Rage in Pain Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 2

by Kris Johnston

  Then I sighed. The ugliness he'd brought into my life, into Roz’s life, hadn't truly been his doing. I understood that now. He'd simply been a means, a power tool, used by his mother to destroy and rebuild, and destroy again. I could see this as clearly as I could see Parker’s face looking back at me.

  “I'm so sorry, buddy,” I whispered to my reflection, my voice full of pity and sadness. “You never stood a chance against her, did you?”

  Poor bastard.

  ***

  Later that night, I was lying on my bed trying to focus on the “reality” TV show before me. Prudence had thought it wise for me to become better acquainted with this current world. As a ghost, my experiences through Roz had helped a lot in acclimating myself, as did the first week of school. But, I was still green in terms of the modern day, and Prudence believed watching the television would help me.

  I stared at the heavily-made up women who looked like they were made of plastic, and chuckled. Who on earth would find these women attractive? They all wore dresses so tight and short it left nothing to the imagination whatsoever, and they each had lips that were so big it looked like they'd all suffered the same deformity.

  After about ten minutes of watching, I couldn't take it anymore and grabbed the remote, trying my best to remember which one changed the channel. I pressed a button and the home screen appeared. I pressed another and it took me back to same channel as before. I pressed a third and it went to the next channel, and then the next, and I smiled.

  Found it!

  Before I knew it, I had discovered several movie and music channels, and I flipped through them quickly until landing on something I could enjoy- “Oldies Music.”

  I sighed and laid back, watching the black and white image of Elvis Presley pop up on screen. The sounds of Are You Lonesome Tonight filled my room.

  Are you lonesome tonight,

  Do you miss me tonight?

  Are you sorry we drifted apart?

  Does your memory stray

  to a bright, sunny day

  When I kissed you

  and called you sweetheart?

  I immediately thought of Roz. The sweet image of her face filled my vision, and I wanted so badly to reach out and touch her.

  What are you doing right now? I asked her silently, every bone in this body aching for her. I miss you so much. I promise my darling, I won't rest until you know who I really am.

  Overcome with a sudden exhaustion brought on by this terrible feeling of loneliness, I wrapped myself up in my blankets and stared at the ceiling.

  I promise Roz… I promise….

  The words floated through my mind as the music played on. Lulled by the sorrow of the lyrics sung by The King, and the melancholy of my soul, I fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 10

  ~Roz~

  That weekend, something unexpected happened that I didn't anticipate. My dreams came back.

  After months of not dreaming, or at least, not remembering them, that weekend I was hit with dreams left and right. It was almost as if my brain had been storing them up all summer and now they overflowed. Of course, they were just as real as they ever were, and my blood pulsed and exploded in my veins at how lifelike they felt.

  It all began (or re-started, for lack of a better word), that Saturday. I had spent much of the evening texting with my big foster-brother, Drew, teasing him about a blind date he was going on.

  Me: So who is this blind guy that's taking you out tonight?

  Drew: Not a blind guy, dork. It's a BLIND DATE.

  Me: That's irrelevant and you’re evading my question.

  Drew: All questions from you about my love life should be evaded.

  Me: Come on man. Help a sista out.

  Drew: Since when did you become a sista?

  Me: Since I learned how to crunk.

  Drew: OMG please stop now!

  Me: Tell me about this blind guy or I'm coming to the coffee shop tomorrow and showing you and all your customers how well I crunk.

  Drew: LOL I'd love to see that, actually! Now stop it, your questions are making me nervous.

  Me: Tell me.

  Drew: Let me get ready for Chrissake!

  Me: Ohhhhh is that his name? Chris Sake? I'm googling him!

  Drew: OMG You know my phone autocorrects Christ’s sake into Chrissake! For the love of… what am I going to do with you?!

  Me: Tell me!!!

  Drew: FINE! He sent a pic this morning so I would know who to look for at the restaurant tonight. Girl! He's dreamy! He's my age, light skin, dark eyes, dark hair, and delish. And hello, muscles!

