Wow, has it been a year since the last installment? Doesn't seem like it. I apologize for that, but that little thing called life kept getting in the way.
I hope everyone likes this installment; we're nearing the end, but not quite there. Please enjoy this segment of "Silent Cellist" All comments and suggestions appreciated.
Standard rights apply for those youngsters trying to get some kicks. ********************************************************************************
Chapter 22: Christmas in Hell, part 1
"NO!" Brittany shouted as her fist went through His visage. She was back in that awful dream at the end of that awful hallway. He was raping Sarah as He strangled her, an evil smile spread on His mouth. Amanda could do nothing but stand in the doorway and watch her dead wife relive the torment they knew in life. Brittany could do nothing to help her friend-ghost; she wasn't around in those days. She wasn't there to protect her in life, and by His rules she couldn't help Sarah in death.
But that wasn't about to to stop Brittany from swinging again. And again her fist went through His image and she stumbled into the wall. Amanda, watching Brittany's effort, cried out for Him to stop this.
"Why!" she screamed, crying. "Why do you delight in torturing me?" Brittany stopped her next swing when she realized Amanda was in fact talking.
He didn't answer right away. He continued His assault on Sarah's broken body until He came. His vile spunk filled the broken ghost along with the blood and flesh from her torn labia. He finally looked at Amanda with a satisfied lilt in his eyes. Zipping up His pants, He sat down behind the desk Sarah was splayed upon.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, my dear Amanda," He said in that fatherly tone. "Sarah's treatment is nothing more than what she deserves. She -- the both of you -- should be honored to be in my good graces."
Brittany's mouth hung open. "What, you sick fuck!" she screamed even though only Amanda could hear her. Amanda looked at her girlfriend and shook her head. "I'm begging you. Please leave us alone. I can't take any more of this."
"Any more of what, my sweet?" He asked tilting His head to meet her gaze. "Any more joy that I haven't finished off your beloved Sarah? Any more visits to my house to see how well I treat your wife? There's much worse out there than I."
"What could be worse than. . . this?" As soon as Amanda said that, she knew she shouldn't have.
"Let me explain something to you, my sweet Amanda." He leaned forward and put His elbows on the desk. "What you have witnessed is Sarah's own dealings. She wanted free passage to visit both you and Brittany. I granted her wish -- with my own stipulation. She is mine as much as you were Dr. Jackson's and Sgt. Cook's. I will do with her as I please."
Amanda and Brittany just stood gawking. Sarah stirred, regaining consciousness.
"Ah, the lady awakens," He said in utter delight. "Tell them, my dear of our little arrangement."
Sarah looked at her wife shamefully. Amanda's face was pleading to hear it was all a lie. "I love you, Amanda. And Brittany. You did what you had to do to keep me safe when we were in the asylum. Irony is no beautiful thing; I'm doing what I have to do to keep you and Brittany from this very fate."
Betrayal hit Brittany like a prize fighter. "Whoa, whoa! Sarah, you said that if I let my feelings for Amanda be known then we'd be free from this place."
"So, the great Brittany Williams makes her grand entry," He mocked, clapping His hands. "Brittany, I don't know what lies you've been told, but allow me to fill you in on the truth."
"Shut your fucking mouth!"
"Very well. Have it your way. Sarah, would you be a dear and straighten out the poor lass?"
Brittany turned back to Sarah, who was still crying. "Brittany, I've never lied to you. This is all someone else's doing."
"Silence whore!" He shouted as He slapped her. The impact threw her into the concrete wall, cracking it. He recomposed Himself before turning back to the brunette. "Brittany, don't believe what these two whoring liars say."
"Shut. Your. Mouth! I would kill you if I could."
That brought a smile to His face. "You have anger, that's good. . .hatred is even better; you'll need it. Is that fear? No. . . regret, remorse, sorrow. . .rebellion? Abandonment. How utterly curious. Guilt? Oh my, you are chalk full of emotions. Good, let them fill you up, but don't waste them on me. There's another who is far more deserving than I."
Brittany stared into His eyes for a long second. "There are people out there worse than you? I find that hard to believe."
