Revelations Page 2
They were certainly walking faster than she was, but no one passed. She glanced behind her. All she could see was the swirling snow.
She increased her speed, feeling cold sweat run down her neck. The footsteps remained. Miranda saw the building up ahead, festively lit, a bright beacon in the dark. She even heard the music and laughter spill out into the quiet night. All she had to do was get past an alley. “Almost there.” She encouraged herself. The footsteps behind her remained, matching her stride.
Miranda reached the alley when she was pulled off her feet and slammed into the frozen ground. She didn’t have time to call out as she saw the flash of a serrated blade in the moonlight come toward her at lightning speed. The blade tore into her chest. The pain took her breath away. Her blood ran on the freshly fallen snow. As she watched the blood pool, her vision faded to black.
*
Shadows crept along the wall like ghosts. Miranda watched them in a trance-like state as they interacted with each other, with her. A cold sweat prickled on her forehead. Her breathing came in short, raspy breaths.
The aromatic candle on her bedside table flickered in the breeze of the open window. She had only been asleep for five minutes, but the dream had felt like it had taken hours to complete. Putting stock in dreams was foolish, Miranda knew, but she couldn’t help but feel as though she should cancel her flight to Denver in the morning.
*
“Don, I just can’t.” Miranda cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder.
“You still haven’t given me a satisfactory answer why I have to cancel this meeting. Miranda, this is one of our most lucrative clients!” Don was losing his patience.
“I know, but can’t you send Michael? He’s great at this kind of thing.”
“I guess I must.” Don was silent for a moment. “You know, I’m getting the feeling that you’re edging out on me.”
“What?” Miranda took the phone into her hand to prepare herself for what was coming.
“It seems like you don’t want this job anymore.”
“I want my job!”
“Three meetings you’ve canceled in the last two months, all with our most important clients! That tells me you no longer want your job.” What little patience Don had left evaporated. “I’ll send Michael to Denver, but Monday morning you need to clean out your desk.”
Miranda was speechless. “Don, come on. You know I love my job. I need my job.”
“It’s done.” The line went dead.
Miranda looked at her kitchen counter. “Fuck.” She muttered as she placed the phone gently on the table.
An odd sense of guilt and relief washed over her. Miranda couldn’t give him a satisfactory excuse for canceling on one of their most important clients, a client that trusted Miranda. She couldn’t tell her boss she was canceling because she had a scary dream she was afraid might come true. It sounded absurd. She had thought a lot about the dream she had the night before. She recognized the city she was in, and it was Denver. She couldn’t take the chance.
*
“What are you doing tonight?” Miranda texted Allie.
“Jenny and I are gonna check out that new bar in Pullman.” Allie responded almost immediately.
“Thought you were in Denver.”
“Nope. Still home.”
“What happened?”
“Have time to talk?”
“Not really. Gotta leave soon. Wanna come?”
Miranda didn’t respond right away. The snow was becoming blizzard material, and her car was in the shop. She’d have to walk, and she’d never been to Pullman. “Sure. What time?”
“8:30.”
“Great. You’ll never believe what happened to me today.” Miranda locked her phone and tossed it on the bed, heading for the shower. She needed a night out, if only to bitch about losing her job.
*
Miranda stepped out of the subway station one stop too early. Oh well. She thought. I could use the exercise. As she walked toward Pullman, theater marquees lit up the sidewalks and people rushed past her, either on their way to dinner or the theater. The frigid wind beat against Miranda’s back as she pulled up the hood on her trench coat.
Miranda walked for a few blocks as the snow worsened. Her visibility went from a 5 to a 1 in the blink of an eye. The cars that once honked and the people that once rushed past her faded to silence. Miranda squinted at the nearest building, trying to see the address. Another mile to go.
As Miranda walked on, the streetlights became fewer and before long she was using more of the moonlight than the streetlights to guide her way. She buried her chin in her coat and trudged on. As the snow swirled around her, Miranda realized that she didn’t recognize her surroundings. She must be in Pullman.
Before long, Miranda could hear the sounds of music and laughter up ahead. She saw the blinking of red and green lights through the wall of snow. That must be it. She thought as she picked up her pace. Then she heard snow crunching. Footsteps coming up fast behind her. She moved to one side of the sidewalk to let the person pass, but no one passed. Miranda glanced behind her but saw only snow.
