Through the Windshield Glass (10 page)

I stepped
across the hall, away from the empty wall where the ‘Misery’ door had once been
situated. I reached my hand out and closed it around the doorknob of the door
labeled ’Joy’. It didn’t give way.

Angrily, I
kicked out at the wall, I expected pain, but since I barely even existed, there
was nothing. It gave me an idea. I walked calmly to one end of the hall, and
stared at the other end. I let out a barbarian yell and ran headlong for the
other wall. I flew down the hall and crashed into the other end. I didn't even
make a tiny dent in the wall. I became even angrier.

I started
punching, kicking, slapping and screaming like a banshee at the wall, letting
out all my anger on the tauntingly perfect paint. Why was I here? I thought
death was supposed to be the reward for living! What had I done to deserve to
be stuck in such a Hellish place? I screamed again, not just one frustrated scream,
but I screamed until I got bored.

I sprawled out
on the floor and threw a temper tantrum. I banged my fists, yanked on my hair
and cursed everything I could think of. I professed hatred to the man who was
driving the car that killed me, hatred for Maria killing herself, hatred at the
paramedics who failed to save my life, and mostly hatred for James. I hated him
so much at that moment I could barely comprehend my own feelings. How could he
not be there to help me when I needed him most?

Finally I calmed
down, I felt myself returning to the reclusive state I stayed in for the year
after my death. The corner I had sat in was looking more and more inviting,
even comfortable. I crawled to the corner drew my knees up to my chest and
stared blankly at the night end of the hall until the room was completely dark.
And I continued to stare, I didn’t blink, I didn’t even move, I just sat and
tried not to think.

When light
filtered back into the room I realized I was no longer dressed in anything I
recognized from my burial or the doors.

Now, I was
wearing something that reflected everything I had been through since death. A
kind of quilt of clothing. I was no longer constrained by the skirt and blouse
I’d been entombed in. Instead, I was wearing jeans, a soft tee shirt and my
favorite black canvas sneakers. I was also wearing an old air force jacket,
embroidered on the left side in red cursive was Daman's name. Also emblazoned
there was a tiny broken heart. I still wore the wedding ring which I assumed represented
the ‘Love’ door, and the jacket represented my loss. But where was my token for
‘Misery’? I searched my clothing and pockets for anything that stood out to me,
but there was nothing.

Then, I felt
something cold on the exposed skin of my neck; my hand flew up to my throat and
caught hold of the necklace there. I reached behind me and unclasped the chain
gasping when I saw the pendant.

A shaking hand
held back the sob that scratched at my neck, the pendant was made of cursive
gold letters spelling out the name Jane.

I would have
had a girl. A girl I could have dressed up, had tea parties with, and given
advice to. And I had lost her, for no reason. She was lost to save my life when
　
I had no life to save.

I wiped tears
from my face and put the necklace back on. The pendant was now warm against my
skin and felt like it belonged there, I knew I wouldn't be taking it off any
time soon.

I closed my
eyes and walked to my corner and slid down the wall, my legs protruding in
front of me and going pigeon toed. My right hand went subconsciously to the
pendant around my neck. I sat there for who knows how long, staring at the
opposite end of the hall and stroking my necklace. I was incredibly bored, but
there was nothing to do, other than trying to figure out how to open another
door.

The only
problem is, in life, I hated puzzles. I couldn't even do a 4x4 Rubix cube, how
was I supposed to figure this out when I didn't even have the help of Google?

In spite of
myself, I started idly banging the back of my head against the wall.

How?...bang...Where's
James?...bang...Is someone else going to come see me?...bang...Why won't this
hurt?...bang...it would be so much more satisfying if this would hurt...bang,
bang, bang, bang, BANG! My head rebounded off the wall and I was surprised to
find myself bent in half with my head in my lap.

“James!” I
screamed into my lap, “I’m done, come open a door! I can’t do this by myself!”