"You dated one," He said bluntly. "What was her name? Katie? Laila?. . ."
"Kayla?"
"Ah, yes," He said snapping His fingers. "That's the one."
"What does she have to do with any of this?"
"I was under the impression you were no fool," He feigned confusion. Brittany glared at Him as He continued. "What Sarah failed to mention, or perhaps she forgot, is that you too must be freed from the ghosts of your past before I can leave all of you in peace. Tragedy, heartache, betrayal, and murder. That is what binds each of you to me."
"Murder! I've never killed anyone."
"No? Then I suppose your father and brother killed themselves?"
"Stop it!"
". . .Just drove their car off that steep hill. . ."
"SHUT UP!"
"You don't feel any guilt about their deaths? Do you not take responsibility for what happened? Ah, now the guilt makes sense."
"I said. Shut. The fuck. UP!" Brittany didn't even try to fight back the tears. "I didn't kill them!"
"Then who did? I'm pretty sure they didn't go careening off that hill for the hell of it. Your father wasn't a suicidal man, and your brother was well on his way to stardom." He cocked His head in that arrogant way that drove the three women nuts. "But you were getting in the way."
"No."
"You, too, Brittany are a great player. That's why your daddy let his little twelve-year-old daughter move all the way out to the west coast. It was the easiest way to get rid of you and let him focus on his favorite prodigy. His son."
"Shut your goddamned mouth," Amanda screamed. "How can you say such things?"
"The truth is very easy for someone like me to say, my dear," He said without taking His gaze from Brittany. "You and Sarah should do so yourselves sometime. Then you would know what it would feel like to be free."
A realization made Brittany blink. He was right; she is no fool. "Why would you tell us this? What's in it for you?"
He chuckled. "Well, since I can't touch you, I guess a little mind-fucking would have to do the trick. Like the cheap trick you are. You'd know all about doing tricks, now wouldn't you?"
"I"m not a whore, you son of a bitch!"
"Kayla must have been a good lay. I know I couldn't stand her company for more than a minute. And then we have Tina, who has the hots for you like you wouldn't believe. . .and look where that got her. Which leads me to Amanda, here. A cheap trick, a disgraceful little slut. Doing what she needs to in order to survive. Not unlike your common streetwalker. And everyone of them either has already, or would like to fuck you brains out. Justify it any way you like, but that many people does, in fact, make you a whore. I'm only out to save both you and Amanda. Once the two of you are safe, then you'll be rid of me."
"Bullshit! I've heard how you say that you are bound to Amanda while she's still alive. That you will never leave her alone. You said that you planned to torture her because you knew that her defiance and stubbornness will keep you alive to do just that. I think the words were, 'either both of us die or neither dies'." Brittany smiled as if she caught Him in a lie. "You're not planning on going anywhere."
Brittany's proud smile faded as His grew. "No. But YOU will be rid of me."
Brittany shot up in her bed in a cold sweat. Her heart thumped in her chest. It took several attempts, but her breathing finally slowed. She looked down at Amanda, who lay in the serene repose of sleep, undisturbed by her sudden wakening. Brittany put her hand to her face and began to sob.
Brittany didn't know how long she'd been crying. A few minutes? An hour? Long enough for Amanda to wake up and wrap her arms around her shoulders. If Brittany felt her there, she gave no sign. She just continued to sob into her hands. He confirmed that she knew who tried to kill one of her best friends, the problem was no one but Amanda and her mom believed her. Not even the police
Amanda kissed her girlfriend on the cheek and moved some of her hair from her face. Brittany finally turned towards her girlfriend, her eyes red and her face soaked. She threw her arms around Amanda's neck, tackling her to the bed. Burying her face in the pillow, Brittany continued to weep. Amanda just let her get it out. This is far from the first time.
"Sorry for waking you up," Brittany said quietly. Amanda just closed her eyes and shook her head. Brittany's lips curled slightly. She went to say something further, but Amanda put a finger to her lips and shook her head. Amanda adjusted so that she curled up into her usual "sleeping ball", as Brittany called it. But Brittany couldn't find the strength to go back to sleep.
