Deborah leaned back and
stared up at the starry sky above her, the chattering voices of
those around her mingled with the light breeze. Her eyes started to
blink closed, slowly then assuredly shut themselves. She found
herself drifting, drifting above herself, her body floating above and
outside herself. Looking down, she saw herself and her friends about
her, talking in the idle chatter of drunken mirth of close friends,
but she floated above, flying higher and higher until her friends,
the crow's nest, the bar itself, were a dark memory firmly below on
the earth's surface. Suddenly, she found herself in the upper
stratosphere, surrounded by the inky night and star lights, floating,
floating like a magical carpet softly through the air. Slowly, and
without warning, her body began to drift downward, then picking up
speed she shot towards a small house on the outskirts of town.
Downward she flew, fear overtook her as she found herself plummeting
faster and faster towards the roof of the house. She screamed an
echoless scream, searching for ways to stop herself, save herself.
Suddenly, the roof was upon her and she braced for impact, her life
and all that it was flashed before her as she prayed to a God she
hoped existed that she would be saved, rescued, or even taken up to
heaven, if it too existed.
As she came upon the roof,
she inhaled nervously but then found herself carefully and
mysteriously drifting through the roof, the attic, the pink gooey
inner lining of the wall, and came out clean and fresh upon the floor
of a small living room, filled with boxes, self-painted art work, a
tattered and worn couch, an older TV set, and music station. She
stood righting herself and looking around anxiously, trying to figure
out where she was, how she had got there, and preparing for herself
for what could happen next. Looking around, she saw a small
bookcase, filled to the brim with books of various sizes and shapes,
pushed here and there inside of it. On the top was a picture frame,
Deborah moved towards it and picked it up, examining it. There were
two people pictured, one she saw was James whose arms wrapped around
the girl from her dreams...
“Eve,” whispered
Deborah. Light footsteps sounded behind her and a soft voice spoke.
“Yes, its me,” and
Deborah turned and faced a girl that looked so much like herself.
The girl from her dreams and her visions, standing before her fully
formed and fully alive.
“But, you're dead, I
thought,” Deborah shook her head in confusion.
“This is only the moment
before,” Eve explained.
“The moment before...,”
Deborah echoed.
“Yes, it is about to
happen, you'll see it all, just like I told you,” Eve explained.
“These are my last moments of being alive.”
Eve moved close to Deborah,
who could smell her sweet aroma wafting over towards her. Eve
brushed Deborah's hair back from her eyes and leaned in close.
She whispered, “Never give
up the fight and always remember, I believe in you.”
Eve kissed her on the
forehead just as the door pounded behind her. Eve pulled back,
looked deep into Deborah's eyes, horror filled her eyes. Deborah
felt that horror in her heart. She gripped Eve's wrist tight and
whispered back,
“Be strong, I'm with you.”
The door swung open and in
the frame stood James, an angry frown across his face, his eyes
burning with rage. Deborah gasped, she had never seen him like this
nor thought he could ever have been like this, so sweet and gentle he
had always been. James moved into the room and scowled at Eve. His
eyes flickered over at the bookshelf, Deborah froze in terror at his
angry glare, but he seemed to look through her, unseeing. She was
invisible to him then, she realized, not here in his perspective.
This was something that had happened already, a moment in the past...
“Um, you want to sit? You
want a drink or something?” Eve was saying, somewhere in the
distance.
“No,” he said gruffly
and stared at her hard. She sat on the edge of the sofa and sighed
heavily.
“James, I have something
to tell you,” she began slowly. He continued staring at her,
trying to read her thoughts and to her it felt like he was trying to
intimidate her.
“Yeah?” he said at last.
“The paperwork came back
from the DA's office,” she began and sighed again. “Um, its
official.”
“Aha,” he said, nodding.
“You happy?”
“Not really, I mean,”
was all she said and stared hard at the ground. Absentmindedly, her
hand reached up to her neck and she fingered a necklace. He saw a
glint of silver hanging from the chain and then recognized what it
was, their wedding rings hanging side by side. He grunted at that.
She looked up at him, smiling sadly, he thought, mockingly. Then,
she unclasped the chain from around her neck and held the necklace
out to him, the rings dangled off the chain between them, somewhat
symbolically. “Maybe you should have this.”
She stood holding it out to
him and he stared at her, penetrating her with his eyes. He moved
towards her slowly, slowly, slowly. She inhaled hard and held her
breath, then released it, as if gasping for air.
Deborah's eyes grew wide
with terror, watching as James snatched the necklace with the two
rings away from Eve's outstretched hand and moved towards her. He
leaned over her on the couch, the necklace dangling in one hand.
“I'll give you something
to be sorry about,” he began, his fist clenched towards her. Eve
screamed silently, raising her hands to her face in fear. He pulled
her arms away from her face and held the necklace up to her eyes.
“You want this? Come on, wear it, bitch.”
He wrapped the chain around
Eve's neck and pulled. Eve gasped, clutching the air for oxygen, her
eyes bursting from her face. He shoved a knee into her stomach and
pushed her down on the couch, all the while pulling harder and
harder. Unthinking, Deborah moved to the couch, behind James, and
screamed for him to stop.
“James, stop it, don't do
this, James!” She grabbed at his arm and felt it move through his
skin, through the muscles, sinews, veins, arteries, bones. She
pulled back in shock over the sensation and realization that she
could no nothing, that there was nothing she could do to save Eve, it
had already happened.
James dropped Eve's lifeless
body onto the couch, pulling the chain from around her neck, and
turned to face Deborah, not seeing her. He held up the chain in
front of his face, scanned it wordlessly and without emotion, then
placed it around his neck, quickly clasping it. He stepped forward,
passing through Deborah. She felt a coldness and an emptiness she
had never imagined existed, especially from someone she loved so
much. He hesitated at the door, as if he too had felt something, but
then he opened the door, letting the cold, harsh sunlight of November
spill into the house, before slamming it shut behind him.
Deborah looked down at Eve's
body, wilted against the fabric of the couch. A tear escaped from
her eyes and a muffled sob from her throat. Then, slowly she began
ascending upwards, back through the roof, up into the starry sky,
then down into her body laying prostate on the deck of the crow's
nest at the bar, her friends gathered around her nervously calling
her name over and over.
Her eyes flickered open to
see the faces of Matthew, Shaggy, Thomas, Ray, and James framed
around her.
“Deborah, Deborah,”
Matthew was saying and she was touched by the concern in his voice.
If only, she thought to herself but couldn't find the rest of the
thought to follow only a sense of loss and longing mingled together.
James face swam into view and she bit her lip to restrain from
screaming, panic rising to the forefront of her brain, pushing away
the sense of comfort that Matthew exuded. A chain dangled from his
neck catching the moonlight, two rings fell across his chest.
Deborah saw and remembered. With horror, she pushed James away and
panicking cried, “Matthew, Matthew, where are you? I need you.”
Matthew pushed the others
aside and reached for her, pulling her into his arms. She collapsed
into them and frantically whispered,
“Call the police, I know
who did it.”
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