The silence
pressed in on me, hugging me like a heavy coat. It was suffocating me with its
immediateness. The quiet felt louder than any sound I'd ever heard. It settled
into my ears, making them ache as though I'd been underwater for too long. I
realized I was afraid, afraid of the unknown. I was afraid to die for that
reason, because I didn’t know what was waiting for me. Heaven or Hell?
Reincarnation? Would we just disappear? I hated not knowing. It hurt my head
trying to imagine it, and trying to imagine that life would continue forever
when I had been taught since I could remember that everything ends. Everything
ends. I found some solace in that. I thought I would be okay if when I died
there was nothing and I just ceased to exist. The way I saw it, I wouldn’t know
that I was no longer a being; I would just be gone, simple as that. No boredom,
no stress of wondering if I had been good enough to deserve Heaven, just gone.

Now I could see
that I was a fool for thinking that. Of course there was something after death!
There was no resting in peace, obviously whoever thought that was an
appropriate epitaph had not been haunted by anyone or they would have known
better than to inscribe that on a headstone.

To keep my mind
busy I started making up poetry in my head. I'd never been much of a poet, but
after a while I came up with one I think I would have been proud of in life. It
was a
　
little depressing but
so was my situation.

I tried to
imagine what it would feel like to be with Daman again. He made me feel safe
and wanted, besides being a companion in a solitary world.

“Come back,” I
pleaded with my head still down, “please come back.”

“I could never
leave you,” Daman’s voice said. I looked up, I couldn't believe my eyes and it
took a few moments before my legs reacted to what my brain was telling them to
do.

Her feet
move fast

Bridging
oceans

Her true
love lost

Now has her
hand.

Daman pulled me
into his arms and kissed me, not lightly as he had done earlier, but a deep,
lasting kiss on the mouth. It was surprising, and at first I wanted to pull
away, but I couldn't. I had never gotten what the hype about kissing was, but
since I'd never been kissed like that there was no way for me to know. I'd also
never known exactly the danger that could be behind a simple kiss. The longer
Daman held me there the more I wanted. I pulled him in and my instincts took
control. My fingers went up into the dark curls of Daman's hair; I opened my
eyes just for a moment to look at Daman. What I saw frightened me more than I
thought was possible.

The blue in
Daman's eyes had been overtaken by the blackness of his pupils, only a tiny
ring of iris remained. The look was familiar and all at once I realized why. It
was hunger, the kind of hunger you see in a predator before it strikes its
prey, exactly as Maria’s eyes had looked before she pulled the trigger. I
realized it had not been Maria at all holding the gun.

Terror raced
through my body and forced me to draw away from Daman. My ring snagged, pulling
a snake like coil of Daman's hair with it.

"What are
you doing?" Daman asked harshly. He took a step toward me, clawed for my
hand and tried to pull me into him again.

My rational
mind took hold and I pushed myself away again. This time Daman's rough grip
felt like a vice on my wrist and when he slammed my back against the wall I
actually felt dizzying pain. My head had collided raucously with the wall
causing stars to dance into my vision.

Daman leaned
his face in close. His breath smelled like decay, the smell condensed into a
moist film on my face.

"Don't you
dare leave me," Daman snarled, "I love you, remember?"

My head still
hurt too much for me to think clearly, all I could manage was a whimper; I
couldn't even pull my eyes away from Daman's. His eyes had gone completely
black by now, not even a pinprick of white remained.

The thought
occurred to me that I had gone through a door without realizing it. In vain, I
attempted to look around the hallway to see if my suspicions were correct. All
the doors were still there, which meant that what Daman was doing was real. He
was really pinning me against the wall, really breathing his stinking breath on
my face, and really hurting me.

"Daman,
let go of me," I pleaded. My voice came out small and insignificant in the
vast hall that seemed to be expanding. My head was swimming from the effort it
took to look around and I wanted to vomit from the smell coming from Daman. By
now I'd realized the odor wasn't just coming from his mouth, but was actually
emanating from his person.

