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Flashes-Part Three

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brotheroddkins View Drop Down
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Joined: February/27/2007
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    Posted: July/10/2008 at 1:26am
Here is the final part. Enjoy!

The van that I was in stopped suddenly and I figured that we were at our destination. The woman that had been torturing me seemed to be gone. I could still feel pain in my crotch. I would never have children ever again. Not that I planned on it. I tried to brace the floor so that I could somehow sit up. I knew that I couldn’t walk. Not after the bastards took out my kneecaps. I slid up to the wall of the van and managed to pick myself up and sat against it. I looked around but it was an ordinary van. No one seemed to be in the front of the vehicle, so we were stopped somewhere. Where, I wasn’t sure. I sat and waited.
*   *   *
     After I found my mother in the trunk of her car, I left her house. I made sure to turn off all the lights and lock the door. I drove away from the house, trying to keep all my tears underneath the surface of my eyes. I drove and drove, but I knew that I couldn’t go home. I drove through the center of town and out toward Wood Lake. I started to remember summers that my mother and I would spend at Wood Lake. My father was always working during the summer, so we would go with him on the weekends. But mostly it was my mother and I.
     I could see the sign for the lake just ahead as I turned down a small dirt road. We had a small cabin by the lake until my father passed away and I had my mother sell it. I hadn’t been to the lake in the longest time. I had never taken Jacob to the lake and never would. So many things had gone wrong. So many things.
     I finally made it to the lake and parked the car. I turned off the engine and sat in the car. I tried to catch my breath, since I had been running on pure adrenaline this whole time. The moon showed on the lake. Like a phantom coming to greet me. I got out of the car and slipped my shoes off. I waded into the water and shocked by the cold of it. I jumped in swimming out to deeper waters. If I could’ve drowned myself, I probably would have. I went under the water, keeping my eyes open. I watched the moon as it floated over me. I came up and took a huge breath. Why? How did I let this get this out of hand? The saddest thing about my mother being killed is she wouldn’t have known why. She had known nothing of my dealings in New York City or Miami or even Los Angeles. She knew nothing of the things I had done. Jacob was what had changed me. But I knew I couldn’t have left the people I had worked for that easily. But I had hoped, nothing bad would happen. I wish I hadn’t been wrong.
     I walked out of the lake and back to shore. I was angry at myself. At the people who had done this. I ripped off my shirt. I needed to hurt myself. I took out a pocket knife I kept on my key chain and cut across my chest. It hurt like hell, at first, but then a sense of calm came over me. Like, I had been drugged. I steadied my breathing and wiped the blood away with my shirt. I felt some of the pain I felt fall away. I needed to hurt physically, so that my inner pain would go away. I hopped back in the car and put it in reverse. I turned toward the trees. I put the pedal down to the floor and braced myself for the impact. When the car hit the first tree, I smacked my chest into the steering wheel. It knocked the wind out of me. I thought maybe I had broken my breast bone. The car eventually lodged itself in the nook of two trees and I blacked out.
*   *   *
     After that black out was when I woke up in my house, looking up at my fan. Now, sitting this van, I figured that the people after me had been tailing me. I sat in the van, waiting for my end. I wanted it now. All my life I had the strangest anxiety about death. Now, after losing everything I had, I welcomed death. I wanted it with the glee that a child wants a new toy. With death all the pain would stop.
     Memories started flooding my mind. My first bicycle. I had been red and green. I remember riding it all around the town. My first dog, Champ. He was a mutt but I loved him so much. The memory of his death, one summer, brought tears to my eyes. I remembered my best friend in high school, Harry Tilsdale. I remembered when I lost my virginity in the back of Harry’s Mustang to Tess Dole, who was the most popular cheerleader in school. And I remembered the next day when I told her that was all she was good for. Even though I hadn’t meant it. I was trying to impress the guys.
     Then, memories of Jacob came flooding in. His birth and the overwhelming joy of looking at someone who would love me unconditionally. His first steps. His first words (happy and dada). I couldn’t take anymore. My mind was killing me. I didn’t want to remember anymore. But, then the memory of holding him in my arms as the life was taken from him, crippled me. I started weeping. I didn’t want to live like this anymore, remembering these things.
     The back doors of the van opened and the man with all the tattoos came into view. Then, next to him the crazy woman that crushed my balls. She giggled hysterically.
     “You crying. How sad.” She said. I glared at her from underneath my tears. That made her laugh even more. The tattoo man tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and glared at him.
     “Yeah, yeah.” She replied to his unspoken statement. She came into the van and grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the vehicle. A wheelchair awaited me, outside of the van. She plopped me in it. I looked around. The tattoo man closed the doors of the van and joined us, as the woman pushed the wheelchair. A building was in front of us. It said, ‘Dawson Mental Facility,’ on the side of the building. That meant we were in Dawson Village, a town just fifty miles from Wood River. The facility was abandoned, had been for some years.
     I was wheeled up the ramp and through double doors. The inside of the place smelled like mold and urine. Two scents that should never be mixed. We went down a long hallway and past a ton of rooms. We came to the end of the corridor and turned down another. This one ended in a set of doors, which we went through. The doors lead to a room filled with ammunition and a few remnants of hospital equipment. Sitting in a metal chair was a man I knew very well. His name was Dante Colon. He was the son of the man I had worked for in New York City and Miami. I owed the Colon family money, which was not good. The man looked at me as we entered the room. He had deep blue eyes. He was just as I remembered him. Long and lanky and with a head of dirty blonde hair.
     “Stanley. Nice to see you again.” He said as we approached.
     “Nice to be seen.” I replied. He glared at me but unlike him, he gave no answer back.
     “We have some unfinished business, you and I.” He said.
     “What’s that?”
     “Smart ass until the end, right, Stanley?”
     “You know it.” The tattoo man then tipped the wheelchair over, dumping on the floor. I smacked my head on the tiled floor. The woman laughed.
     “Swan, what was that for?” Dante asked tattoo man. Like usual the man said nothing.
     “Stanley. I believe my friend Swan doesn’t like insolence from the likes of you. On the floor where you belong.” Dante said to me.
     “Screw him and screw you, too.” I replied. This was answered with a kick to my groin by the woman. She laughed as I grabbed my stomach.
     “Betsy”
     “What? He was being ins. . . . , whatever you said.” The woman went and sat on a gurney that was still in the room.
     “So, Stanley. Where is my money?”
     “I don’t have your money, you bastard.” I replied. Dante looked at me and smiled. He pulled out a gun and shot me in the arm. I yelped like a dog.
     “You son of a bitch ” I screamed at him.
     “Now, that wasn’t very nice.” Dante said. I grabbed my arm. The blood from the wound slipped through the cracks in my fingers. Betsy laughed. Swan said nothing.
     “I don’t have your goddamned money ”
     “I believe you. But I need some kind of compensation.”
     “You’ve already taken everything I have. My son, my mother, my legs, and my balls. What more do you want?” I replied.
     “I find it funny that you didn’t mention your ex and your arm.” Dante countered.
     “Go to hell ”
     “Someday, but not right now. That’s right. I’ve come to relish the thought of an afterlife in hell. I almost want it.” He told me and motioned for Swan.
     “Take me him to another room. I have to decide what to do with him.” The tall man picked me up and deposited me back in the wheelchair. I was wheeled around and out of the room.