The memory of the dream she had the night before slammed into her like a truck. It came so fast and so hard it almost took her breath away. Miranda ran. The crunching footsteps kept pace with her. She saw the lights of the bar up ahead, the music and laughter floating on the fierce wind. She was tackled to the ground before she could scream for help.
Miranda felt the blade tear through her skin into her back. “Help!” She managed, but her scream was weak. Pain seared through her; The red of her blood against the white of the snow an ugly contrast.
A final thought ran through Miranda’s mind. I should have gone to Denver.
Lunacy
“Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.”
Rebecca knew the moon had stolen her daughter.
Two days before Christmas Eve. Rebecca picked up Molli from her dorm room for the holiday break. The roads were snow-covered and slippery, and oncoming headlights combined with powerful winds made the lengthy journey down the highway difficult.
Molli sat in the front seat, seemingly oblivious to the road conditions. She happily chatted about her classes and friends. Rebecca rolled down her window a crack to see if the windows would defog.
“Oh! You’ve got to see this!” Molli unbuckled her seatbelt and turned her entire body toward the back seat, trying to reach her duffle bag.
“Molli, please, can’t it wait?” Rebecca struggled to keep the car on the road.
A powerful gust of wind blew the moonlight into the car. Rebecca swerved to avoid another vehicle drifting into her lane. She lost control of the car. The crunch of glass and metal filled the icy air. Rebecca saw the moonlight envelop her daughter.
There was no doubt—the moon had stolen Molli.
*
Molli’s funeral was two days after Christmas. As Rebecca and her husband, John, watched the casket being lowered into the frozen ground, Molli’s life flashed through her mind. The two of them baking cookies on chilly winter afternoons when Molli was a toddler, flour covering her face and hands, licking a chocolate-frosted spoon with the biggest grin. Molli running into the house, crying, after her first day of kindergarten because she missed her mommy. John squeezed her hand, and the memories vanished.
“I can’t do this.” Rebecca whispered to John as her eyes darted around the cemetery, searching for a way out.
John didn’t reply.
Unable to find an escape route, Rebecca’s eyes focused on Molli’s casket, the top now disappearing below ground. I’m not ready. She’s not ready. Rebecca’s thoughts screamed.
She felt unable to breathe. Her daughter wasn’t dead, and she wouldn’t be able to breathe underground.
“Stop this!” Rebecca hissed to John as the gravedigger began shoveling dirt into the grave.
John remained motionless.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Tears of desperation bl
urred Rebecca’s vision and she shook John’s hand as if to wake him.
“I heard you.” John finally said.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Rebecca’s desperation was quickly giving way to hysteria.
“She’s not dead!” She screamed aloud.
The ritual stopped. Everyone attending stared.
“I’m so sorry.” John addressed the crowd as he stood, attempting to make Rebecca stand with him.
She stood and allowed John to usher her away from the ceremony, but not before she cried, “The moon has her! She’s not dead!”
*
The looks of concern and pity after her outburst at the funeral were not as painful as being alone in bed, the moon staring at her through the window. Rebecca stared back at it while she listened to John explain to someone that she was okay, just having a hard time accepting that Molli’s gone.
John entered the room and found Rebecca lying on her side, staring through the uncurtained window. “It’s stuffy in here.” He said as he crossed the room and opened the window a crack.
A soft breeze blew the moonlight into the room and Rebecca could feel it wrapping itself around her. She shivered.
“Dinner’s ready.” John offered.
Rebecca didn’t reply.
John sighed and left the room.
Rebecca lay stiffly on the bed, the moonlight making her eyes water. She couldn’t watch it anymore. Rebecca rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
Shadows crept along the wood floor and up the wall to the ceiling. Rebecca watched, unmoving, as the shadows entered her field of vision and took shape in front of her eyes. The shapes molded themselves into the events of the accident. Shadows, blacker than black, played the scene on the ceiling like a silent film. The object that stood out the most—the moon.
The scene depicted the car crash; not what happened, but what Rebecca was sure of in her heart. The shadows the moon cast failed to depict the moon’s role. It was trying to convince her otherwise.
Tears in her eyes, Rebecca angrily flipped onto her side and stared at the moon again. “Give her back.” She repeated over and over like a mantra until her eyes finally closed.