For a moment
something changed in Daman, his eyes flickered back to normal and his grip on
my wrists lessened. I took the opportunity to dart out under his arm and race
to the other end of the hall. Something was wrong though, there was only one
door left, and it was at the other end of the hall and Daman was already
standing in front of it.

Chapter Sixteen

"Come on,
Alice," Daman taunted, "I got rid of all the doors for you. All you
have to do is go through this one and you'll never have to come back here
again."

I just stood
there shaking, the ring on my left hand felt as heavy as a boulder. I tried to
take it off, but it wouldn't budge. Daman noticed what I was doing and laughed
maliciously. He lifted his left hand, showing the ring I'd given him,
"Yours doesn't come off until mine does. Now get over here."

I tried to
fight the urge to walk to him, but my legs would no longer obey. Daman had some
kind of control over me that I couldn't explain, and even though I was
terrified of him, even though I didn't want to be near him, I still
inexplicably loved him.

I had closed
the gap between Daman and I before I knew what I was doing. His eyes made me
think of a rat's and I tried to push Daman away from me, but he caught both my
wrists and yanked me closer to him. I attempted to scream but Daman closed his
mouth over mine, breathing his foul breath into my lungs. My body screamed for
release, my lungs burned as though acid had been poured into them, and slowly
my vision was darkening. Somehow Daman was killing me again.

As he felt me
weaken, Daman relaxed his grip on my wrists and I fell to the floor at his
feet. Daman crouched down and lifted my face until my dimming eyes met his.

"Here I
was thinking no one could be so naive as to be hoodwinked by my deception, but
then I found you. It was so easy to get inside your head and make you think you
knew me. I never went to the sixth grade, Alice, I'm not a hero, I am a
conqueror. My experiment with you has proven what I already suspected to be
true; I have truly mastered death!"

I couldn't
move, Daman took my left hand in his and looked at it for a moment before using
a black, sharpened nail to carve a circle into my palm. I gasped in pain, but
it was only temporary, I didn't bleed but was left with what appeared to be a
tattoo.

"When it
is time, this will help me find you my queen," Daman whispered.

He stroked my
cheek before standing and turning to the door. In a flash, Daman was gone; I
just managed to stick out my hand in time to keep the door from closing behind
him. My fingers crunched painfully, it was the last straw for my weakened body.
My eyelids fell closed and I slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

I awoke to my
lungs burning again, coughs racked my body and I turned over on my side to
retch. I was appalled to see black sludge coming from my mouth. It was white
hot on my tongue and throat, and I began to cry as well as vomit. When I had
finished I rolled over onto my back and tried to breathe through my ravaged
throat.

My eyes were
still too dim to take in much of what was around me, but I seemed to be in a
hospital. The fingers on my right hand were bandaged and I was lying on a
comfortable bed. Something touched my arm; frightening me to the point I sat
straight upright which began the coughing fits all over again. Thankfully, I
was able to prevent the acid like vomit from coming up again.

"Don't
keep it down," a woman's voice said from next to me, "that's demon
poison. You want that out of your system as soon as possible."

I turned to see
who had spoken.  I could just make out a tall, curvy Irish-looking woman. Her
hair was red, thick, and sensationally curly, not to mention, she was
beautiful. Every enviable feature in the world seemed to have found a home on
this woman's face. She had a slight, Irish accent that naturally made her voice
sound warm.

"My name
is Hannah, what is yours?"

"Alice,"
I rasped, she hadn't offered her last name I wasn't going to offer mine.

"Alice,"
Hannah repeated, "who gave you that name?"

"My
parents," I replied. Who else would have named me?

Hannah raised
her eyebrows at my tone, I guess my answer had been a little short and edgy.

"Sorry,"
I mumbled. My eyes were clearing up and I could see I wasn't in a hospital at
all, just a very clean room. A warm yellow and white quilt lay on top of me; I
noticed Daman's jacket was gone and that my pants had been traded for some kind
of loose fitting pants like I would have worn to bed.