Tell Me

Tell Me

     He feels her lips press against his ear.

     “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.” He heard her say.

     Feeling cold, he pulls the covers over his shoulders.

     “It happened again today.” He said softly.

     “Tell me.” She breathed.

     “I closed my eyes and watched it happen again. It keeps happening every day. I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s starting to drive me mad.”

     “How often do you watch it happen?”

     “Every time I close my eyes for more than 5 seconds. My mind…”

     “Go on.” She whispered. “Tell me.”

     “My mind, puts that memory on loop. I feel it all over again. The scars in my mind spread open and spill blood. Fresh wounds have salt shoved in them every time this happens. I can’t control these thoughts.” He said.

     “Yes, you can. You have to focus on other thoughts. Let those take over and let go of that day.” She encouraged.

     Taking a deep breath, he watches his exhaled breath float across the sheets.

     “I must have left the window open.” He said to himself.

     “You are not telling me everything. Tell me.” She said softly.

     “I told you everything before. It never changes.”

     “Tell me. Don’t leave anything out this time and I promise things will be better after tonight.”

     “How can things be better? They can’t be changed.”

     “Trust me. Go on.”

     “I see the truck off in the distance, and I think he is coming on my side of the road but I get distracted by the driver behind me. I look in my rearview mirror for 5 seconds and…”

     “You’re doing good, baby. Keep going.” She whispered in his ear.

     “Do you remember when we first got Charlie?” He asked.

     “Yes, I do.”

     “He was so little and had such a big belly. I would wake up in the middle of the night and find that he shit all over the kitchen floor. It would take me an hour to clean it up and he would beg and cry for more food and wouldn’t let me leave until I petted him to sleep.” He said shivering.

     “He grew into a big dog under your care. You brought that dog back to life. Now, continue.” She told him.

     “I know you never liked the name Charlie, but it fit him perfectly…”

     “Tell me.” She said.

     “You remember when we got the house? You were so happy to get out of that shitty apartment. You couldn’t help but skip all day. You walked in every room and told me in detail all the things you wanted done. The kitchen you let me decide, but that was it. The living room you wanted tan walls with black leather sofas. The bathroom you wanted an ocean theme. You had your painting section of the garage already taped off so I wouldn’t step on your toes. The study was fun building. We spent most of our time in there the first few weeks.”

     “Those are wonderful memories. Now, tell me.” She begged.

     “I look back and see that the truck is already riding the yellow lines…”

     “Take a breath, and tell me.”

     He took in the cold air and let it out, watching it float away.

     “Our first fight was over that study. You didn’t want any drinking done in there. Remember? You didn’t want anything to get on the books. How would anything get on the books when the table is nowhere near them?” He said.

     “Tell me.”

     “We would cook together all the time. When you cooked, nothing ever tasted the same twice because you did your cooking by eye-balling everything. It was always good though.”

     “Tell me.”

     “The truck was getting closer to my lane and I looked into the wide eyes of the driver…”

     “…” She waited.

     “My memory of it isn’t there anymore. I don’t remember anymore of it.” He said firmly.

     “You do remember; and you need to tell me.” She whispered softly.

     Grabbing his covers, he pulls them to his face.

     “You started to stay more in the study and I would go off to the den to write. I’m not sure how or why that started, but it became the norm.”

     “Tell me.”

     “One night you came in the den and gave me a big hug and a long kiss and told me you loved me. You seemed scared like you saw a ghost. I never felt you squeeze me so tightly before or since…”

    “Tell me.”

     “His eyes were wide and wild. He had a grin from ear to ear. I heard screeching of brakes…”

     “Go on.”

     “Ever since that day, we were never in different rooms. You always wanted me touching you, or to have me in your sight. You would look up and smile at me every time.”

     “Tell me.” She whispered.

     “The truck with the wild man in it hit my car going 50 mph. My car flipped over 5 times and landed back on the wheels…”

     “What did you do after the car came to a stop?” She said softly.

     “Charlie got sick and we had to take him to the vet. Remember? He had mucus in his eyes and had troubles breathing. We both took the day off of work to take him to the vet. We were so worried he was going to die on the way there.”

     “Tell me.”

     “When the car came to a stop, I opened my door. I fell out of the car and landed on my broken arm. Screaming in pain, I see…”

     “Tell me.”

