Hiya, gang.
I haven't forgotten about you, I've just been really busy and haven't been online for a few days. I've added to the story and thought I'd put part 16 back up as a refresher. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting for so long. Hope you are all doing great.
Here ya go.
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(Part 16)
Alex awoke from another horror. Just like the night before, he yelled out, and bolted straight up in the bed. Dee Dee didn’t say a word this time. Her heart was racing from the startling scream, but she maintained her position in bed. She didn’t ask about the dream and he didn’t tell her either. He got out bed and went into his office. He tried to shake the visions of the dream from his head, but found it difficult to do. He began typing on his computer. The words and thoughts easily came to mind, and he quickly typed them before losing a single reflection. There were things that needed to be said to one of the women in his life and though the cowardly way of expressing his feelings, he saw fit to put his words on paper for her to read when he felt it was time.
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Five days had passed since Alex spoke with an irate Monica Fallon. Her plane was due to arrive in just over an hour, and Alex knew the task of calling things off with her wouldn’t be easy. Keeping her in his life would be one of the worst things for him, and he’d remind himself of that as he gave his explanation. He would tell her that he couldn’t let the drugs ruin everything he’d built. She would no doubt remind him of how she was there for him at any time, and how she was the one to help him cope with the issues of a phony marriage.
Alex’s mind ran through his reasons for ending his relationship with Miss Fallon. “If I’d never met Monica, things wouldn’t be so screwed up. I never imagined things would go so wrong. I want her out of my life and I want her gone for good. I don’t care what happens to her, and as I don’t have to deal with her again.” As he sat waiting in her apartment, he made a decision to drink vodka instead of the bourbon and turned on the television. He didn’t find anything interesting, so he basically kept it on for background noise.
“We interrupt this program for a breaking news story.” Alex didn’t pay much attention, but did hear the announcement, as the male reporter continued with the message.
“Good afternoon, I’m Taylor Aaronson with News Twenty-six. We have just received updated news of a six passenger plane, which crashed in France earlier today.”
Alex hadn’t heard any report before this and was clueless about the accident. After hearing the words plane and France; Alex suddenly grew interested in the newscast as the announcement continued.
“We now go to Kiyah Rowen, at the scene of the accident. Kiyah. What more can you tell us about the accident?” Turning the sound up, Alex listened intently to the broadcast as Miss Rowen gave her report.
“Well, Taylor, as reported earlier, it is a small plane, a six passenger plane; to be exact. For those just tuning in, I’m standing at the crash site, which is only about a twenty-five minute drive from the airport where the plane took off. Sadly, as you can see, there isn’t much left of the craft, which began its voyage in Paris. The plane’s left wing touched down first, sending the aircraft into a horrible cartwheel flip. Authorities here at the site, say from the look of the craft, it must have tumbled several times before halting. Thankfully there was no explosion to ignite the plane and the surrounding wooded area.
Alex’s eyes widened at the sight of fallen trees and spots of brown muddied earth which had been grassy areas before the crash. His heart skipped a beat at the images of the plane that had parts broken off due to impact, and wondered if it were possible to have survivors. His wondering was about to end.
“All six passenger seats were occupied and sadly, all six, along with pilot and co-pilot were killed in the crash. It’s a horrible thing that has happened here. As far as the cause of the crash, it has been reported that one of the engines lost complete power. The co-pilot made a distress call to the tower, and at that time reported that an engine had completely stopped without any warning. Before he could give any more information, the radio transmission shut down, and the tower tried to get a response several times without success.”
“Kiyah. I know that there are two homes near the crash site. As I stated earlier, no one in or around these homes were injured. I’d like to be sure that the information was correct. Was the report accurate?”
“Yes, Taylor, it is accurate. The pilot or pilots skillfully managed to keep the plane up and away from the two homes, bringing it to the small wooded area just beyond. Only a very short time ago, this crumpled piece of metal was airborne with a destination to London, England and now you see the tragic end to its flight. My heart goes out to to victims’ families. I’m Kiyah Rowen, reporting live from Paris, France.”
The camera was now focused on Taylor Aaronson. “Thank you Kiyah. At the moment this is all we have to report. I know family and friends are anxious to hear if their loved ones were on this flight, but as you know, we cannot disclose such information at this time. The identities will be made public as soon as all family members are contacted and give their consent to release the names. For News Twenty-Six, I’m Taylor Aaronson.”
Alex sat quietly for an hour. The names still hadn’t been released and he was getting more and more agitated. There would be no call from the authorities since she lived alone, but he waited for the phone to ring, believing that Monica would call to say she was safe; that she didn’t take the flight. The only other place he could think of that would get a call, was her boutique. The assistant manager, Kaci would have the answer. Hesitating for a few seconds, afraid to hear the answer, Alex made the call to the simply named establishment ‘Monica’s Boutique.’ A voice he wasn’t sure he recognized answered. “Monica’s Boutique. May I help you?”
“May I speak to Kaci, please?”
