****
The worlds we exist in are both insane, and melodic. You need to realize, that before you begin this story, nothing we know is as it seems. Let’s take my own corner of the world for example. On the surface, I’m happily married, I have a family, a job that pays me pretty well, and friends that at least seem to care. But, dig a little deeper and the world you see caves in on itself.
Why do you say that?
Because my fairy tale world doesn’t exist. It never has, at least not for the last dozen years, give or take a bit. That’s because I’m living a life that no one would believe is real. I’m hiding secrets, lots of them, and no one I know, knows anything about it.
I’m a truck driver and a serial killer.
Now I get what you’re thinking. That was a little quick, right? How the hell is he going to come out and admit that right in the beginning. I did that on purpose. Because I want those that know me to have the truth, right out in the open right in the beginning. Then they can put down this book should they choose to.
If you’ve decided not to do that, then I thank you. There are a lot of demons in this book. There are a lot of things that have eaten at me and I want to get them out there in the open. So, why don’t we take a step back, breathe some fresh air, and start at the beginning.
****
Tom stopped reading. He glanced from the empty notepad on his desk, to a calendar which counted down to the deadline. He picked up a pencil and wrote out an idea, Man leads double life haunted by those he killed. Tom glanced from the idea, to the book in his hand. That’s damn near plagiarism he thought.
He had so many ideas he wanted to write. None of them called to him the way he would hope, with the deadline hanging over his head. Instead he sat the pencil down and began again.
****
My life wasn’t miserable by any means. My mom and dad loved me like normal children. But from an early age I knew I was different.
I don’t mean different in the essence I'm here to change the world or some strange thing like that. I mean different like I didn’t fit in with people. As a kid I was made fun of, looking back it kind of made sense. I liked a lot of things that people my age didn’t like. I enjoyed horror movies; I liked dark music, and I had a friend, one no one could see.
His name was Eddie, and I loved him like a brother. Everyone swears that they never could see him but I knew better. I could still describe him if I had to. He went with me everywhere. My parents one time sat me down and talked to me, almost like they were afraid of what was happening around them.
“William, what’s going on with you?”
I stared at them confused. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve noticed that you’re talking to yourself.”
“No, I don’t talk to myself. I talk to Eddie a lot.”
“Whose Eddie?”
“He’s my friend. He’s sitting right here next to me.”
Both of them looked at the empty spot on the couch. I knew then that they didn’t believe me. I was okay with that though. My dad pressed on.
“Where did you meet Eddie?”
“I was walking home from school one day and he showed up.”
Both of them looked at me, and the empty spot on the couch again. This time they looked disappointed. I didn’t understand it at the time but they thought I was insane. Maybe I am, that part I’m not sure about, even today.
They didn’t bring Eddie up again after that, neither did I. Though that day made me think more about the friends I kept, which turned out to not be a lot. I'm okay with that.
****
Tom looked up from the book. He looked at the sole sentence written on the notebook on his desk. He picked up the pencil and tapped it on the desk, trying not to scream. Instead he tossed the notebook across the office and the papers furrowed out.
“Damn it.” He yelled.
Jennifer came down the hallway. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just can’t seem to find a damn idea that sticks to anything worth writing.”
“What about all of those ideas in your notebook?”
“None of them are calling to me. I want something different, at least that’s what I think I want.”
He turned in the office chair and looked out through the one window toward the back woods that bordered their property.
“I think I’ll go for a walk.”
“Okay,” She said as he passed her. She stared after him as he closed the back door behind him.
Chapter 10
Tom walked into the woods. He shielded his eyes for a moment while they adjusted to the brightness. The warmth of the weather put him in a better mood. He stared out ahead of him and walked, not sure of a direction, or destination. He had made it about a hundred yards into the overgrowth when the trees swallowed the path behind him. It was in that moment he felt at home.
“What in the hell am I looking for?”
He waited, trying to debate on the answer himself. Then he heard a voice that wasn’t quite his own, talking inside his head. You want an idea you can write and sell to Doubleday.
“I know what the problem is. I just don’t know where I can find that idea.”
Inside your own head. The voice retorted, almost mocking him.
“But…” He paused. He didn’t have the words. In his life even through some of the worst moments he’d never talked to himself.
But are you talking to yourself? The voice asked him.
“If I’m not talking to myself, then who am I talking to?”
I call it your mind working on all levels. That’s what you need right? Your mind to work on the highest levels to make sure you’re able to come up with a good idea.