  Me: His name please.

  Drew: Why do you need his name?

  Me: So I know what to tell the cops in case you go missing after tonight.

  Drew: OMG Bonnie is rubbing off on you, I see.

  Me: Word.

  Drew: Smh. Fine. It's Ezekiel Wiles. Zeke for short.

  Me: There, was that so bad? Of course it wasn't. What are you wearing for Mr. Zeke?

  Drew: No, no way. You are NOT giving me fashion advice! I'm putting my foot down on this one! Hello, I'm a beautiful black, gay man. I know fashion better than you!

  Me: LOL! I knew that would rile you. You're so fun to play with big bro!

  Drew: I'm going now before you give me a panic attack. Love you little sis XO

  Me: Hehe, love you too, have fun tonight!

  I laughed at our exchange, mentally noting the name Ezekiel Wiles. Then I realized what I was doing and snorted.

  I am turning into Bonnie, he was right!

  I told myself to leave Drew alone tonight, but I couldn't wait to text him in the morning. I couldn't wait to hear the details of his hot date, he'd been waiting to find someone for so long, and I hoped this was the start of something wonderful for him.

  He deserved it, especially after the pain of losing his mama.

  Drew had suffered silently in the weeks that followed her passing. He hadn't come over for our weekly family dinner like he was supposed to. He hadn't returned my messages. I think it was Bonnie who must've spurred him out of it, because one day during the summer I distinctly remember hearing her say she was going into town for a coffee, and after that day, he was all over the place.

  Namely, he was up my crack, trying to get me out of my summer depression.

  Now that the first week of school had gone by, I was determined to show Drew that his valiant efforts hadn't gone to waste… no matter how sorry I felt for myself.

  Joking around with him just now had been the little boost I needed to laugh again, and I was happy. We had shared a dream before, the two of us, the night his mother had left this world. That event had bonded us together for the rest our lives, and he was in every sense of the word, my brother. I loved him as if he were a part of me.

  I suppose, looking back on it now, it could have been the reminiscing about our shared dream that fired it all up once again. Or, it could have been something far darker than a passing memory. The dreams I experienced that night certainly had a bit of darkness to them, and something else.

  As I snuggled into my comfy bed, dressed in my usual black tank and grey gym shorts that I'd adopted over the hot, muggy summer, I didn't realize what was happening at first.

  I closed my eyes for merely a second before they opened once again and I was standing in the center of a familiar bedroom. My heart plummeted as I looked around, remembering this space from another dream in the past.

  Why couldn't this memory have stayed there, in the past, where it belonged?

  Less than five feet from where I stood was a large bed, with none other than a sleeping Parker Evans atop it. I sighed and looked around. The room was immaculately clean, and a flat screen TV mounted on the wall across from the bed displayed an old image of skinny Elvis. One of his ballads was playing softly, and for some reason it reminded me of Jimmy.

  “Is your heart filled with pain?

  Shall I come back, again?”

  Yes.
r />   My heart sighed just to think of him. I quickly became caught up in the melody and lyrics of the song, as my mind lost itself to the memory of my love and I could almost feel his arms around me. Not even aware of what I was doing, I closed my eyes, raised my face upward, and said, “I miss you Jimmy. I miss you so much.”

  A sound of a gasp came from the bed and I opened my eyes. Parker sat up, watching me with his eyes wide. His hair was disheveled and he looked sleepy, but he kept his eyes on me.

  “Roz?” He whispered reverently, almost as if he wasn't good enough to say my name. “What… how did you get in here?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It's a dream, Einstein. I'm asleep. My subconscious clearly wants me to be here for whatever lame reason.”

  He swallowed hard and sat up straighter. “Are you sure it's a dream?” He asked.

  I scoffed. “Of course it is. Look at me, I'm in my pajamas, for crying out loud.”

