Chapter 3: MY FAULT
Present Day
"Lisa come on, don't let go. Don't let go" he pleaded as tears ran down his sandy face. "I'll pull you up on three. One, two, three. Ahhhhhh" he screamed, using the last piece of decent energy his battered body could muster. All to no avail. "Come on. Don't— Help! Somebody help! Please" he screamed, his cracked voice echoing throughout the canyon. "Please" he whispered, trying to clean the tears off his face, but only succeeding in getting specks of sand all over himself.
"Baby" she finally spoke up, her feet dangling treacherously under her. "It's okay" she sniffed, trying to conceal her tears. "It'll be fine. We'll be fine. Just let me go."
"What?"
"You can't hold me up forever" she mustered a weak smile. "Just let go."
"Are you crazy? No. No. We can do this. On three. One, two, three. Ahhhhhh!" As he pulled this time, the scar under his belly scratched the rough floor, making him grunt in pain and causing his grip to gradually loosen. "No no no no no. Come on. Come on!" He screamed even louder. “Baby you got to trust me on this one. Just don’t let go okay. We can do this. Lisa, please don’t let go” he said, tears dropping down his eyes, his facial expression depicting helplessness. “Remember all the dreams we’ve shared? Baby you’re pregnant with my chi—our child” he corrected. “Not right now baby, you can’t give up. Not right now” he said, more tears flowing down his cheeks. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have suggested this fucked up hike in the first place. Please forgive me Lisa. Please forgive me” he cried, his hands slowly slipping.
"Robert” she smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be watching over you. We’ll both be watching over you. But for now,” the smile on her face immediately faded away, “…let go" she said, freeing herself from his grasp in an instant.
"Nooooooooo!"
He screamed back into consciousness, jolting himself from a daylight nightmare that covered him with pants and beads of sweat. "Fuck".
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The satisfying thuds of leather boots on autumn leaves pierced through the thickest sounds, easily audible to the naked ear. The mid-twenties looking man, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a blue jean jacket with a white top inside, carefully traced his steps around the murky-looking environment littered with leaves and headstones. He unhurriedly made his way to one particular headstone that had bouquets on bouquets of flowers around it. Some looking fresh and young, others, not so much. He mushed the leaves under his feet like a dog preparing to get a suntan in the scorching weather, then gently took a seat on the ground, his legs crossed under him.
Reaching out into his jacket, he brought out a bouquet of young and thriving looking roses, then rested it on the headstone. Kinda resembled the other bouquets already on the headstone. He gradually traced the carving on the piece of stone before him that read, "Lisa McDowell Harrison, Nineteen Ninety-Three to Two Thousand and Sixteen."
"Six years sweetheart. Six long years without you and I can't think of anything else to say but… ‘I'm sorry’. I pray every single day that I could go back, and if indeed a life needed to be taken, it should've been mine" He sighed. "But every single day I wake up from the same nightmare and continue living in an even worse one. A reality without you." He bit his lower lip, trying desperately to hold his tears back.
"You know I found a hobby. I do some painting stuff by the side, just to take my mind off a couple things these days. That, and the fact that it's just really fun seeing something that you can actually call 'your creation'. Would’ve been nice to see our actual creation, but…” he paused, taking a deep sigh. “I might even bring a couple with me tomorrow, who knows" he smirked, trying to hide his tears.
"I read a lot too. Just tend to lose myself in stories of adventure and chaos and drama. The usual shit. But it seems they all end the same, finding an answer to a question, a subtle strength to a hidden weakness, an inexplicable satisfaction to a lingering want or question. Not going to lie though, they're pretty thrilling. Sometimes I daydream about us being the main characters in our own story of adventure and thrill. Maybe that would be something worth documenting. You never know", he smiled to himself, drawing circles round the pieces of sand and leaves mushed in front of him.
"You were right. We shouldn't have gone on that trip. It was crazy, it was wild and it… and it was all my fault. I know I'm running out of fresh lines, it's just the same thing every day", he feigned a laugh, tears already dropping down his murky and tired-looking eyes. "But I'm going to keep coming back Lisa. Until the day I die", he looked back up at the headstone. After a couple seconds of minimal silence in-between sobs, he slowly got back on his feet and was about to make his way out, when he turned back, like he had forgotten something.
