spiritual bent, Maggie’s stories were always fascinating. Although tonight, James found herself barely listening, just absorbing more than anything. It was like she could read their feelings moreso than their thoughts, but yet she felt as if she knew what each of them carried deeply, secretly within their hearts. That deep, shared intimacy that only very good, very close friends can have.

Guy followed her into the kitchen, despite her protests. They left Maggie and Serena arguing over some obscure philosophy Maggie encountered on her travels and left the door open so they could hear the discourse in the background.

“Trash is over by the door.” Guy dumped out the leftovers as James filled the sink. She liked the fact that the two of them didn’t necessarily have to talk all the time. Guy seemed to understand her without words. They had such a shorthand with each other that they often confused people around them, finishing each other’s sentences and barely having to speak at all. That felt so good, even now, maybe especially now.

Guy joined her at the sink and tossed his dishes in with hers. Not one to pull punches, he finally asked the question they’d all wanted to ask.

“So, has he called?”

James just shook her head, suddenly unable to speak.

“Does he know at all?”

Again with the head shake.

“Does he know…”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Fine.” Guy had so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to say but he wouldn’t. They worked in silence, the drone of Maggie and Serena filling the quiet. Finally, Guy shifted his weight and let his hip bump gently against hers.

“Glad you’re still here.”

James caught the emotion in her throat. “Me, too.”

His green eyes peered deep into her and said everything he wanted to say. She leaned over and gently kissed his cheek. He leaned into her kiss, not wanting to break the moment. They stood there, cheek to cheek, in a silent dance, overcome. Serena’s footsteps forced them apart, although she hesitated in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?”

James sloshed around in the sink. “Not at all. Anything left out there?”

Maggie joined them and the laughter and conversation began again, although underneath it, James kept catching Guy watching her, for once unable to read those intriguing eyes of his.

The rest of the evening was joyful and uneventful as the friends tried to settle back into their old routines with their renewed friend. By the time the clock was well past midnight, the trio finally made their way to the front door to bid their hostess good night.

James grabbed a couple of flashlights and made her way down the crooked hill with them to ensure their safety. She was much amused at Serena and Maggie cringing from the critters that rustled in the bushes in the darkness. The wine seemed to make them both even more girly, sending the pair into fits of giggles, which slowed the progress greatly. By the time they reached the wrought iron gates, Guy was pretty much done with them and focused back on James.

“You need anything, you call me.”

“Of course.”

Maggie gave her a big hug. “I’ve left some lavender in the kitchen for you. Fill the house with that wonderful scent.”

Serena was next with the hugs, a little more hesitant than Maggie to let her friend go. “Is this really what you want?” James just nodded. “Okay, I’ll see if I can find a fitting housewarming gift to fit your décor. Early Flintstones ought to do it.” They laughed and hugged again.

Guy hovered as the two girls made their way to their cars. He didn’t want to leave but didn’t know how to stay. If only he could know that James was having the same thoughts – I don’t want you to go but I don’t know how to ask you to stay.

He finally reached out and drew her into his embrace, holding her longer than he meant to.

James was suddenly filled with images – the two of them curled up on her new couch, warm and cozy; them side by side, sleeping, his hand on her; his sea green eyes filled with hurt and incomprehension; him walking away from her, not turning around.

She squeezed him closer before letting him go, hoping it would trigger more, something clearer, but nothing came. Guy just stood back, gave her a quick peck on the lips then waved as he walked to his car. James stood between the gates, watching him get in his car. She couldn’t bring herself to walk away until his taillights disappeared around the corner. Even then, she waited, thinking he might turn around, he might come back. But he never did.

She closed the gates.

Chapter One - The End - final

I don’t belong here, James thought as she opened the door to her apartment. Suddenly, I don’t fit. Beside the door, the tokens of her now-defunct passion still sat, reminding her of what drove her to the drastic measures she took.

Serena and Guy came in behind her, oblivious to her racing thoughts.

“You want something to eat?” Serena immediately headed to the kitchen.

“Not hungry.”

“Oh, c’mon. Two days on hospital food. You wanna order Chinese? Pizza?” James heard the fridge open. “God. Okay, how ‘bout I go shopping for you? When was the last time you went for groceries?”