*
“Mom?”
Rebecca opened her eyes.
The room flooded with blinding silver light. Rebecca felt like a block of ice. She knew it was the moon.
“Mom?”
Rebecca forced her eyes to adjust to the intense light and saw a slim silhouette standing in front of the window. She instinctively knew it was Molli. “Baby? You’re back!”
Molli shook her head. “I have to go. Just wanted to say hi.”
“No.” Rebecca was firm, getting out of bed to move closer to her daughter, but making no progress.
Molli turned toward the window.
“Don’t move!” Desperation crept into Rebecca’s voice.
Molli put her hand on the windowsill as if preparing to climb out.
The desperation that had been building in Rebecca took over. “Me!” She screamed, pounding on her chest. “Let me go instead.”
Molli glanced over her shoulder at her mother but didn’t move.
“Please!” Rebecca fell to her knees, clutching her chest.
Wind from the open window whipped into the room. The intense silver light seemed to grow brighter until Rebecca couldn’t see anything at all.
*
The next morning, John woke to find Rebecca wasn’t breathing. The ambulance arrived in minutes. Apparent heart attack. Rebecca died in her sleep.
John scrubbed his face with his hand and picked up the phone with the other. He dialed Molli’s dorm to tell her the news.
Anniversary
“They stumble that run fast.”
I found the hide-a-key inside a fake rock by her back door. I knew she wasn’t home yet, so this was the perfect opportunity. I let myself in and stood in her kitchen in the dark, listening. The house was silent. I made my way to the second floor; To her bedroom. She had a closet she never used. I slipped inside the closet and waited.
I heard her open the front door about a half hour later. She was talking on the phone as I heard her voice get closer. She was walking up the stairs, no doubt to her bedroom to get ready for their night out. I enjoyed surprising her, and this was the perfect opportunity. She wouldn’t suspect a thing. I stifled a laugh as her voice entered the bedroom, still on the phone.
“Yeah...Quick...No, nothing like that...Just one shot...Mm-hmm...Trezzini...Right...8 o’clock...I’ll be right next to him...You’ll see us…”
Who the hell was she talking to? She mentioned where I would be. Just one shot? To the head, perhaps? We were having our issues, and some were terrible, but I thought we were past that. And that, you know, she still loved me.
I felt sweat prickle my forehead. She disconnected the call and threw her phone on the bed. I was going to surprise her. This was supposed to be a romantic evening. It was our anniversary, and it sounded like she wanted me dead. I did not expect this. The more I thought about it, shock overwhelmed my system. Fear overwhelmed me. I couldn’t let her get away with this.
I emerged from my hiding place, surprising her like I had planned, but I was no longer stifling a laugh. My heart hurt. I could barely look at her.
“What are you doing here?” She smiled at me. Apparently, she thought my surprise amusing. “I thought we were meeting at the restaurant?”
Tears formed in the corners of my eyes as anger took over. How dare she. I didn’t know what to say to her, so I said nothing. Instead, I crossed the room and reached for her neck. Making contact, I squeezed as hard as I could, both of my thumbs pressing hard on the hollow of her throat.
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Her eyes widened until they looked as though they would pop right out of her skull. I increased the pressure as anger filled me. She turned red, then purple. Her eyes became bloodshot. This was taking longer than I had expected, but finally her body went limp and I let her fall to the floor.
Her phone buzzed as I heard the thump of her body hitting the floor. I reached for the phone. It was a confirmation message sent by text. I unlocked her phone and opened the message.
“Just Shoot Me Photography
Confirmation number: 09567423
Date: August 26, 2019
Time: 8:00pm
Location: Trezzini Restaurant
Price: $35.00
Paid in Full”
My hand trembled, making the phone shake as I read the message repeatedly. I had made a terrible mistake.
I wiped the drool that was forming at the corners of my mouth. I hoisted her body onto my shoulder and placed her gently on the bed. After arranging her hair away from her face, I unbuttoned her shirt and laid down next to her. I guess we wouldn’t make it to dinner, but I still wanted tonight to be special. After all, it was our anniversary.
Road Trip
“He who complains about the way the ball bounces is likely the one who dropped it.”
“We have to go back.”
“Not yet. We’ve only traveled for two days. You got the entire week off of work for this.”