" I love you Lisa. Always have, always will. And no. I'm not ever going to let go."
He looked forward and was about to walk away, when in-between steps, his leg got stuck over a twig causing him to lose balance and knock his head against a different headstone, sending him to sleep in an instant.
After about thirty minutes of nighty night, his eyelids finally glittered open, his murky eyes lurking underneath. The instant pain latched at the side of his head felt like a hangover slept with another hangover, and was about to have a threesome with a chick named migraine.
"Fuck" he sat up, gradually massaging his swollen head. "Now that's just great" he tried assessing the size of the bump with his wandering hands. "Who the hell puts a headstone so fucking close to another headsto— wait" he said, recognizing the name etched across the large piece of rock. “Mia Arlene Martel” it read. “Nineteen Seventy-Two to Two Thousand and Ten”.
"Aunt Mia?" He said, reaching for the headstone, brushing it lightly with the tip of his thumb. "When the fuck did…" as he brushed the top of the headstone, he felt something way rougher than actual granite, and decided to take an even closer look. It felt like a carving. Like a hidden message covered by dust and years of rotting leaves. He reached into his shoe and drew a pocket knife. Gradually beginning to pick apart every single letter and number from what was definitely a well-hidden message, they gradually began to make sense. 'Sixth, Seventh Driveway, Luther Street' he said, noticing the last of the inscriptions carved into the stone. He quickly drew out his phone and put in the details of what was definitely a location, and a result popped up for ‘Luther Street, Seventh Driveway’. It was just a couple minutes away actually. He could easily just walk it.
"Bingo."
Chapter 4: Snow Black"You have now reached your destination", the ever-emotionless Google map voice chimed to an end."Yeah, no Shit" Robert said, sounding audibly frustrated. "After four wrong turns and five Cul-de-sac's, I've finally reached my destination ayy?" He said, eyeing the tall, murky building and it's inconspicuous wooden door a couple meters to the side of the road. He slipped his phone back into his dark jeans and walked closer to the building, eyeing and noticing as many details as he possibly could, and there weren't exactly many of them. The dark, tinted windows plastered across its cream-colored walls. The worn-out wooden door staring him peephole to eyeball, and the disturbing doormat that read, "You can come in now. I’ve been waiting.”Robert cleared his throat, adjusted his afro, and gently knocked on the tattered door. "Hello? Is anyone…" before he could even get the words out of his mouth, the rectangular peephole slid open, and a set of indistinct eyes peeped
Chapter 5: I WANT TO KNOW. CAN YOU SHOW ME“It’s really very surprising Robert. I’ve actually been waiting for you for a while now. You’re the last piece we’ve all been waiting to meet.”“Okay, first off, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Secondly, if you could stop the thing you’re doing with the lights… however you’re doing it” he pointed to the flashing light bulb over him, “…yeah I’d really, really appreciate it. And thirdly, what exactly do you mean by “’we’ve’ been waiting”? Who’s we?”"Here" she said, pointing to the book on the table that definitely didn't catch the eye till this moment. She picked it up and flipped it open. Elizabeth Garner and Taylor Carlyle, your sisters… foster sisters, attended her funeral. They were the first ones here, and the first of the eight of you guys to be cleared on what's actually going on here.""What do you mean by 'what's actually going…""Makayla Fackler was here two years ago, similar predicament. Only difference is she aske
Chapter 6: VIEWS"Yeah I got a question" Robert said, picking himself off the floor. "What the fuck was that?" He said, staring blankly at her."That was the answer to all of your questions. Most of them at least" she corrected, with the most expressionless look on her face."What in the… no no no it's a dream. It's all a dream, and I'm going to wake up sooner or later" he said massaging his head. "Wake up" he slapped himself. "Wake up. Please wake up" he said still hurting what he thought was his unconscious self. "You know Robert, dreams are a product of what has happened, what might happen, or what is yet to come to pass. So, either way, you're kind of stuck with me… and with this" she said running her tender fingers slowly on the wooden box. "Come on now Banter, it's your consignment" she smiled. "What?" He turned back to her. "I'm not taking that shit. I have no interest whatsoever in being a superhero.""Do you think this is a marvel or DC movie or something? You think you’re