James couldn’t remember. Something seemed to have shifted in her. She gazed around the apartment as if she was looking at it for the first time. Little trinkets that once were so precious now seemed silly and frivolous. The pale pastels on the walls, once so elegant and refined, now felt garish and loud. The place suddenly was too frilly, too girly, too silly.

“James?” Guy was standing beside her, looking into her eyes in that way he had. “You okay?” James just nodded. “Why don’t you sit for a minute?” Then Guy spotted the pile of stuff by the door. His face changed, vacillating between anger and sadness, expressions he did not often wear. “I’ll take those down to the dumpster for you.”

As he reached down to pick up the pile, James grabbed his hands and wrenched them away. Startled, Guy backed up a step.

“Leave them. I’ll…” James realized she didn’t know what she planned to do with them but there seemed to be something working in the back of her mind for the disposition of these goodies. “I’ll do it myself. It’ll be… therapeutic.”

Guy nodded, his eyes searching hers before he stepped away.

Suddenly, the door to the apartment burst open and a flurry of gauzy material and energy flew in. Maggie Temple, the missing best friend of the trio of best friends, grabbed James in a back-breaking hug, her eyes already streaming with tears.

“I just got back in town. Serena left me a message but I’ve been traveling and couldn’t call. Oh, my god, are you all right? You look great! That bastard! Did he ever come see you? Did he know you were there? Son of a bitch. You ought to…”

Maggie finally noticed the others watching her, trying not to laugh. “Fine. Laugh. I’m worried, I’m scared to death and you’re laughing at me. Fine.” Her lower lip trembled, a symbol of the emotion about to be released. James put a hand on her arm, stemming the tide of tears.

“I’m glad you’re here, Mags.” James awkwardly embraced her friend, triggering a very strange image in James’ head. A vision of Maggie and a man whose face she couldn’t see, who was standing tall over Maggie, menacing, yet Maggie completely unaware of the threat. James stepped back, shaking her head to try to dispel the image. “Did you meet someone in… where were you again?”

“Nepal. Tibetan research. What do you mean, did I meet someone? You mean like a man?” James nodded. “No. No one special. Couple of guys doing research like me that I hung out with but that’s about it. Why?”

“Nothing.” Suddenly, James was exhausted by all the attention, all the commotion, all the things she had endured over the past few days. She sank on to the sofa, which didn’t seem to fit anymore either. She looked up at her friends, wanting them to be gone more than anything in the world. Instead, they hovered, watching her, trying to pretend that they weren’t watching her. Finally, she decided she needed to say something.

“Look, I appreciate you all hanging around but…”

“It’s no big deal, James, we’re here for you.” Serena gestured for them all to sit, which they did, creating even more tension in the back of James’ neck.

“Look, what I really need is…”

“Food…” Serena sprang to her feet until James gestured her to sit again.

“What I really need is to be alone.” The three exchanged wary glances. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I just need some time by myself to… to adjust to things. To think about things.” She caught Guy’s glance. “I’m all right. I’m not going to do anything stupid. Just… just let me have some time.”

Guy was the first one to rise. “Whatever you need, James.” He leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the cheek. “You know I’m not far away, you need anything. I’ll call you later.” He gestured for the other two to follow him, which they did, reluctantly, with promises of calls and emails and delivery food, whether she wanted it or not.

When the door closed behind the trio, James collapsed against it, relieved by the silence of the apartment. The pile of goodies beside the door taunted her but she wasn’t quite ready to deal with them yet. Instead, she headed to the bedroom, planning to change her clothes.

Once there, James found herself staring at a closet of clothes that she suddenly hated. Things that she had loved when she bought them – dresses, skirts, blouses, silk things – now made her want to rend them into unrecognizable shreds. High-heeled shoes and strappy sandals sitting on the floor did nothing but piss her off.

Without being aware of it, she started pulling clothes off of the hangers, throwing them into piles on the floor. Shoes landed on top of the clothing, then she went to work on the underwear drawer. Hundreds of dollars spent at Victoria’s Secret joined the growing stack of unwanted garments.