3:37 A.M. Brittany let out a huff. Less than a week before Christmas and the nightmares come back. All week was the same story. She and Amanda would go to sleep. She would dream sweet dreams of their future together. But then, she'd end up in that damn room. And it always ends with that last conversation. That deviant smile, His cocky tone, hell His very existence unnerved the star player. But this was different. If Sarah was right about Tina and Ashley, then He had to be right about Amanda.
Brittany sat on the edge of her bed and looked over at her sleeping girlfriend. She looked so peaceful, so at ease with lying there -- even with everything that goes on in her head. Thinking of what Brittany has planned for their future together, and the present she bought for her cellist, she couldn't help but smile. She was going to take the summer off from paintball completely and take Amanda on a vacation. Wherever she wants to go. No team, no problems. Just the two of them. And wherever Amanda decided to go, and after she finished school, is where she'd take her back every year.
Brittany looked at the clock again. She'd been staring at Amanda for five solid minutes. Getting up quietly, Brittany made her way to the kitchen for a late night snack. Just like last time, she picked out the box of Keebler Club crackers. "What would I do without 'em?" she mused.
"Good question," came a voice from behind her.
Brittany rolled her eyes. "Why do ghosts always sneak up behind people?" she mumbled, but sure Sarah heard it.
Sarah chuckled. "That one's easy. Because it's fun." Brittany responded by putting a cracker in her mouth and turning around. "Rough night?"
"You would know; you were there." Brittany gave Amanda's dead ex-wife a deadpan look. "All I want to know is why."
Sarah's eyes lowered. "Please. Take a seat, Brittany."
"No. I'll stand thank you very much." These house calls of Sarah's always have rubbed Brit the wrong way. "Why are these nightmares coming back? What is He trying to tell me? And, most importantly, why did you lie to me?" Brittany took another cracker, glaring at the ghost.
Sarah sat down in Mrs. Williams' chair. She looked sad; Brittany felt betrayed. Sarah felt guilty, Brittany was angry. Sarah sitting down the way she did was the first show of submission she'd ever shown someone other than Him. Staring at the hands in her lap, Sarah meekly answered, "I didn't lie to you.".
"Yeah, you told me that in the dream too, but I think you're full of shit. What does He mean by Amanda won't be rid of Him but I will?"
A tear fell down Sarah's cheek. "He means that. . . that Amanda. . . has to. . ." she couldn't finish that sentence. And she didn't need to. Brittany felt that last unsaid word hit her square in the chest. The blood rushed from her face. Brittany went so numb she didn't hear the box of crackers hit the floor.
"Amanda has to die!" Her brain counldn't fathom the thought. Nothing made sense. Nothing mattered. That could not be the only answer. "No," she said out loud, shaking her head. "No. No. No. . ."
Brittany was so caught up in disbelief that she didn't hear the spilled crackers crunching under someone's feet. Her vision didn't clear when she looked into whoever it was before her. If she had, then she would have screamed. She somehow managed to kiss a ghost.
"That was lovely, Brittany, but I'm dead," came Sarah's voice from nowhere. Brittany was still lost, but recognized the voice.
"What's so lovely! Amanda cannot die!"
"I'm sorry, Brittany," Sarah sympathized, "I don't want her to either. But you heard what He said. He controls what happens to us."
Brittany shook that thought from her head. "No fucking way! I don't know what He is and I don't care. He is not taking Amanda away from me."
Sarah took the trembling teenager into her arms. "He won't. Someone else will."
"NO!" Brittany screamed to the floor. Sarah was gone and Brittany found herself on her hands and knees as if she fell off the chair. "Everything is so fucked up!"
She stood up and dusted the crumbs of her hands. Brittany decided that maybe cleaning up her mess would help take her mind off this, if only for a minute. Every sweep of the broom, every breath she took was more forceful than the previous. The kitchen and dining room were spotless by the time she was finished, but it didn't matter.