Chapter 7: If You’re Reading This…“Come on Robert, you can do this. Two, Zero, Zero, zero”, he mumbled to himself, inputting the code into the space made for it on the box. “Yeah. That’s got to be the right one. Right?” He tried opening the box, but still, it was locked tighter than the wardrobe a black mother would hide candy. “Fuck!” he yelled, throwing the box from his bed to the thin walls of his apartment, echoing with a loud thud. “Robert!” His upstairs neighbor yelled. “Sorry Miss Crawford. It won’t happen again”, he shakily said, walking towards the box and picking it up as carefully as he could. “It better not. You know what happened the last time.”“Yes Ma’am, and I’m sorry” he repeated, sounding a little more frustrated now. Now, he began to pay more attention to the details of the mysterious ‘pandora-like’ box. Its indecisive patterns had to tell a message, right? Slowly caressing the box with his hands, he tried the more mental approach to opening this rather annoyin
Chapter 8: LOVE AT…“Robert, do you have even the slightest clue on the kind of deep shit you put me through? Standing in front of such a prospective investor and not being able to say a thing? I have never been so infuriated in my entire life.”“Including the time when your bride…”“Yes, including the time when my bride left me at the altar. Thank you for bringing up that painful and unnecessary piece of information Trevor.”“Welcome” He answered, taking a sip of the hot cocoa he had wrapped around his fingers. “Sir I honestly…”“Have a legitimate excuse this time? Is that what you want to say? Do you know how long I had to stall for you, and still, you didn’t show up? I…” he held himself back, trying not to get excessively angry now. “I had to talk about politics Robert. Goddamned politics!” he slammed his hand on the long table in front of him, jolting both Rob and Trevor. “I have never been so disgusted with myself in my entire life.”“Including the time when you…”“Don’t even da
Chapter 9: Pandora’s Box“You’ve got to be fucking with me. I hate my life”, He said standing on the wrong end of a bungalow’s prison-like gate, the spaces between the bars giving him enough room to peep through. “You have now reached your…”“Shut up, would you?” he said, switching off his phone and slipping it into his jean pocket. He assessed the gate, trying to calculate how far and high he would need to job to get over it. Could’ve just knocked or rattled the padlock to get attention from whoever was in the house though. “I mean, it’s doable but I haven’t parkoured in a long long time.” He added, stretching out and watching the passerby’s around to see if anyone was paying too much attention the stunt he was about to pull. Turns out when your weekend’s cut short and you’re back in town attending meetings, filing reports and going for appointments, nobody really gives a shit. “Ok then, let’s give it a shot, shall we?” He took off his backpack and flung it over the gate, landing w
Chapter 10: Family is DeadThe Jeers and cheers engulfing the betting center were way too loud to unhear or avoid. If it wasn’t two grown ass men arguing at one side of the room, it was a hopeless, middle-aged one, praying to every single god he knew so they would help him out. "What the fuck is he doing man. He's gonna lose the race if he keeps riding like that." The impatient gambler said, banging his table. "Calm down Mike, he's gonna make it work okay?""Does his horse have athlete's foot or something? Get your head in the game Nine" He screamed, getting up from his table and barking at the television"Trust me. He's gonna make it work.""How the hell would you know Javani? You saw him win already?""Well I wouldn't say that? But I bet three hundred on his ass, so he'd better win" he said, adjusting his face cap."Ladies and gentlemen, this is one of the most one-sided races I've ever seen. Dean Drury in number three is leading by a longshot" the commentator said in an ever-enthu
Chapter 11: I FEEL IT COMING"Come on Rizla, I need to get to the office, let me in.""I'm sorry Robert but I have been given strict instructions from the management themselves to bar your entry into the office. Into the entire building to be honest.”"Come on big guy, you're really going to fuck me over like this? After all the stuff we've been through?""I'm sorry Robbie.""Remember that one time when you got sick and you couldn't write your letter to explain to the management why exactly you got sick? Who wrote the letter for you?""It was you" the buff security guard said, his arms still folded across his chest."And that time you wanted to buy a laptop? Who not only got you the perfect one, but also set it up and gave you fifa20”?"It was you" Rizla said, even sadder"So please man, just let me in, and say I clocked in by twelve or something. We’ll be able to sort ourselves out from the—""It's three in afternoon Robe–""Yes I know it's three in the afternoon but just lie to them