“If that’s true then what am I looking for?”
He scanned around the trees. He’d always pictured himself as one of those guys that was good at developing ideas. This was a true test. He continued to walk on. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
What is it that’s calling to you?
“I’m not sure, it’s almost like nothing out here should be here.”
What do you mean?
He paused again as he peered over at the tree. As he walked further inward, he heard what he thought was a scream. He stopped and shook it off.
You heard that too?
He shook the voice off and continued to walk. When he was sure he would not find anything he came through the trees and into a clearing. He walked forward and saw that the clearing had to be almost 200 feet across and perfectly round.
“What in the hell is this?”
It kind of looks like the place an alien would land.
The lightbulb flickered to life.
“I’ve never written an alien story.”
There’s a first for every idea.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Before he could save the idea it flashed twice and died without explanation. He began running in the direction he thought was home while dodging through trees and moving as fast as he felt comfortable. He burst through the trees onto his yard and ran up the small hill to his house. Once inside, he tore through the house and got to his office and started writing the idea down.
What if an alien race invades a small town and takes over the bodies of its people turning them against one another while trying to start a massive war on earth with the sole purpose of harvesting this planet.
He dropped the pencil and reread it out loud as he finished Jennifer appeared in the doorway.
“I’ll take that as a good sign?”
“It’s better than a good sign,” He started. “I think this is my next book.”
Chapter 11
That night they were getting ready for bed. As Jennifer was about to turn off the lights she turned and looked at him.
“What happened out in the woods today?” She asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You ran through the house like something was on fire. I’d never seen you like that before.”
“To be honest, I think a lot of it was because I was so fired up about the idea.”
“It seems like something different for sure, at least for you.”
“Yeah, I’ve already got a rough outline scribbled down. I’ll map it all out tomorrow.”
“Do you think you’ll hit the deadline?”
“I hope so, if I don’t I’m not sure what happens.”
“Can they repeal the contract?”
“I suppose they can, if I don’t hold up my end of it.”
“Then let’s not let that happen.” She gave him a kiss as she turned the lights out.
He laid back in bed. The day was passing through his brain in a blur. He smiled knowing he’d found an idea he liked enough to want to work on. It was one of those “highs” as a writer that only people who had done it would understand. He wrote for moments like this.
He smiled and settled into sleep.
****
Tom was back in the woods again, but this time he found himself already in the clearing. He looked across trying to see what was on the other side but couldn’t. He took two steps forward.
“Daddy?” He heard a voice call. He spun around trying to see something but nothing was there. Tom looked back over his shoulder and again something caught his eye on the other side of the clearing. He made his way toward it.
What is that? He thought. Halfway across he heard laughing. It froze him in his tracks as he tried to choke down a scream.
“Whose there?” He called out. He felt foolish but stood his ground. Only silence answered him. In the distance he heard the birds singing their song. He stood rooted and fixed on something that was grabbing his attention. He paced across the clearing, stopping short of the other side. The person on the ground sat with their back to him, staring at the trees.
“Are you okay?”
The person continued to face away from him, sitting in silence. He walked up and put his hand on their shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
They spun around almost knocking him over. In that moment he’d lost all control and let a scream escape his lips. The person who was kneeling down before him was missing almost all of their face. What was left of it, including the eye sockets were running with blood.
“What in the hell?”
The mouth, which hung agape twisted into a smile.
“Do you not love me daddy? I mean you’re the reason I’m dead. You’re the reason I look like this.”
His heart thundered in his chest. Everything told him to run. However, he was rooted to the spot. Time stood still as he stared into the eyes of the child he’d never met.
“This is how you left me. This is the hell you created for me.” It reached out with a twisted hand and tried to grab Tom’s arm. He thought it had missed him, but he felt something on his arm. He glanced down and saw fresh blood covering not one, but both of his arms.
“No one will save you. I’ve been screaming for years and all I’ve only been left behind.” The thing lunged out and before Tom could move, it trapped him, tackling him to the ground. He fought, but it climbed on top of him, blocking his vision and the world went dark.
****
“Tom, wake up.”
His vision was blurry as he came out of the nightmare he’d been in. He saw Jennifer shaking him by the shoulders. He blinked a few times trying to bring the world into focus, stopping himself from screaming again.
“What happened?”
“You were screaming. I woke you up.”
“What was I saying?”
“You were talking about daddy and how you’d messed up. I thought you were having a normal nightmare until you screamed. Then I woke you.”