  That was when his eyes traveled the length of my body hungrily, and I realized my mistake. In a self-conscious move, I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him.

  “I've missed you, too,” he whispered.

  I looked at him oddly.

  “I never said I missed you, Parker,” I corrected.

  He nodded. “I know what you said. I heard you.”

  He slowly untangled himself from the bed and stood before me. To my dismay, he was shirtless, clad only in a pair of blue boxers. I’m sure my eyes turned into half dollars at the sight. His pecs and shoulders were toned, slightly muscled and defined, his stomach was flat, and I couldn't stop myself from staring.

  When did he become so gorgeous?

  He cleared his throat and said with a sly grin, “My eyes are up here, Earth Angel.”

  Immediately I felt a surge of anger. “You don't get to call me that!” I snapped at him. “That was special, for me and Jimmy only, you have no right to taint it!”

  He looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up to me again. “How do you know I'm not Jimmy?” He asked softly.

  I stared at him incredulously. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously,” he whispered and took a step closer to me. “How do you know I'm not Jimmy?”

  I took a tentative step back.

  “Well, er,” I stammered, totally thrown off. What kind of idiotic question was this? “Because you're Parker,” I said, gesturing at his body.

  He took another step.

  “How do you know that when Jimmy stepped into the light, his soul didn't go to Paradise, but instead went straight into the nearest body that had just died?” He asked.

  I took another step back.

  “What are you talking about?” I whispered.

  He stepped forward again, his eyes locked on mine.

  “Have you thought about it at all, Roz? Where does a soul go once it finally crosses over? Is it reincarnated? Is it sent to Heaven or Paradise or Purgatory?” He stepped forward again. “Think about it, sweetheart. Parker was there, dying or almost dead. He was right there when the light appeared--”

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked angrily, taking another step back. Tears stung my eyes and I kept backing up until I was stopped by the wall behind me.

  He moved forward until he was inches from me, grabbing my wrists in his large, firm hands.

  “Listen to me!” He begged. His eyes pleaded with mine, and since I knew this was just a dream and no harm could come to me, I forced my heart to cease its racing and I took a deep, calming breath.

  “Fine,” I said quietly. “I’m listening.”

  His hands, wrapped around my wrists, began to move up and down my bare arms softly, tenderly. Goosebumps sprang up on my sensitive flesh, and my breath hitched slightly.

  “Roz,” his voice was a caress across my soul. “Look at me, look into my eyes.”

  I did as requested, and my soul lurched at the emotion so nakedly displayed there. His eyes were not only full of love, they overflowed with it. I could feel it pouring into gentle rivers, feeding itself into my starved heart.

  “It's me. I'm not Parker. I’m Jimmy.”

  Chapter 11

  ~Roz~

  My eyes filled with the unshed tears of my soul. Clearly, my subconscious had snapped like a brittle, winter twig, if I was projecting this.

  “I wish you were,” I admitted softly. “I truly do.”

  He shook his head in frustration.

  “Why else would you think I've changed so much? If I was actually Parker, I would've made your life a living hell this past week.”

  I nodded in agreement. “True,” I said, “But since you are so adamant about sticking to your amnesia story, I figured you were biding your time all week, waiting for me to let my guard down before doing something vile.” I paused for air, and glared at him. “Besides, this is my dream, and I must be having it because I miss Jimmy so much, I want you to be him. I want this to be the explanation for why you’ve changed, Parker!” I took another breath and said, brokenly, “He… he should've never have gone into the light….”

  He swept his hand through his hair in irritation.

  “You're right about that!” He exclaimed angrily. Turning away, he stormed to his window and stared out into the night sky. “I thought going into the light was what I was supposed to do. I'd never felt such a strong pull before. It was inevitable, for me to cross over. Hell, I knew we didn’t have a future, Roz. I was an unaging ghost, could you imagine trying to have a life together? A human life? With you growing old and in love with a teenage spirit?” He shook his head bitterly. “I loved you too much to do that to you.” He paused for breath, and swallowed. “I remember it so vividly, each step going forward, the light so beautiful, pulling me into it… it was… home. I turned to you one last time to tell you I loved you, and then that was it. The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital, waking up inside Parker’s body.”