     “I see Charlie lying motionless in the street. He got thrown from the vehicle. I ran to him but he wasn’t breathing…”

     “What else?”

     “I looked past Charlie and noticed you lying dead under the truck. You fell out of the car and the truck ran over you. There was nothing I could do. I blacked out and that’s all I remember.”

     “Tell me, baby.” She begged.

     He rolls over, grabs the pillow and pulls it close to his chest.

     “Goodnight, baby. I love you.”

The End

    

     

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     Well, you opened the file. I can never find the right name for these files to keep people at bay. Each person who reads this will play a part in the end of the world. As you know it, at least. The world will change so drastically in the next few years. I of course can’t tell you when exactly.

     There are 4 of us that have to send these files out to help protect the world from this change. The less people read these files, the less odds it will happen. This message is just for you. I hide these files in random blogs hoping no one will open it, but they always seem to get to it. The file is there, but once you open it, I send these words to you and tell you what I think will sway your role.

     As for “us,” there are 4. We are in charge of preventing this disaster from happening. They choose us at birth. Our powers are easier to see when we are babies. There can only be 4 at a time. We are connected and if one of us dies, we all die and they have to wait to see when the next 4 are born and that can take decades. They don’t have that much time left, so they keep us hid and safe. We send and plant and hide files wherever we can to keep people from reading them. The ones we do let people read ends up making them suicidal and they kill themselves before they can be a problem; but you are different. You can’t be swayed. Although, I’m going to try.

     Stay looking at this screen for the next 20 years. Ha, only if it could be that easy. You will just have to live your life knowing that you can’t change anything. The moment you think you see something fishy and try to change it, something bad will happen to you. You can’t change other people’s paths, which is for them to fuck up. Your hobbies aren’t just hobbies. You may think they are, but they will play a big part in this. You can’t stop your hobby though. You would go insane if you did.

     You know, I been doing this for 300 years? Not one change has happened yet but they are sure it will. The human race is a funny thing. Yes, I am human, but evolved. I can see into the past and a little ways into the future. That depends on who I can connect with in the past. With you reading these words I can see 100 years in the future and I see hope. I never noticed any change in the outcome until you opened this file. Whatever you do, keep on your path and live life for you and enjoy your days, even on days you don’t feel like it.

     That’s it! Painless! For the most part. Pain is something we all will feel in our life at some point. It’s what we do after the pain stops that counts. You are just a ghost to me, but you made all the difference.

Signal Lost…

Four Seconds

Four Seconds

     I can’t fucking do this. I guess since I’m here, I can. I might as well, nothing better is waiting for me beyond this bridge. They say this bridge is the second –most used suicide spot after Nanjing Yangtze River Bridge. Maybe I should go there, but I’m used to being second. No one ever put me first in my life; not even myself. Going to be a cold death in this water. The fall of 245 feet will take me around four seconds to hit the water. If the impact doesn’t kill me, the cold water will. I can see The Rock from here. The fog is thick tonight, so I’m sure no one will notice me on here. Fuck it. Let’s do this thing.

ONE

     Letting go wasn’t hard. I just jumped off this fucking bridge. I’m happy it’s going to be over soon. Things been fucked for me since the beginning. When I was a child, I had to watch my best friend die after he got hit by a car. I was screaming for help while I was looking into his eyes. They just went blank. I was never the same after that. I watched a buddy of mine shoot himself in the neck while we were at a party. No one knows why he did it. Good wife, two kids and loving family. He just pulled his gun out in front of all of us and did it. Blood pouring out of his neck and he didn’t even have an expression of pain on his face; he just looked at me and I watched his eyes go blank too.

     I’m really starting to pick up speed. This air is so cold on my face. I better die on impact, because freezing to death is going to suck.

     My co-worker lost his arms in a bad onsite accident. I used to go to his house every night after work to have some beers with him. I would (fuck this is cold) put a straw in his beer so he could drink without help. He didn’t want anybody touching him or helping him in any way. He got pretty good at doing shit with his feet. Even brushed his own teeth. Everybody has their breaking limit, like I am now. His was coming soon and I could tell. He would sometimes stare blankly at the wall while I was talking to him. I had to yell, “Jim!” to get his attention. “Sorry, man. Got stuck in an old memory.” He would always say. I could see his eyes going blank and I knew it was close. I went over there one day after work and found him face down in a tub full of water. Maybe that’s how I will be found.