The young female voice faltered while replying. “Um…she’s busy right now. May I take a message?”
“It’s really important that I speak to her. Tell her it’s Alex.” The girl sniffled a little before saying okay, placing the phone on the counter and getting Kaci from the office.
“Alex?”
“Yeah. Have you heard from her?”
Kaci’s voice trembled with her words. “The news…didn’t you see…”
“I saw it, but I need to be sure.”
“She was on flight 323. It was her plane. She’s gone, Alex. Monica’s gone.” Kaci was taken over with emotion and gave the phone back to the young girl.
“Sir, are you still there?”
A lump formed in Alex’s throat; halting his reply. “Uh, yeah, I’m here. Tell Kaci to call if she needs me.” With that, the conversation ended and he hung up the phone. He remained at the apartment for several hours. His thoughts of their last conversation maintained a steady rhythm in his head. He hated that Monica was so angry with him and felt her emotions were unchanged as she sat on that plane. He visualized that within minutes of take-off, her feelings of anger and betrayal had turned into terror and helplessness. He wanted to be rid of Monica, but not like this. Never had he imagined such a thing as her dying would be the answer to his problems. He may not have shed many tears, but nevertheless, they were shed.
The doorbell rang, and after answering, he saw a familiar young man with a bouquet of flowers wrapped in blue paper. It was the regular delivery guy known by Joe, and as usual, the flowers were a cover for the more precious package hidden within the blue paper. Cocaine. Alex had forgotten Monica’s message that it would arrive about the same time she did. Alex didn’t mention anything about Miss Fallon. He figured if Joe didn’t know he’d find out soon enough. Alex told him he didn’t want the coke, but paid him for it anyway, and gave him an extra one-hundred dollars for his trouble. Joe didn’t question the action. He took the money and went to his next destination.
Alex took one more walk through the apartment, picking up a few personal items he’d left there before, and thought of the times he’d spent with Monica there. He wondered what it would have been like if they’d been actual friends for the time they were together. One last glance around the apartment, and he left for the very last time.
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Mrs. Turnan sat on the edge of the bed as she watched the latest crash information on the late news. She was saddened with thoughts of how the families must feel during this time.
Alex, who had obviously been drinking, literally staggered into the bedroom, while his wife didn’t know what to expect from him. Neither said a word, as the broadcast continued.
“We have a list of the victims’ names ready for release.” The names were given, along with a statement that both pilots and all passengers were natives of France. All of the passengers but one, that is.
After Monica’s name was read, Dee Dee gasped slightly with surprise. She remembered that Alex had told her Monica’s last name, the night the truth came out about her. She glanced over at Alex who was leaning against the wall. His eyes were fixed on the television.
“Miss Monica Fallon, a local proprietor of the successful “Monica’s Boutique”, was a thriving young business woman, taking on a new venture in fashion design. She had been expected to open more boutiques in such areas as Milan, New York and Paris. Those in the fashion industry were anxious to work with this up and coming new talent. Miss Fallon is survived by her parents and two brothers. All reside in Birmingham, England. Funeral arrangements will be announced in the local newspaper. Again, local proprietor Monica Fallon is dead at age thirty. Our sympathies go out to her family and friends.”
Dee Dee didn’t know what to say and even if she did, she didn’t know if she should say anything at all. She hated that Monica and Alex were lovers and teammates in the game of making a fool of her, but she didn’t wish death upon her. A picture of Monica had been put up during the broadcast. Up until then, Dee Dee had a vague idea of what she looked like from the descriptions Alex gave; short dark hair, and dark brown eyes, but she didn’t figure she was as beautiful and popular in the business world as she was. It was hard to believe that such an innocent looking young woman could join Alex and add so much turmoil to her life.
As Alex listened to the report, flashes of the dream he’d had about Monica appeared in his head. He felt his heartbeat racing beyond any usual tempo. It was as if he was asleep having the dream again. Everything was so clear. He could hear Monica calling his name, but couldn’t see anything at all. It was pitch black but he could feel the presence of people around him, but none of their faces were visible. Monica’s voice was from a distance and she called for him to come to her. When he approached her, she looked as beautiful as she always had. He could hear indistinct voices from the unseen people around him. The closer he stepped toward Monica, the louder the voices became. He turned to see who it was, but saw nothing. As he continued to go to Monica, she was in clear view, and he could see she wore a long white negligee. Again, he heard the voices from the darkness. This time the words were clearer. They were warning him stay away from Monica. He heard one voice that was undeniably his own. He heard himself say “Leave her…leave the drugs and save yourself. You’ll lose everything. You’ll lose your life.” The closer he got to Monica, the more attracted he was to her. He felt he couldn’t turn away if he wanted too. Although there was complete darkness, he could see her face as her perfect figure in the white negligee teased his senses. He stood about a foot away from her as she extended a glass plate with lines of coke waiting to be inhaled. Just as he was about to take a line for himself, a drop of blood hit the plate. He figured it was another usual nosebleed and started to wipe it away with a handkerchief. When the handkerchief came away clean, he realized that Monica’s nose was bleeding profusely. The blood was pouring from her nose like water from a faucet. He offered to help her, but she declined as if nothing was wrong. To his surprise she leaned over the plate and inhaled the coke as the blood continued to pour. She looked up at him with a look in her eyes he’d never seen. She looked as if she had no soul, like she was possessed by something unknown, with black coal-like circles where her eyes should be. He felt ultimate fear and turned to run, only to have Monica’s hands grab him by the shoulders. As struggled to free himself, he caught a glimpse of Monica’s right hand from the corner of his eye. Her hand was turning gray, and soon became an ash-like substance. He yelled in fear, but before he could take another action, he saw that his own hands were taking on the same form as Monica’s. She managed to turn him to face her, and that’s when he saw that her entire body had become a gray, decaying, form which was like nothing he’d ever seen. She spoke. “It’s time to go, Alex. It’s time for us to spend all eternity together, just the way we’re meant to.”