     They put me in an old exam room. They just wheeled me into the middle of the room and left me there. The room gave me the most uneasy feeling of all. I knew my time was up. That was when Jacob came to me. He walked through the door and kneeled in front of me.
     “What is it, Tiger?”
     “You have to finish it.”
     “Finish what?”
     “The sand castle.” He said. I nodded knowing exactly what he meant. I wheeled to the door and picked out by opening it just a little bit. I saw Swan standing outside the doors guarding. He stood right in front of them. I wheeled back from the doors, far back, and with everything I have, I went headlong into the doors. Swan went down and knocked his head on the tiled floor. I wheeled over and saw that blood was coming out. Bending down, I searched him for a weapon. Finding a knife, a huge hunting knife, I took it and put it on my lap. I wheeled away and down the hallway that we had just come down. I looked around and could see no one. I heard a scream and Betsy was on me.
     “You killed Swan ” She screamed and kept hitting me in the head. I grabbed the knife and stabbed at the air, not knowing exactly where she was. Then she stopped hitting me. I heard a thump behind me and when I wheeled around she was lying on the floor. I could see the knife in her chest. I had not even noticed that it wasn’t in my hand. Then I noticed that she had a gun. I bent and took that. I kept wheeling down the hall toward the room that Dante was in.

     I came to the doors of the room where Dante was housed in. I moved the doors slightly with my wheelchair and peeked inside. Dante was sitting, his back facing the door. I pushed open the doors and fired the gun. He toppled backwards. He wasn’t dead and I knew it. I wheeled over and looked down at him. He was dying but far from death. He looked at me.
     “Why?”
     “You took everything from me. Now I take everything from you.” I replied. That was when he shot me, in the chest. The wheelchair went back a few inches from the impact. Everything became blurry and I could see Jacob in the periphery of my vision. I reached out to him and he grabbed my hand.
*   *   *
     “Daddy, look.” Jacob says and I look up from my chair. He is in the process of making a sand castle. I can see my mother lounging in a chair some ways down.
     “That’s great, Tiger.” I reply.
     “Can you help me finish it?”
     “I sure can. We have all the time in the world. Grandma could probably help us, too.” He smiles as I get up and join him in the sand.
Reading: The Shadow Rising by Robert Jordan & Urban Gothic by Brian Keene


That is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange aeons even death may die.
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Paolo Macachor View Drop Down
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Paolo Macachor Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: July/20/2008 at 2:31am
Very ethereal... I like it!

SPOILERS













Everyone can relate to life after death.
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brotheroddkins View Drop Down
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote brotheroddkins Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: July/24/2008 at 2:30am
Thanks! Had a hard time with the ending but I thought it seemed fitting.
Reading: The Shadow Rising by Robert Jordan & Urban Gothic by Brian Keene


That is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange aeons even death may die.
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