     I was driving down the very road my best friend died when I was little and struck a child with my SUV. I jumped out my SUV to check him out and his chest was caved in (just like my friend) and I had to watch him die. How do things work out? I killed a kid in the same way it affected me so long ago in the same spot. Life has been funny with me, and not in a funny way.

     I had to watch my own child die too.

TWO

     The gambling started early. Even when I was a kid. The dares were bets for me. And I would always get the payout.

     “Bet you can’t eat this worm!” Tommy (dead childhood friend) said.

     “How much?” I’d always ask.

     “5 dol---“ and before he could even finish, I’d have that worm already chewed up with my hand out for a five spot. Bets from jumping off of houses, to eating insects to eating road kill, I didn’t care. I was getting my money. When I was a teen I would play card games at the parties, place bets and always walk away with most of the money. We would get Texas Holdem games going on the weekends and I would always be the last player taking the pot. Not much of Blackjack guy. I would get into gambling on games later with bookies and getting money off of Loan Sharks for Five Points a week. I started losing money left and right and found myself in a Two Hundred Grand debt. They would look for me and find me everywhere I went and would fuck me up until I gave them some money. “One big bet is all I need!” I would tell them. They were going to kill me if I didn’t have Twenty Five perfect of the money in a week and that wasn’t going to happen.

     So, that’s part of the reason I’m falling at Seventy Five miles per hour now… Fuck, it’s cold.

THREE

     Drugs. There is always drugs in these kind of situations. How else would I of got into so much debt. Coke is not cheap and crack is whack. Thanks, Whitney. Started with simple smoking cigarettes as a kid to get a cheap thrill. Pot as a teen to fit in. Coke to wake me up so I could do more gambling and be sharper. Can’t place well thought bets when you’re drunk, so some coke would lift me right up and pick the teams (I thought) that would win. Win, win, win, is all I did for the longest time. I was untouchable until I wasn’t. I started to lose and make shitty bets and lose anything I tried to do to get money. Cards, games, fucking poker cups in the break room at work. I couldn’t catch a fucking break! Yea, I had to work to keep the IRS off my ass. Had to have a cover for the money I had. Now I have no money for the shit I need and detox is a mother fucker. I may be a gambling drug addict, but I’m not going to take shit from honest working people. Gambling is different. I earn that money with skill.

FOUR

     The water is getting close and my eyes are starting to water from the cold air.

     OCD. I couldn’t snort any coke with any kind of circulated bills. Do you know what kind of shit is on those bills? There is actual shit on those bills. People will wipe their ass without washing their hands, pull out the bills and pay for their meals. And you want me to do a bump with that? Not happening. I go to the bank and get brand new Five Dollar bills. An homage to my childhood buddy Tommy.

     I can’t even take a shit without scrubbing the toilet seat for an hour. Try that if you REALLY have to go. It is rough. When I’m done, I have to spend another hour cleaning it, then wash my hands with bleach for fifteen minutes.

      I would have to shut the door four times before I could close it, then (fuck that water is black) I would have to shut it three times when I’d open it.

     The bathroom floors I would have to scrub three times a week with a tooth brush.

     Every single plate, cup and bowl I owned, I would have to wash every night before bed.

     Sleep? Shit, I couldn’t get sleep thinking of all the crazy shit crawling on me in my bed. I would go lay down in the living room on the couch and watch those knife shows at night. I love knives. Nothing like a good knife to start a conversation in the kitchen.

     Should I land on my head or back? If I go on my head, I may cut through the water and live; but if I land on my back or stomach, it’ll be like landing on the street. I think I will land on my back.

     And yes, there is a girl. There is always a girl. But she has nothing to do with this. She was doing everything she could to try to help me with my drug/gambling/OCD problems. She brought out the best of me and that’s part of the reason I’m doing this. I can’t keep letting her down. She was all I ever looked for in a woman. She was all in and I was too fucked up to have anything with. I will never change. These aren’t little issues to fix. These are life long habits drilled into me. I have a few straight laced friends that tried to help too. I guess I could have worked out some kind of payment plan with those assholes. I guess I could have got some help with my gambling issues. I guess I could have worked on my OCD impulses.