  He turned and faced me once again, his eyes shining brightly with unreleased tears.

  “Do you know what kind of torture it's been for me? To be alive, actually alive, and yet forced to live as my own enemy? As your enemy?”

  His face crumpled under the weight of his pain.

  I knew I was dreaming, I knew this wasn't real. It couldn't possibly be. In my waking life, I'd never feel such compassion for Parker Evans. In my waking life, I'd never give two craps about his feelings. And yet, here I was, my heart suddenly breaking for him as if he truly were my Jimmy. And in that tiny moment within this dream, I allowed myself to believe it was him.

  I approached him slowly, hesitatingly, my heart tripping as I told myself it's him, it's my love.

  He watched me as I drew near, and took in a shuddering breath. His eyes never left me as I painstakingly made my way to him. Once I was close enough, he reached out with one arm, snaking it around my waist and pulling me close.

  “Jimmy?” I asked tentatively, using only his name to ask if it really was him.

  He leaned in and pressed his forehead against mine in an old, familiar way. It was the same position we'd sat in together so many times, in my bedroom. My heart swelled with the memory invoked by this subtle action.

  “If this really is you, I hope I never wake up,” I whispered.

  “I'm sorry to break it to you, Earth Angel,” he whispered back, “But you ain’t dreaming.”

  His hands tightened on me suddenly, swiftly, and before I could manage to feel stunned or shocked, his lips were on mine. He devoured me, consumed me, his kiss both gentle and demanding. He forced my mouth open and plunged his tongue deeply within, tasting me with a fierceness that sent my entire being into a whirlwind. I couldn't breathe, nor did I have any desire to, as my whole conscious thought was on one thing and one thing only-- his kiss.

  His hands explored me everywhere, as if finding a long lost, cherished treasure that had been left to rot, forgotten. The feel of his body was solid and strong against mine as we stood in his bedroom, and my hands couldn't resist but to explore him as well. />
  Oh, the feel of him.

  I may have been dreaming, but I'd never felt more awake.

  And then, it suddenly occurred to me what he'd said. That I wasn't dreaming. But of course I was. I was at home in bed, my brain caught up in a fantasy where Jimmy and Parker had collided into one person, one soul, that was full of desire for no one else but me. It was a fantasy I had replayed over and over in my mind, one in which Jimmy came back to me as a real person, and we lived happily ever after.

  Of course, my dreaming brain had issues if it was conjuring up my love coming back to me as my enemy, but still. His kiss was Jimmy’s, these hands were Jimmy’s, and it felt so terribly, terribly right.

  He brought the passion down as he pulled away from me slowly, his face moving away from mine as his lips still reached out to linger.

  “You kiss like I remember,” I whispered, devastated.

  His hands brushed back my hair and he peered deeply into my eyes.

  “Why haven't you woken up yet?” He asked.

  “I…” I glanced around me, awareness slow to return. “What?”

  “You're still here, Roz,” he said. “If you were dreaming, you would've woken up by now.”

  “I don't want to wake up,” I said.

  He shook his head, disagreeing. “It's because this isn't a dream, baby. It never was. This is real.”

  I smirked at him, my lips feeling well-kissed and puffy.

  He turned away from me slowly and went to his desk. He rummaged through the drawers for a moment before finding what he was looking for.

  “I've had this since my rebirth as Parker Evans,” he said quietly. “Piper brought it to me in the hospital, I guess she felt bad that her and her brother had a crappy relationship. It was her way of starting over, an apology of sorts.” He reached out and grabbed my hand, opening it. “I want you to have it. Call it an experiment. In the morning, when you wake up in your own bed, see if you're still holding this. If you are, then we'll know this was never a dream, sweetheart.”