James didn’t know how long she went at this. All she knew was that by the time she was done, her closet was threadbare and her drawers were all but empty. She had left herself with a handful of 501 jeans, something she only wore when working on the apartment or doing something that required sturdy clothing, a small collection of men’s shirts she had somehow gathered over the years, and one pair of old battered red cowboy boots that had been buried in the back of the closet. She remembered buying those boots when she was about 25, thinking they were sexy and cool. She didn’t know when she decided that Jimmy Cho’s were sexier than these. She slid her feet into the leather boots, appreciating the way the leather embraced her, almost feeling as though she was wearing nothing.

She looked in the mirror, seeing a woman that no longer looked like James Mercer. The James Mercer of old would have never donned the rumbled, embroidered man’s shirt, the slightly worn 501’s and the boots unless forced at knifepoint. But somehow, this outfit suited the new and improved James Mercer. Life after death, James thought to herself. This is what it is. Life after death. Although…

She went into the bathroom, grabbing a pair of scissors as she went. Once there, she flipped on the light and stood before the mirror, contemplating. She always liked her long hair. It now went to the middle of her back. It was a great color – auburny reddish with blonde shot through it. It was something most women tried to get out of a box but she was lucky enough to have been blessed with a weird mix of heritage that resulted in this wondrous color. Now, however, the length didn’t seem to go with her new look. Too flirty, too soft, too… too much what she had been.

Before she knew it, the bathroom floor was piled with clippings and her hair was cropped to her ears. She’d have to get someone to clean it up but it wasn’t too bad. Suited her much better now, her sleeker, leaner, meaner look, she thought.

She wandered back through her very feminine bedroom and sighed. Too much to do in order to make this space workable.

She went back out into the living room area, spotting her workspace, which took up a sizeable portion of the room. Her laptop, printer and reference books were the only thing in the apartment that still felt like her. Great, she thought, at least I can still write, maybe. She had made a modest living as a novelist, writing simple, straightforward tales about women she had known, slightly fictionalized, and the woman that she had been. She always drew from her life, as most novelists do. Now what would she write? About blackness and pinpoints of light and strange voices whispering to her in the dark? She’d have to think about that.

Serena had gathered her mail while she was in the hospital and it sat neatly on her desk. James flipped through it, mostly junk mail, then opened her bank statement. The numbers look good. She was never great at balancing her checkbook but that’s what she had an accountant for. That, and to manage her trust fund. While her parents had not been filthy rich, they had made some nice investments before their deaths, leaving her with enough money to do as she pleased. And writing pleased her and allowed her to let the trust fund just sit and build.

Contemplating the balance in the bank, James thought, I should move. I can afford it. She looked again to the stack of things at the door. Leave the memories behind. Start over again. This place just doesn’t fit anymore. Like my shoes, like my clothes, like my life.

Life after death, baby, that’s what it’s all about.

Chapter One - The End - cont'd

“James?”

She knew that was her name. She didn’t want to open her eyes. Maybe they’d go away.

“Jameson?”

Stop saying that, she wanted to cry, but the tube in her throat wouldn’t let her.

“James, sweetie, say something.”

She knew that voice. Don’t think of the name because then you won’t be able to let it go. Too late. Serena. It was Serena.

“I don’t know what to tell you. She shouldn’t be doing this.” Don’t know that voice, she thought.

“It’s a miracle.” Serena.

“Well, I don’t know about that…” Must be a doctor. That must mean I’m in a hospital. Shit. It didn’t work.

Against her better wishes, James struggled to open her eyes. She wanted them to look at her and into her eyes and know that she didn’t want to be here.

But as her lids lifted, the first thing she saw was Serena. Her solid, unflappable best friend who had seen her through the rough times and the wonderful times. And Serena was crying, tears pouring down her cheeks. Her eyes filled with love and hope and pain and so many things James couldn’t read. Serena gasped as she realized that James had opened her eyes.

“James?”

James wanted suddenly to smile but the muscles in her face wouldn’t work.

“James?” The other voice was on the other side of the bed. With a huge effort, she turned her gaze that way and met the flecked green eyes of her other best friend, Guy. A man always filled with joy who had given her such pleasure and taken care of her along with Serena now gazed down at her with such pain and such loss in his eyes that it broke her heart.

She found the strength to stretch her fingers out and touch Guy’s hand. Without any thought, Guy intertwined his fingers with hers, then realized what that meant.
“James?” Guy whispered, afraid to believe it.

James still couldn’t find her voice but tightened her fingers around his. Her smiles wouldn’t work so she willed her eyes to say everything. Then she saw it. The joy returned to his sea foam green eyes.