Her heart must have woken up her girlfriend. At least that's what Brittany kept telling herself. Hell, it's awaken the dead before. The thought did nothing but piss her off more. Amanda had Brittany pulled into her and it seemed to be working. The star paintballer was shaking less and her breathing wasn't as labored, but she still could not look her in the eye. Minus that one time, it's never been a problem for Brittany. Sitting in the darkened bedroom at 5:17 in the morning, neither one of them was saying anything.
Amanda traced her lips at the base of her girlfriend's neck. Brittany felt the shiver run from her neck to her groin. Amanda did it again, this time getting a coo from her beloved player. She placed two finger tips against the skin of her shoulders, and, with no more than a feather's touch, ran the length of her arms. Amanda could see the goose bumps form, even in this dim light.
"Amanda, stop," Brittany blurted out. That may have been what she wanted right then, it wasn't what she needed. What she needed was dried up in the back of her throat, struggling to spring from her mouth. "I said stop." Brittany forced Amanda's hands down, placing them around her middle. She turned her head so that she could see Amanda's face, which looked confused as hell.
Brittany's mouth went to say something, but what came out was a jumbled mass of nothing. Amanda pulled her pad and pen out from under the alarm clock. "what?" she wrote.
"I had that dream again," Brittany began, but stopped.
"that's why I'm trying to comfort you"
Brittany smiled at the thought. "He said that you have. . ."
Amanda looked at her gaping mouth, waiting for her to finish the sentence. She began writing when she realized Brittany wasn't going to say anything further. "I have to what?"
"I don't know how to say this." Brittany felt her heart fall from her chest and shatter on the floor. Once again, her face turned pale. "But He and Sarah said that you are going to die."
Amanda reeled back. She wrote so fast her words were barely legible. "He told you too!"
Brittany's face turned to that of horror. She's known this whole time that He's been saying such things, and she never bothered to fill her in? For the second time tonight, betrayal ran through her veins. "You've known? And you didn't tell me?" Amanda just blankly stared back. "How could you do that?"
Amanda let out a sigh. She began writing even though Brittany was saying something. When she was finished and looked up, Brittany had stopped; tears stained her face. She handed her pad to Brittany, wiping away the tears with her other hand.
"Yes, I've known for some time that I am going to die on the outside. He told me so before Sarah died. It was right about the time He found out about Illitor. He didn't like that I've been spilling my mind out on paper for anyone to see. In fact, He doesn't like me at all, but you already know that. He is my demon, our demon, that haunts our every move. He doesn't stop until His will is carried out. And that is for me -- for us -- to be used as pawns in His sick games. He is evil incarnate. He gets off on seeing us in pain. That is why Tina's in a coma and you're in tears. There are many things out there that people refuse to believe, and that disbelief is what allows things like Him to thrive. I didn't tell you before because I thought I was strong enough to keep Him at bay alone. Hell, you used to be His greatest bane, but something has changed. I don't know what, but it involves Kayla and her puppet Samantha. I beg you, please don't leave me over this. I know I'm going to die, but I can't handle doing it alone."
Brittany looked over at her girlfriend. She didn't know what to feel. Shame? Anger? Hate? Pity, even? What Brittany did was throw the pad across the room, satisfied in the moment as it hit the wall. She decided not to decided. Tonight was the most her trust has been betrayed in all of her life. Amanda told her that she loved her, shouldn't that equate to no secrets? It made sense in Brittany's mind.
Amanda, for the first time ever, felt no life coming from her girlfriend. Either too much life that she would burst at the seams, or just enough to keep her going; she's seen the entire spectrum. Brittany's face gave no hints to what she was feeling. She refused to say a word and that she threw her pad across the room meant that the conversation was over. "I'm sorry," Amanda lipped to her.
"Sorry!" Brittany hissed back, sending Amanda back to the wall. "You knew you were going to die soon and you didn't bother to tell me? You tell me that your demons are the reason I'm not getting any sleep and that I have to fight them off for you! I've invested my emotions in a living ghost." Brittany didn't care that Amanda was shaking her head at all of this. She just continued, pointing an accusing finger in her face. "I thought I knew you. I defended you against any one who dared give us shit about being together. I gave my love to you. . ."