Toms heart was thundering almost out of his chest. She slid over out of the way so he had a little room. He sat there trying to catch his breath.
“What was it you were dreaming about?”
He stared into the floor and took deep breaths trying to get his heart under control. “I was dreaming about our unborn child.” He stopped, even after all this time those words carried a weight he wasn’t ready to let go of.
“Why?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, from time to time it happens. I hate that it does and wish I could forget it but it doesn’t work that way.”
“Why would you want to forget it?”
“Because, I’ve never hurt you so bad, and it kills me to know I’m the reason we lost him.”
She stared at him, thinking of what to say. Instead, she moved on.
“Maybe it’s better that it happened.”
He looked sideways at her. “There’s no way you mean that.”
“Honestly, I don’t know if I do or not. I don’t know how life would have been different. You realize you might have reached your dreams if the baby had come along?”
He looked at her and back at the floor. “I don’t know if it was worth it.”
“Does it matter at this point? Are you going to abandon everything because of the nightmares?” She didn’t give him a chance to think about it. “You’ve worked your ass off so don’t throw it away. Not now, don’t do that to yourself, all it will do is make you miserable, and that’s not fair either.”
He thought he would cry, but he stopped himself.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need, what’s the past is the past—“She stopped herself in mid sentence. “You know it’s not all your fault right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the miscarriage wasn’t just your fault. I’ve never told you this but I feel like it might be time. I was always a high-risk pregnancy. It wasn’t something I wanted to tell you because I was afraid that it might change the way you felt about us and having kids. The doctor told me I had a 10 percent chance of being able to keep the baby to full term. That’s the reason a fall like that could cause me to lose him.”
Tom stared almost lost. “Still, if I hadn’t lost my temper and pushed you, then that’s a 10 percent chance we’d had the baby.”
“Life has a funny way of working out. You could let it bother you all the time, but that achieves nothing.”
“How do you handle it?”
She took a breath. “I’ve put it behind me, at least somewhat. I won’t lie, it comes to my mind every so often, but I try not to let it haunt me. If I did that then living my life frozen all the time, and that's no way to live.”
He sat there trying to bring himself to agree with her, but it wasn’t working.
“Why don’t you lay back down and try to get some sleep?”
His gaze had never left the floor. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all you can do.” She said. She kissed him on the cheek before turning the light off and laying back down.
Chapter 12
The next morning Tom got out of bed and went to his office. He closed the door and sat in the chair with a cup of coffee. He stared at the open project on his computer and thought about the story itself.
“What the hell do I want to do with this?”
He had a rough outline, but he wasn’t sure how to start the story.
“What’s so hard about this, this time around.”
Because you’re on a deadline for the first time and your brain won’t work. It’s shutting itself off because you’re putting so much pressure on yourself.
“Then how do I fix it.”
This time the voice in his head went silent. He stared at the documents open on his computer. He had a line of the chapters with small bits of information next to them but he couldn’t get the first lines down.
“I might as well develop the characters, it won't matter much if I don’t like them.” He laughed. “Hell, I’ve killed them for less.”
As he went to open his character spreadsheet, his phone went off. He looked at it and hit the answer button.
“What’s up Jason?”
“Just calling you to check up and see how things are going on your end.”
Tom le
aned back in the chair and stared at the wall. “To be honest, it’s stalling, I can’t seem to get anything off the ground. I have a decent idea but past that I’m lost.”
“Why’s that?”
He thought back to the conversation he just had with himself. “I’m putting extra pressure on myself for no reason.”
“Have you not done that before?”
“Not really, never thought I needed to. If people liked what I wrote then that was great if not then so be it.”
“I understand that.”
Tom sat there in silence for a second. “I have a question for you.”
“Okay?”
“What happens if I can’t finish this book by the deadline?”
“I suppose the deal goes off the table. They were adamant about you finishing the first book for them fast. I’d guess it’s so they can capitalize on the wave of popularity you have. I couldn’t blame them there.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to force something that sucks.”
“It won’t be bad, you’re a fantastic writer. You will put greatness on paper either way. Why not get paid better to do it?”
Tom smiled. “Thanks, I think.”
“I meant it as a pep talk.”
“Good. I needed it.”
“Then let’s hang up the phone and get started. That book won’t write itself.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“So then write.” Jason added with a laugh.
“I’ll get to it.” Tom said as he hung up the phone. He sat it back over in the corner of the desk and returned to staring at the screen on his computer.
Leather Bound Page 3