“Welcome back.”

**********************

“Your recovery has been… well… astounding.”

James sat on the edge of the hospital bed, dressed in clean clothes provided by Serena, twitching and tapping her feet. She was ready to go home. Two days under observation was two days too many. The doctors kept flashing lights in her eyes, drawing more blood, sending her for numerous tests over and over again, then standing and shaking their heads over the results. She wanted to just get the hell out and go home.

“I mean, you came in with your major organs virtually shut down. You were clinically dead. You shouldn’t have recovered so quickly.”

“Nice bedside manner, doc.”

“Sorry. I’ve just never seen anybody recover like this after such…”

Serena and Guy saved James from more doctoring by appearing in the doorway.

“She ready to go home, doc?” Guy asked, coming over to sit next to James on the bed. The doctor looked over her chart again, then finally tossed it on the bed.

“Absolutely. Just make sure you come in if you have any effects…”

“I know, dizziness, nausea, yada, yada, yada. Let’s blow this joint.”

Just then, a nurse came into the room and took the chart from the doctor.

“Glad you’re still here, Ms. Mercer. I just need to do one last check of your vitals for your chart.” She reached her hand out and touched her fingers to James’ wrist.
Immediately, James knew that the woman’s boyfriend was cheating on her and that the woman knew this and that the woman knew that her boyfriend knew. James could see their life in front of her eyes, the lies, the silences, the tension. Stunned, the loneliness and aching and torture of the situation filled James. She took the woman’s hand and looked deep into her eyes.

“You need to go. You have to go.” The nurse looked at James, somehow understanding what she was talking about. The others in the room didn’t seem to notice the exchange.

“I know,” the nurse said, “but it’s just…”

James took her hand again. “You have to go now. It’s not going to get better.”

James could see how much of an understatement that was. Her “visions” or whatever had also shown her a glimpse of the nurse, battered and bleeding, and the other woman standing over her. “Pack tonight. There’s not much time.”

The nurse made a note in the chart, eyes James warily, then left. As soon as she was gone, James felt the pain and hopelessness leave her, giving her an infusion of energy.

James leapt off the bed, feeling stronger than she remembered feeling in years. She was only 32 but some days felt like she was 50. Today, she felt more than 16. She grabbed her purse and was out the door before the doctor could finish his sentence about her needing a wheelchair to be discharged. Guy and Serena joyfully scampered after her.

James pounded on the elevator button, anxious to get outside and breathe, to get away from this place, to try to figure out her life.

She felt a presence behind her and turned. The same man who had whispered to her while she was dying was standing there. He smiled enigmatically and she couldn’t help herself – she returned the smile.

“You are looking much better.”

“Thank you.” She knew immediately that it was the voice that she had heard while she was in the dark place. It was his voice that had brought her back.

“You have been given a blessing and a curse.” She realized that he wasn’t speaking English but she didn’t know what language he was speaking. She wasn’t surprised that she understood him, though.

“You will avenge your wounds, your pain. You will share this with others. It is your blessing and your curse.”

“I don’t want it.”

“There is no choice.”

“There’s always choice.”

“You will return to that place, that peace, when true love returns to you.”

He took her face gently in his hands, kissing her chastely on the cheek. His gnarled hands closed over hers and he walked away. James looked into her fist. He had placed an amulet there, shaped vaguely like a heart, with a “W” embedded in its center.

Guy and Serena finally caught up with her.

“James, you really should have waited for…” Serena followed James’ gaze but didn’t see the stranger disappear around the corner. “You okay?”

James pounded on the elevator button again. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

Chapter One - The End

She was very organized, very thorough, very prepared. That’s what people always told her. She didn’t think so but apparently the world did. But her compulsion did come in handy at times like this.

She opened the pharmacy shopping bag and lined up the bottles. She bought extra, just to be sure. After all, she was thorough, she was prepared. She wasn’t sure how many it would take so she wanted to make sure that she did this right.
She sat in her favorite chair, the capsules in a little bowl so they wouldn’t spill. She had several glasses of water, figuring it might take more than one. And a large glass of wine, just because. She wore something pretty but not revealing, something comfortable. After all, at a time like this, one didn’t want to be uncomfortable, did one?

