I didn’t realize he loved me. I knew he felt something; that maybe it could grow into more, but I never thought that it was love. Now I don’t know what to do to make the guilt stop.
He loved me and I didn’t love him back. I’m such an asshole. I’m so scared to try and live a life that I couldn’t even let him have the illusion of what he wanted. I know my needs, but I don’t know a damn about the needs of the people in my life. I—
No, no I didn’t kill him. Things got crazy and went as wrong as they possibly could, but I didn’t kill him. There was so much wrong in his heart and his mind that it was going to happen eventually.
It could have been anyone. It just happened to be me. Getting out of there was one of the best things I ever did. It gives everybody time to forgive and forget, and it might just give me a fresh start. I might even find someone else, somebody whole and sane who I can try and settle down with. If nothing else, I can clear my thoughts, get over the worst of it, and then go over it with fresh eyes.
But—
But nothing. This trip is about me. It’s about moving on and getting better so that I don’t repeat the past. Yeah it’s an awful lot like running away from your problems, but it’s also a way to stop wallowing in all of that misery.
Yeah, I guess it is. I’ve got to find some way to get past all of this and make some sort of life for myself.
Jamie swallowed hard. His throat was dry. A minute or two later, he flagged down the flight attendant and asked for some juice. It didn’t do much, but it helped a little. He had another couple of hours until they hit their mid-flight stop, so he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
He woke to the sound of the plane coming down for a landing. The flight attendants were explaining how to disembark and how to find out which terminal they’d have to find to make their destinations. After landing and a little taxiing, they were allowed to make their way off of the plane.
Not wanting to get lost and a little anxious he might miss his flight, he made his way through security, skipping food, and went to the bathroom. Then he hurried straight to the terminal listed for his flight. The only trouble was that he had an hour to wait, and being in a big hurry to get out of town, he hadn’t bothered to pack any of his books for the flight.
He didn’t like the idea of looking into any voice messages he might have acquired since he’d left, but turning his phone on for a little bit and using the internet or an app to pass the time sounded a lot more appealing than trying to find something to read in the middle of a foreign airport.
When it powered up, he heard several beeps and a few tones that indicated he had voice mail too. Screw it. Here goes…
‘Jamie, where in the hell are you? It’s Oliver. Damn it, you had better not have…I’m not gonna say it. Just be here when I come by tomorrow. We miss you. Look, I know It’s been tough after everything with Nico, but…well, just be here, ok?’
The phone beeped and asked him to select a number to delete or save the message. He deleted it without a second thought.
‘Jamie, I want you to get your butt up and answer this door…’ He could hear hard knocking sounds in the background. ‘You better come and meet me here in a minute or I’m gonna break this door down and drag your ass out here!’
Damn it. The one time I finally take their advice on taking chances, and they’re convinced I’ve hurt myself!
Most of the texts on his phone were more of the same. Friends were coming out of the woodwork to make sure Jamie had his shit together, only to find that he wasn’t answering the door.
Wonder what they’ll think when they finally figure out I’ve left? Will they be happy I took that chance they were always on my ass about, or will they just chew me out for making them worry?
He looked up just in time to lock eyes with that reality TV guy from first class as he marched through with his entourage of airport security and other personnel. It was a strange moment. The man had sounded like a real asshole on the plane, noisy and obnoxiously rude, but he wasn’t bad to look at now that Jamie had a chance to really take him in. Solid build, tight muscles, and just the right features to pull it all off.
It took Jamie a second to realize his mouth was open and his eyes had lingered a little too long. It didn’t seem to bother Mr. Bigshot too much though. He just laughed that sly laugh they all have, and he went on his way. Jamie blushed and looked back down at his phone. Maybe he’d catch another plane to some other place, and he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness later.
It took him another couple of minutes to clear his inbox. The rest were mostly text alerts about air fare savings and a couple of ads for other flights to Italy in the near future, but the last came from a blocked number:
‘i’m sorry. i never should have said all those things. i blamed you but it was always going to happen. we all knew it.’
Erzebeta? I guess it’d have to be. What would be the point of her blocking her number, and why tell me this now, months after she attacked me? I guess that’s guilt for you…and grief. It doesn’t really matter anyway. I’m here, and I’m making this trip, come what may. This is my second chance, and I’m not going to blow it for anyone.
He puttered around on his phone for a little while longer, and then it was time to board the second plane. He was one of the first people to line up. Taking a deep, calming breath, he got on board making a little wish.
Let this work. Let the past be the past and the future be a whole lot brighter than all of the crap behind me.
The rest of his trip proved to be calm. All of those messages from home didn’t do for him what all of the quiet and serenity of distance had. He was literally putting distance between him and his past.
Now that they were getting closer, he could see more of the land below the clouds. It was one hell of a great view—green trees, vast stretches of woods and vineyards, and the beauty of the Italian countryside were laid out below.
Most of his life had been lived out in the city, so the sight was unusually thrilling for him. While he could appreciate the old buildings that passed in the larger cities below, it was the idea of taking chances that was starting to appeal to him.