     The water is right here. I been waiting for this moment for so long. I dreamed about doing it and couldn’t wait for the perfect timing.

     I wish I didn’t jump.

The End

    

Skeleton Tree

Skeleton Tree

     Why didn’t we cut down that old dead tree, you ask? Well, let me tell you.

*

     It all started with my Great Grandfather Ellsworth Evans back in 1990 when I was 10. He was 110 years old when he died of a heart attack in his sleep. Mom told me he never felt a thing, but when I found him in the morning, he had a horrible expression on his face. I will never forget those eyes. They still haunt me and speak to me at night, even now. He been sick for a long time. Mom was so sick of looking after him all the time. She complained on never getting sleep and was tired of, “Cleaning his dirty ass.” When he passed, she couldn’t have a bigger smile on her face. Even at the wake, she would walk around with a grin of that cat from that one story. It was unsettling to say the least. I know now why she had that big grin, but I didn’t at that time. That tree died that very night great grandpa E did. But it was part of him and I didn’t want to see that tree cut down and my mom wouldn’t go anywhere near it… She feared that tree.

*

     Ellsworth was born 1880. He lived a very protected and sheltered life. When he was ten, Ellsworth was given a shovel and a tree sapling to plant for fun. It took E a few days to dig the hole and plant his pride and joy. He enjoyed every second of pain he felt to plant this life he can look after for the rest of his. This tree was his control. The only control he had at this point in his life. He spent his life quiet and proper so his mother wouldn’t punish him. His father was loving and wanted to build him up, but she thought that would make him weak. His whole life he tried to live up to her image of him, but he couldn’t please her. Ever. She died shortly after his father did. His father died in his sleep from a heart attack and his mother by suicide.

     Ellsworth married the love of his life and only had one daughter. He raised her and took care of this home as well as he could. There wasn’t a lot around, but enough to maintain happiness. Life was good. Life was good for a long time for them, until his wife died of tuberculosis in 1910. His daughter didn’t understand and grew up bitter at E. She died while giving birth to twins in 1945, a son and a daughter (my mom). Ellsworth tried his best to take care of his grand kids but they had the same bitterness towards him their mom had. My uncle died in a crash racing to the hospital for E’s first heart attack. My mom never looked at him the same again and blamed E for his death. But Ellsworth loved her with all his heart. He tried to understand and be what she needed him to be, but she wasn’t having it.

     My mom had me when she was 35 in 1980. Great Grandpa Ellsworth LOVED me so much. I loved him back. I seemed to be the only girl in the family’s history to. He would sing to me while we rocked in his chair. He would sit at the little table with me and play tea party while wearing a nail polish (which I painted) on his fingers. I always fell asleep in his room while we watched TV and ate snacks. Of course my mom would come get me out the room without waking me, because I would cry and hold on to the sheet and doorway. I wanted to spend every minute with E. I knew his time was almost out, but his spirit and heart were too strong to give into time. He was all I had. My dad never came back the night I was born. He couldn’t stand being around mom. Great grandpa Ellsworth was happy to fill in the role. He started to get sick when I was five. Bad cough and hips wouldn’t support him anymore. My mom had to stay home more and do business from the house. She would lose clients because she would have to tend to him. He would be yelling in pain in the back room and asking for water. By this time he couldn’t have that much water because it wasn’t good for his lungs. She would bitch and bitch about cleaning after him and giving him a bath. She wouldn’t feed him or give him water to minimize his messes. I would spend every day after school talking and playing with E. I would go outside and play on the tree he planted when he was a little boy, he would watch me from the window with a big smile on his face. He would tell me how much I reminded him of his wife. How pretty I was and how my smiled touched a part of his soul only she visited. He made me feel special. I was a little girl, but I knew how important he was to me. People like him don’t come around too often and I was happy and very proud to have him as my great grandfather. My mom thought otherwise of him. Called him weak and an asshole behind his back.

     When I was 9, he had chest pains when we were playing go fish and he couldn’t talk. He just sat there with closed eyes and both hands on his chest. I ran and screamed for mom to do something.

     “Mom! Great grandpa E is hurt!” I screamed.