Brittany was cut off by Amanda lunging at her. She threw up her hands at what she thought was a nutjob attacking her, but what Amanda did was far from it. She wrapped her arms around her neck and held her tight. She was crying, not out of shame, but out of fear. Fear that she was going to leave her like Sarah did. Fear that she was going to die alone in some gutter somewhere. Even with Brittany pushing at her chest, Amanda held tight.
"Amanda. . . I can't. . . breathe!" That only got her to loosen her grip slightly. Amanda was still shaking her head at what Brittany had just said, not wanting to believe a word of it. But it was all true. She allowed Brittany to invest her love in a living ghost. How do you make up for that? By loving them back with all the affection and attention they deserve. At least that's what she's been telling herself this whole time. Amanda was so caught up in it all, that for the shortest of days, she forgot about His promise to reunite her with Sarah.
"Amanda, let go of me," Brittany ordered. Amanda refused; she wasn't about to let go of the one person who helped her keep her sanity. "I said, let. Go. Of. Me. Now." She backed up, but held onto her hands. Brittany stared at her face, which was still looking down. Suddenly a pang of guilt hit her in the chest. It wasn't fair to accuse her of such things, but that wasn't about to stop Brittany from making her point.
"Amanda, I don't know what to think about all of this," she began. "Before this year started I had my head on my shoulders and everything planned out. I was going to play paintball, study my ass off, then graduate and get on a pro team. That's all I wanted to do. But then, I walk past a music store and everything changes. I don't think something so trivial could turn into something so important by chance." Brittany stopped to keep her emotions in check. Seeing Amanda -- the girl she loves -- this shaken is tough.
"And now I'm forced to understand everything you and Sarah went through in that place, a place that looks far different from Illitor's description." Brittany put up a hand at Amanda's shocked look. "I know they were just putting up a front, so relax. I think I've been more than understanding of what's happened to you. Hell, I love you because of your strength to survive it all. Well, that and Inikye. But you just want me to accept that you're going to die? And then what? You tell me what am I supposed to do then."
Amanda got off the bed and picked up her note pad. She began writing with a shaking hand. She sniffled and stray tears fell down her cheeks. Now it was her turn to feel guilty.
"I don't know how to answer that, love," Brittany read. "It's not that I want to die. I love Sarah, yes, but you are the love of my life now. I don't want to leave you. I don't. But there's a difference between wanting and accepting. We all die, it's just a matter of how, when and why. Sarah died in that hallway so that I may live to find you. If I'm going to die, whenever it may come, I would like to do so protecting you. As far as what you're supposed to do after that is entirely up to you. But I will always be here to help you."
Brittany looked up from the pad. Amanda sat down next to her, wrapping her arm around her waist and resting her head on her shoulder. With so many things screaming in her head, she didn't know which one to say first. Amanda took her pad back and began writing again. Brittany just sat, struck deaf and dumb by the silence of the room.
"My biggest fear has been to die alone," Brittany read. There was more written, but Brittany handed it back.
"What about Roger? You have him, don't you?"
Amanda flipped her pad over a few pages. "Yes, I do, but it's not the same thing. I love Roger, of course, but you're the owner of my heart. What would I be to die without you?"
Brittany read her girlfriend's words. Then read them again. "In a weird way, that makes sense. But I thought the idea was for you NOT to die. How do we keep that from happening?"
Amanda shrugged her shoulders. She got up and went to the window. It was snowing pretty hard this morning. The wind was blowing pretty well, too -- the snow fell almost sideways. The skies of gray pouring themselves upon the earth in a cold but comforting show of emotion. Amanda wiped a tear from her eye. She was so caught up in the moment that she didn't hear Brittany getting up.
Amanda jumped at her girlfriend's touch. Brittany held her in place, resting her head on Amanda's shoulder. "This is so not fair."
'Of course it's not fair,' Amanda thought, but let it pass. She decided to just enjoy this. Why waste the moment on fruitless comments?