She took the first handful, then the second, and so on. She started with the water but then found herself taking huge gulps of the wine. She thought the pills must be working because she almost couldn’t feel the tears streaming down her face.
She watched in detached fascination as the wine goblet slipped from her fingers and shattered in slow motion on the floor in front of her. That’s interesting, she thought, I thought it would break differently than that. Like my heart.
Her cell phone chose that moment to sing to her. She couldn’t remember whose ring that particular song was so she swung her hand over and groped for the device. Serena Harrison, her best friend, sending her a text message. She sighed. Serena knew she hated text messages. Because she couldn’t help herself, she struggled to flip open the phone and read the last message she would ever get from her friend. “How R U?” read the little missive.

She looked around her clean but cluttered apartment. Not too good, she thought. She saw the small pile of mementos she had gathered by the door. Not too good at all. She was going to throw them out when she next left the apartment. But now, she realized that she wouldn’t be leaving the apartment again, at least not under her own power.

Suddenly, she didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want this at all. How had she gotten to this? How do I stop it?

Her fingers were lazy and slow and couldn’t quite seem to find the letters on the keypad. She finally managed to hit “reply” and started blurrily at the tiny, little, smeary screen on her phone. What did she want to say? What could she say to “How R U?”

She typed the only thing she could manage.

“Help.”

******************

Wow, the ceiling’s a funny color, was the first thought in her head. I don’t remember the ceiling being that color. Then she noticed several other things. The bustle of activity dressed in white coats around her, the dulled echo of machines humming around her, and the fact that she could not move.

The voices were muffled and unintelligible. She wanted to scream out to them but they didn’t seem to notice she was awake. But then again, she wasn’t sure she was awake. She realized that she was watching all the activity from the corner of the room, including observing someone with very cold hands inject something into the IV hanging from the side of her bed.

So this is what it’s like to be dead, she thought.

******************

Serena Harrison ran up to the nurse’s station, her corkscrew hair flying wildly behind her.

“James Mercer, tell me where I can find James Mercer.”

Right on her heels, Guy Burns, a heavy-set, adorable man in his mid-30's, charged up behind her.

“Is James here?”

The nurse peered up through her bifocals. “What’s the name?”

“James Mercer,” Serena snapped.

The nurse studied the computer screen in front of her for a moment then shook her head. “He’s not registered.”

“She,” Guy interjected.

“What?”

“He’s a she… I mean, it’s not a James as in a man, it’s a James as in a woman. See, her father wanted a son so he named her Jameson before her mother could tell him it was a girl…”

Serena interceded. “Try Jameson Mercer.”

The nurse clacked a couple of keys. “She’s in intensive care. Sixth floor. Are either of you relatives?”

Serena grabbed Guy’s arm and dragged him away with her. “We’re the closest she’s got.”

***********************

Serena paced outside of the ICU doors, having a hard time keeping herself from just charging through and hunting James down herself. Finally, the doors swung open and Guy came out.

“She’s… she’s…” His green eyes filled with tears and he just shook his head. Serena couldn’t speak. She looked over his shoulder and could see the room where he had just come out of. Somehow, he had convinced a doctor to let him in to see James. He’d been gone for a while. Now, this is what he comes out with.

“I want to see her.” James just shook his head, took her hand. “Guy, I have to see her.” Again with the head shaking. Serena nodded, then stepped away. Then she simply walked around him and straight through the doors, leaving him to scramble behind her.

James was paler than her sheet, her hair in disarray. Her eyes were closed but deep, dark circles ringed them. Machines did their jobs around her and she was so incredibly still. Serena held her breathe until she saw the sheet rise and fall, slowly, unevenly, but at least she was breathing.

Guy moved past Serena and took James’ hand.

“The doctor said she probably won’t wake up. She did a lot of damage. She’s not gonna…” He couldn’t finish. He just stared at her deceptively peaceful face, holding her hand, his eyes searching for any sign of life. “He said talk to her. She might hear us. At least maybe we could give her some peace before…” His words choked off and he almost crumpled. But he held on, barely.

“That can’t be. It’s James. She just can’t…” But Guy was beyond hearing. He pulled a chair up and sat as close as he could manage. Serena realized that he was whispering very quietly, stroking her hand gently. She could hardly make out what he was saying. She did hear him say, “I love you” and that almost crippled her.