Maybe here I can finally stop being so anxious I’m going to screw things up. Maybe things can be positive for a change, new and different. I deserve to feel good again. I deserve to start healing, maybe growing too.
Heaving a big sigh, he tried to picture it now, walking the streets and seeing the sights. Alone and, for the first time, less scared than thrilled by the prospect, he smiled. It was a good daydream and well worth the effort. Without meaning to, he drifted off for the last hour or so of the flight, lulled by a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.
It was a dreamless and soothing sleep, the sort he’d needed for months now.
Chapter 4
Unwelcome Advances
Edward P. Cardillo
The white face with black eyes began to stalk me in my own apartment at night, taunting me from the shadows behind closed doors, calling to me from the closet and the darkness under my bed. Her words bit into my flesh, Her eyes glowed like embers in darkened interstitial places. I was trapped in the horror of feeling terrified and aroused simultaneously.
At first, I tried to get others to see Her. After a few years of living in my building, I decided to introduce myself to my neighbors. Surprisingly, they accepted my reasons for not having done so earlier due to a busy work schedule, but that didn’t stop me from feeling self-conscious or guilty for what I was about to attempt.
I invited them over for coffee, hoping that one of them would catch a glimpse of Her and I’d be rid of Her forever. That was how it appeared to work. “Oh, the bathroom is down the hall, off to the right. The light switch is on the wall to the right.” However, try as I might, not one of them caught a single glimpse of Her. “Oh, you can place your coats on my bed, down the hall to the left. The light switch is to the left.”
Why had I the misfortune to cast my gaze up to that window
on that fateful night? I’ve asked myself that question repeatedly without much satisfaction. Did I really catch Her off-guard, or had She wanted new prey to stalk? I racked my brain as to how I could get Her to lose interest in me.
Step into the shadows for a moment. I’m going to taste every part of you, from your tongue to your balls and everything in between. Your pain will be my pleasure, your fear my sweet nectar.
At night, I did my best to ignore Her advances. I tried to train my body not to jump at Her slamming of doors and Her scratching Her fingernails on walls. I only watched television, drinking my brain numb with the strongest alcohol I could get my hands on.
However, sleep was no respite. She haunted my dreams in the form of a dark specter with a pale face, always watching, always taunting me with perverse sexual innuendo, raping my mind. My pleasant dreams of nostalgic scenes of childhood and past loves always degenerated into scenes where dozens of demoniac women held me down, biting my flesh, and violating me sexually. I would frequently awake with scratches on my chest and stomach and crimson lipstick on my bare, erect penis.
I went to my local pastor down at St. Dominic’s. I told him everything I had experienced, and he listened quite intently.
“Have you seen a physician about this?”
“I’m not sick, Father.” A statement that, based on my appearance, was ridiculous. I was pale, exhausted, and had lost a substantial amount of weight. I looked not unlike the pale wraith that tormented me so.
“My Son, perhaps all of these nightmares represent a crisis of faith. You need to settle down, add some wholesome things to your life.”
“I don’t understand what any of that has to do with anything,” I snapped.
“Start meeting some nice girls. Get a nice girlfriend. Such things lead to marriage and family, and with that comes comfort and stability. Such things are blessings from God. You could do with some blessings in your life.”
Yeah, as if God had anything to do with this. But, I took Father’s advice and started going out in the evenings. She followed wherever I went, taunting me as usual from the shadows. I began to meet single women. I met a girl out at a café one evening.
Her name was Mary Brodigan. She was sitting alone, looking absolutely beautiful in a yellow summer dress with a blue floral print. My tormentor was haranguing me from the alleyway, so I decided to stand up, walk over, and introduce myself to the lovely girl.
We exchanged introductions and pleasantries, and she invited me to sit with her. We talked and laughed. She was a stunning woman in every measure, both physically and spiritually. We discussed our families and our work. She mentioned that she was twenty-two and finishing her master’s degree in fine arts. We talked on and on, ordering cup after cup of coffee. I was absolutely enthralled with Mary, which only made the Horrid Blight on My Life angrier and more aggressive.
Taunts turned to insults, and descriptions of sexual acts turned to descriptions of mutilation. It was that night, at the café with my Mary, that I first saw Her step out of the shadows. She entered the café and took a seat at a nearby table, eying me hungrily with a seething hatred that withered my manhood between my legs.
I did my best to ignore Her, but I felt Her gaze like the hot sun focused through a magnifying glass, and I was the little insect being burned alive under its power. It was at that moment that I feared Mary would see Her and be saddled with this horror. I wouldn’t wish this evil on anyone, let alone someone as wonderful as Mary.
The thought had crossed my mind that I should get up and leave Mary’s life forever, then and there without hint, preview, or explanation. Then I wondered if that was what this Hell Bitch wanted me to do. Perhaps She planted those fears in my mind to force me to abandon Her competition in this beautiful girl that sat across from me.