He screamed and tried unsuccessfully to get away. Soon he saw that his own body became a decayed mass and he felt all life drain from within.
It was always at this point that he woke up, most likely from the sound of his own screams. The same dream had continued for days. He’d never mentioned the dreams to Dee Dee, Monica or anyone else. With each episode the scenes grew more and more intense. At times he felt that he would burst from the stress of it all. The dreams and the meanings behind them were becoming unbearable and he’d just found a quick way to deal with them.
“Stop it!” Alex yelled the two words to his wife before moving to the center of the room.
After a startled jump, and without a clue as to what he meant, she looked up at him with all innocence. “Stop what? What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about! You’re sitting there rejoicing over Monica’s death!”
“That’s not true. I’m not happy that she died.”
“Yes you are! You know that with her dead, you don’t have to worry about anything else she could do to you! You’re glad you don’t have to deal with her destroying you!”
Dee Dee didn’t know where he coming from with those accusations. “Alex, I swear to you, that I’m not happy that Monica is dead. And I hate that her family has to suffer the loss. You and she made a joke out of our marriage, and I’m sorry that I got trapped into it, but I cannot celebrate the fact that she’s dead.”
Moving closer, taking her by the arm with force, Alex snatched his wife from the bed.
“Stop lying to me!” Dee Dee’s back was pushed against the wall while Alex continued to scream. “You couldn’t handle what she was doing to you! You wanted her out of your life for good, didn’t you?! You knew she was going to ruin you!” Alex stared coldly at his wife before releasing his grip and leaving the room. Moments later Dee Dee heard him drive away; knowing he was drunk and had no business being behind the wheel. She was a little shaken by the event, but couldn’t sit by while he could be putting someone’s life in danger.
“Yes, I’d like to report a drunk driver.” Anonymously, she continued to give the police the direction he drove in, the make and model of his Mercedes, and the time she saw him leave the area.
It was after midnight before she went to bed, and thankfully no one had called with news of Alex being in an accident, possibly seriously injuring someone or killing them. Maybe he’d been put in jail for the rest of the night. It would serve him right, for most of everything he’d done.
For hours Dee Dee lay awake; without so much of an occasional dozing, wondering why Alex accused her the way he did. Checking the clock, she saw it was five thirty-two and Alex still hadn’t returned. She was tired of lying in the bed without sleep and her desire for a bowl of strawberry ice cream grew stronger. After returning from the kitchen, she sat in middle of the bed with the bowl in her hand. A click of the remote control powered the television which was full of infomercials. It really didn’t matter what was on, as she replayed Alex’s actions in her head over and over. Something kept nagging at her that Alex seemed more or less to be shouting the blame to her, but not actually blaming her specifically. If she had to explain her thoughts to someone else, it wouldn’t be easy as she wasn’t quite sure how to explain it to herself yet.
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Three days later a memorial service was held for Monica at Walker & Walker funeral home. Alex arrived before the service to say a final goodbye alone. A lovely picture of Miss Fallon was supported by an easel, several varieties of flowers from family and friends surrounded the room, and the final piece of evidence to remind Alex why he was there, was the urn. The exquisite vase-like container was white with a delicate hint of gold leafing. It was the same one in the picture Monica showed him several months ago. She always said you can’t plan for these things too soon. The only thing different about the urn in the picture, was that it didn’t have the name Monica Rene Fallon printed in gold on it. Alex said his last goodbye and walked away.
Later that night Alex fell asleep in his office. He’d had another horrible dream, but this time it wasn’t about Monica. It was similar others he had before, where a woman cries for her child which has been forcibly taken from her arms. As he tried to make himself aware of his surroundings the cold chills and beads of sweat on his face and neck made for an unpleasant combination. The dream replayed in his head as he wasn’t fully awake and sure that he was in his own home, in the room he used as an office. Sitting up on the sofa, he realized that there were no echoes of a woman pleading for help and no rippling puddles of blood at his feet. He wanted the dreams to stop, but wasn’t sure how to end them or why they even started. Or did he?
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