“I don’t accept this. I’m gonna find someone.”

Serena stormed out of the door.

Once outside the room, Serena collapsed against the wall, unable to breathe. Her best friend was going to die. She couldn’t even think that.

She spotted a doctor coming towards the room and pulled herself together. He spotted her, slowing as he approached.

“Are you a relative of Ms. Mercer’s?” Serena just nodded. “I’m sorry. I have bad news for you.” He was very nice, he was very cute and Serena wanted to rip his head off as he explained in lay terms what was happening. Hours, pills, internal organs, stuff she couldn’t fathom. His hand gently closed on her upper arm. “Is there someone else you should call?”

Serena suddenly put it together. “Has there been anyone else to see her?”

The doctor shook his head. “Just you and her brother.” He gestured towards Guy through the window of the door. Serena just shook her head.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.” The doctor walked away, leaving Serena to cope with her pending loss.
Serena looked through the window in the door, watching Guy’s lips move as he continued to keep up his monologue. Her heart broke at the pain in his eyes. He had been as good of a friend to James as she herself had been. Serena always suspected that Guy and James were met for each other but they seemed to be content to just be best friends. To each his own, she often thought. Now, she thought it was too bad that they hadn’t gotten together, because then, she wouldn’t have been with that maggot disguised as a man who had apparently finished destroying her, after months of perfecting his technique.

Finally, the wall around her emotions came crashing down and Serena found herself sinking to the floor, overwhelmed. She tried to hold back the sobs but couldn’t. So she just let them out and let the hallway echo with her pain.

A hand settled on her shoulder and Serena found herself looking up into dark, mesmerizing eyes. A dark man stood over her, his face filled with compassion, his deep eyes taking her in.

“You need some help?” His accent was indistinguishable and his age inestimable. Serena could only nod. “Someone in here?” She nodded again. He held out a hand and helped her to her feet. He kissed her cheek gently then smiled. “All will be well.” He put a finger to his lips then quickly walked into the room, leaving Serena behind.

***********************

Guy watched this stranger come up to James’ bed, unable to even ask what he was doing there. The man seemed gentle and unthreatening. Warmth seemed to emanate from him as he got to the bedside. He smiled gently down at James then back to Guy.

“She was hurt?” Guy nodded. “By love, so it seems.” Guy nodded again. “So sad.” The man touched her still face, his fingertips seeming to softly explore the contours there. “So, so sad.”

He leaned in to her ear, and Guy could hear him murmuring. Just then, Serena stepped quietly into the room, locking eyes with Guy and hearing the whispers of the stranger. The stranger stood up, reached over to pat Guy on the hand. “All will be well, my son. She will come back to you.”

He walked out the door before Serena could stop him. She caught him just outside the door. “What did you say?”

The stranger turned to Serena, his eyes now darker, his demeanor slightly more hard. “He will pay, the one who did this.” Then his eyes softened. “She will return. She will be different. But she will return.”

“What did you say to her?”

“Blessing and curse, she will be both. She will find both. She will find her way.”

Then the stranger walked away.

**********************

It had been dark for what seemed like forever. She had heard noises and sounds but they were getting softer and harder to hear. She thought she heard someone tell her that they loved her. She hoped it was him but knew it wasn’t. He told her that he didn’t, that he never did. That’s what led to all of this.

She felt at peace, like she was floating in warm air, currents swirling around her, making her feel safe, released, comforted. She was ready. This is what she had wanted.

Then she heard it. The sound of a voice, gentle, barely audible. The words were unintelligible. She thought it might be a foreign language but everything sounded foreign right now. But she was drawn to the voice. She wanted to resist it but couldn’t. The peace and the comfort she felt was being pulled away as she was drawn to the voice.

“Leave me alone,” she wanted to scream. “I’m okay, I’m fine, just leave me alone.” But the whispers continued and she pulled back through the darkness.
Now she could hear a clearer voice. She knew the voice but couldn’t think of the name it belonged to. She heard, “I love you” and she wondered who could be saying that. Her parents were long gone, she had few friends. And he was gone or, rather, he had made her go.

Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled through the darkness and pinpoints of light scattered in front of her. She wanted to fight it but couldn’t. Then she heard a gasp and realized that it was her. The pain returned, the hate returned, the devastation returned. And she knew that she was back.