     “He is always hurt, Bella. He’s fucking 109 years old. Maybe he’ll go tonight.” Mom said bitterly.

     “Stop that! Do something!” I begged and begged. She just sat there going through her work papers, so I ran and called 911. Mother was not happy to see the ambulance and fire trucks outside.

     “What the fuck are these people doing here?! BELLA!! What did you do, you little shit!” Mom yelled at me from the kitchen.

     They took E to the hospital and he stayed there for a few weeks. When he came back home, mom was pissed. She wanted him to die in that hospital, and now she had medical bills piling up. She never spoke to him again. She would just clean him and wash him and leave him be. I made sure he ate and got the water he needed. By this time, it was okay for him to have water and non-sweetened tea, but sometimes, I would give him the sweet stuff that he likes. He would still smile and laugh with me. Tell me how he met his wife. He loved talking about her. She died and he knew he wouldn’t find anyone as special as her, so he didn’t look. He stayed in love with her until the day he died. He used to fish at the lake every day after work. He said he rarely caught anything, but enjoyed the sun kissing his skin. One day while he was fishing from the dock he noticed a pretty blonde girl walking the path by the lake. She would steal glances at him and smile. He would return smiles as often as she gave them. He looked back to see if she was still around and fell into the lake. He wasn’t the strongest swimmer, so he was thrashing around, reaching for the dock, when a soft, little hand grabbed his and guided his hand to the wood. Pulling as hard as she could, he got back onto the dock.

     “Why fish from the dock if you can’t swim, mister?”  Anna said smiling.

     “I know how to swim, Miss. I was enjoying the water” He said laughing.

     They talked for the rest of the evening and met at the lake every day for a week. She was the first to take a kiss and they were in love ever since.

     I woke up and the house felt empty. I ran into his room and they had E on a stretcher, taking him outside. With tears filling my eyes I asked, “What happened?”

     “He died in his sleep. His heart wasn’t strong enough.” Mom said.

     “Yes, it was! He has the strongest of hearts, mom!” I yelled.

     “You stop that now! He is gone and there is nothing anybody can do. Now we can move on and live a normal fucking life.”

     I ran outside just out of time to tell him goodbye. The ambulance was already down the road. I wasn’t fast enough to catch up. By the time I got back to the yard, Ellsworth’s tree started to lose its leaves. By that night it was dead like it’s been dead for years. My mom would never go by that tree ever since. For ten years, she would cut the grass and leave the grass by the tree alone. I would have to go do it.

     I lived missing him and his lightness he had about him, and his endless love as well. I found a man that almost matches the love Great Grandpa E had. I’m lucky to have him, and we were helping mom out by this point. We were in the kitchen when my mom blurted out.

      “One of these days, I’ll have the money to pay someone to cut that fucking tree down. It gives me the creeps.” Mom said to me one day while looking at it through the kitchen window.

     “We are not cutting down Ellsworth’s tree. He planted that when he was 10. Did you know that, or don’t you care to?” I asked.

     “I don’t care if the pope planted that Skeleton Tree, I want it gone, and soon. I have nightmares about that tree. Things I can’t even say out loud. For ten years I avoided that tree and it’s me or it.”

     Spring of 2010 I went outside to get the trash cans from the street and noticed my mom swinging from the very top of the tree with both her wrists cut. Blood was dripping down onto the base of the tree and it was starting to bloom.

     No one knows how she got up there, hung herself and cut her own wrists. Never got solved either. They just marked it up as suicide. That year the Skeleton Tree bloomed for the first time since 1990 but never bloomed again. I think Ellsworth finally moved on.

     I could never tell my family this, but, I had nightmares since E died that my mom smothered him in his sleep with a pillow. That’s why he had horror on his face when I found him. His own daughter killed him. He lived for love and died by love. I did get to say bye to him the last day the tree was in bloom. I was sitting under it thinking of him and I heard him whisper, “Goodbye, my love.” In my ear. I told him bye and that I loved him, as well and cried under the tree for some time.

     So we leave this house to you, new owner. And I hope you keep that Skeleton Tree where it belongs. It’s just a ghost of a tree planted by a lovely man. I would like to come back and visit it, since it has been such a big part of my life. See you soon.

Sincerely,

Bella Evans