"I see you're awake." Brittany and Amanda spun around to the door. Mrs. Williams stood in the small hallway, her arms folded over her middle.
"How long have you been standing there?" Brittany asked, fear spiking.
"Not long," her mom answered. Brittany let out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "I woke up at the sound of something banging on the wall."
"Oh, O.K." Brittany looked at the floor, hoping her mom would go away and make breakfast, or something. What she got was her mother's inquisitive stare. "What?"
"Is there something you'd like to tell me?"
"No, why would you ask?"
"Because the kitchen and dining room are spotless," her mother answered, nodding that direction, "and you're fully awake before six in the morning." Brittany forgot all about that. Her mother cocked an eyebrow at her hesitation.
Brittany and Amanda looked at each other, then moved back to the bed. "I had a bad dream so I decided to get myself a snack. I made a mess so I cleaned it up." Amanda noticed Brittany's lip quivering, she was certain her mother saw it too.
"O.K.," she said smiling. Brittany exhaled another deep breath. "You should make messes more often." With that she turned around and went back to her room. Brittany felt guilty for not telling her the full truth, but what else could she do?
Brittany looked over her shoulder at Amanda, who was still stunned by everything. "I'm going to get some sleep," she said getting up. She left the bedroom and headed for the couch. Amanda just sat in her stupor pondering how one dream could fuck with Brittany so much.
Brittany awoke wrapped in a blanket, surrounded by silence. As her eyes adjusted, the living room was still dark but the storm had stopped. She blew a lock of hair out of her face knowing that she would be spending the afternoon shoveling snow. Exciting. She stood up and stretched. Glancing out the window, Brittany had to do a double-take.
Amanda was outside shoveling snow from the walk that leads up to the porch. Her mother was in the driveway. She couldn't believe neither of them woke her up to help them out. She ran into her room to get dressed. even though her closet was still in disarray from her last tournament. She threw her heavy coat onto her bed, followed by a hat and gloves. She quickly put on a pair of jeans, stopping when something felt off.
Curious, she put her hand in her right pocket and came out with a piece of paper. It was crumpled and tattered, but Brittany found that he could unravel it. She saw some ink smears on the edges. As she unfolded it, she knew this was not from Amanda's note pad. There were numbers; it looked like a phone number. The words at the top had been washed out by the machine. Brittany studied the number, trying to remember who gave her this. . ."It's from this area code. . ."
Forgetting about Amanda and her mom for the moment, Brittany picked up her cell phone. She studied each number before dialing it. Apparently it's a real number -- another phone was ringing.
"Hello?" came a familiar voice. Brittany almost slapped her head for forgetting about it.
"Hi, Misty. It's Brittany."
"Oh, hey Brit." She heard her friend say something to someone, but couldn't make it out. "How have you been? It's been a while."
"Yes it has." Brittany couldn't get over how lame she was sounding. But then again, how do you lose a friend's phone number after you put it in a place where you'd remember it?
"What's going on?"
"Not much. I found your phone number and decided to give you a call." She weighed the options in her head for a moment. "Do you have a minute?"
"Sure, Brit. What can I do you for?"
Brittany let out a breath, making her decision. "Well, what do you know about the meaning of dreams?"
"Brittany I consider myself an intelligent woman. I own Masters Degrees in physics and mathematics, plus a Bachelors in engineering. I work in an office in a football stadium. . ."
"Point taken," Brittany interrupted. "But you can't tell me that you haven't had that dream that. . . meant something."
"Of course I have. Both Anne and I had a dream about our daughter years before we had her. Where you going with this?"
"Can you tell me about it? Please?"
"Well," Misty started, "Anne and I were sitting on our patio, watching a little girl play in the yard. She was happy, smiling but never said a word. She would sign to us 'I love you, mommies', and we would sign back. I always knew that little girl was our daughter, but it took her birth to piece together the part about the signing. As virtually everyone knows, Alyshia was born without vocal chords."
"What did it feel like to make the connection?"
Misty thought for a moment. "Hmm, you know I've never really thought about it. I was too overwhelmed with the news that she will never speak to think about it. I guess, in retrospect, it was like being hit by a truck."