I boldly decided to ignore the fears and the threats and pursue this prospect at a relationship. I decided that I wanted to see Mary again, and she gladly accepted my invitation. I had hoped at the time that if the Demon Bitch saw that I was finding happiness in love despite Her best efforts, She’d grow bored and move on to some other poor, hapless victim.
My real troubles were only just beginning.
Chapter 5
Lucy
Edward P. Cardillo
Lucy Ricci sat in her terminal at JFK International physically and emotionally spent. Only twenty-four hours prior she was defending her doctoral dissertation in front of five psychologists who throttled her in the academic sense. That was how it was, though.
“Walking the gauntlet” was a rite of passage, and Lucy passed with flying colors. She devoted the last five years of her life to reaching this moment, nearly sacrificing all of her friendships and all but killing and burying any kind of dating life. Now she felt about it in a way that was completely unexpected.
The whole experience was so sudden. One minute she was defending in front of her committee, a few hours later there was champagne and slaps on the back, atta-girl, and such. Now she was a doctor of psychology, and she never wanted to hear about structural equation models of dietary disinhibition again.
The whole thing was anti-climactic, and after pretty much abandoning normal life for five years, she was left with a gaping void in her sense of purpose. In those five long years, all of her friends had already been working, and most had met “that special someone,” becoming embroiled in serious relationships.
Lucy realized that, as she resurfaced for air to rejoin the living, she would be the proverbial third wheel. She remembered what her mother told her one month ago at the kitchen table in her parents’ house.
“Lucy, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Mom.”
“I know you, Sweetie. Something’s eating you.”
Lucy tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s just…this is all going to be over very soon.”
“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess. It’s just…I don’t know…it’s like I won’t know what to do afterward.”
Her mother chuckled. “Lucy, you have that job at the school that starts in September.”
“I know that. It’s just that I’ve always been doing a million things at once: classes, teaching, internship, research. It’s going to be so weird doing nothing for the summer.”
“Why don’t you ask your job if you can start early?” said her father while reading the newspaper.
“Honey…” Her mother shot him an impatient look that wordlessly said ‘I’ll handle this.’ He took a sip of his coffee and kept on reading.
Her mother took a sip of her own coffee. “Sweetie, you deserve a break. Trust me, this may be the last time in your life that you get to ‘do nothing’ for two months. Once you start working and living your life, doing nothing becomes a luxury you won’t be able to afford. One day you’ll have a family, kids of your own, a mortgage…”
Lucy looked away as if the topic made her uncomfortable.
“Oh, I see,” said her mother. “This isn’t about the summer or your job.”
Lucy shook her head. “Mom, all of my friends have their own place, serious boyfriends…I feel like someone who just got out of prison and everything’s changed while I was away.”
“And you don’t know where to start.”
“Right.”
Her mother moved closer to her. “Lucy, you’ve done a great job of focusing on your career, making it happen. In a few short months it’s going to happen…”
“If I defend successfully,” reminded Lucy.
Her mother shot her a ‘gimme a break’ look and continued, “…it’s going to happen. Now you have to take care of the other parts of your life. You should do something for yourself this summer. Travel, meet people, have some new experiences, soak in some culture.”
“You mean find a man,” Lucy accused.
Lucy’s father glanced over the top of his newspaper, looking uncomfortable at the current direction the conversation was taking, and he raised his paper even higher, hiding behind
it.
“That’s not what I was thinking of,” said her mother, “but now that you mention it, why not?”
“No offense, Mom, but I’m from a different generation. I don’t need a man.”
“What makes you think that your mother needs me?” asked her father from behind the newspaper fort he constructed for himself.
“Michael, please,” rebuked her mother. He reached out blindly from behind the paper and felt the table until he found his coffee mug. Then he slowly brought it behind his paper fortress.
“What does my generation have to do with it?” asked her mother, slightly wounded by the remark. “Don’t you want to find that special someone, fall in love, be happy?”
“Mom, you can’t find happiness in another person. It has to come from within you.”
Her mother snickered at the authoritative declaration. “Lucy, don’t patronize me with that psychobabble. The truth is, falling in love is a part of life. You’re going to be a therapist, right?” Lucy nodded reluctantly. “Well, your patients are going to be coming to you for advice about matters of the heart. If it is something you’ve never experienced, how will you advise them?”
“But you don’t need to have been depressed to treat a depressed person,” Lucy retorted.
“Oh, bullshit.” Lucy was stunned by her mother’s reaction. Her mother glared at her. “Don’t give me that clinical detachment crap. Soon you’re going to be a doctor, but you’re still just a kid, wet behind the ears.”
“Mom—”
“No, you listen, Lucy. You may have an education and have learned some techniques, but no one will pay you good money to help them if you have no life experience. You had your program as an excuse for the past five years and I get that, but it’s almost over and you have your life to live. I may not be some fancy ass therapist, but I do know that you haven’t begun to live yet. It’s about time you started. Right, Michael?”
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