Brittany rubbed her forehead. "Weird that you should put it that way."
"Why's that?"
"I guess you haven't heard the news around here recently?" Brittany could almost hear Misty's head shake. "One of my best friends, Tina, was hit by a car not too long ago. She's in a coma right now."
Misty let out a gasp, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh my god, Brittany, I'm sorry. Do you know who hit her?"
"Yes, but no one but Amanda and my mom believes me; the police won't look into it for a 'lack of evidence', or so I was told. It was my ex, Kayla."
"Oh, shit! Brit, I'm so sorry. But what makes you think it was your ex?"
Brittany sat back on the bed, feeling the mental strain weighing her down. "Tina's little sister said she saw the whole thing. She could describe everything down to the paint marks on the truck that hit her. . .and then took off."
"Brittany that's terrible, but what does this have to do with your dreams?"
"Well," Brittany took a reassuring breath before starting. "I've been having this recurring nightmare about Amanda and me, and her dead wife, Sarah -- I'll tell you that story another time. But they were married in the asylum they were both sentenced to and the dream takes place in the office of one of the guards that abused them both. In the dream, Sarah is on the desk being raped by their demon, or at least that's what Amanda called Him. She comes into the room only when He allows her to enter. I come in like magic, or something, halfway through their conversation, which is little more than Amanda begging Him to leave all of us alone. . I take a few swings at Him, trying to get Him to stop, but I go right through Him and into the wall. He finally finishes and goes on like He's proud of Himself.
"Anyway, the three of us have been led to believe that Amanda created this dream world for our own torture. But He corrects that and says that we are all bound to Him by tragedy, heartache and murder. Sarah was murdered, and Tina nearly was. But what makes it even more disturbing is that He said that Amanda won't be rid of Him, but I will. That means that Amanda has to. . . die."
A silence took hold on both ends of the phone. "Misty?"
"Brittany, I don't know what to tell you," came a sullen voice. "I'm a businesswoman. What you need is a good shrink. Have you tried calling my dad?"
"So, you think I'm crazy, too, then, is that it? Brittany said harshly. "I know I"m not crazy. Ya know, it's because of people like you and your dad that most people are afraid to talk about these kinds of things and --."
"Stop that right now!" Misty shot back. "I'm not implying that you're crazy. All I'm saying is my dad's a better person to talk to about something like this; he's the expert, not me. I'm your friend. A friend that YOU called, so get off this whole whiny little brat horse you're riding and calm down." There was a pause while both of them adjusted to that last bit.
"Is there anymore advise, mom?" Brittany asked snidely. "Or is that my life lesson for today?"
Misty paused before answering that. "I don't know what the best words are for you, Brit, but I learned a long time ago that you can't control things that are beyond your control. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. I couldn't control becoming a lesbian; I couldn't control falling in love with Annebell Amera; nor could I control Alyshia being born without the ability to speak. If what you've told me is true, then you can't control what's going to happen. Don't try; you'll only drive yourself insane."
Brittany snapped her phone shut and threw it across the room. A sound escaped her that could only be described as inane babble. She dropped her head into her hands, her fingers digging into her scalp. "God damn it!"
"Brittany, honey," her mom said, rushing through the door, "is everything okay in here? We heard a loud thump."
"Why does my life have to be so goddamn fucked up?" she asked, her shaking voice making her sound like a scared five year old. "Why does so much bad shit happen to me, mommy? First dad and Brandon die, then Kayla turns out to be a crazy bitch who nearly kills my best friend, and now Amanda is going to die and there isn't a damn thing anyone can do about it. All I want to know is why!"
Her mother took the vacant seat beside her. She cradled her daughter in her arms like at the double funeral all those years ago. Brittany wasn't crying. She wasn't sad. She was frustrated . . . angry at the world and all the trouble it's worth. Angry at the way life has treated her and her inability to do anything about it. When she got a look at her daughter's face, Mrs. Williams stared into the eyes of an insane person--out of her mind with rage, on the verge of killing someone. But in Brittany's mind, the better target was herself.