The descent down the stairs of Dreamwood Terrace felt like an eternity. Each step lowering me more and more towards where that women lay. The closer I got the more strongly I could feel her presence. The chill began to envelope me. She was laying out on the pavement underneath apt no 43.
She looked dead. Maybe she was dead. Maybe she has always been dead. It would create a nice little sense of irony.
“Need a hand?” I watch my own hand extend to reach her as if from afar. As if I’m no longer the one controlling my body. She grabs my hand but I don’t feel anything. My body has gone completely numb.
“Why help me? You’re the one that put me here in the first place.”
“Self-defense sister. The law views it as a legitimate excuse so why shouldn’t God?”
She stares at me for a couple of seconds then before she leaves the question that has taken every ounce of strength I have to not ask.
“Hey. What’s your deal? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
She stares at me in disbelief.
“What have I done to offend you to such a great degree?”
Again she stares. Again she says nothing.
“Look. I just want to go home and you coming in here and making me push you out a window is not good for my image.”
“Your image? Since when do you care about your image? You want to know why I keep bugging you? Because you insist on messing up the Plan. You insist on trying to undermine my authority. Once you stop ending lives before their time then I’ll leave you alone.”
“Ending lives?” I race through my memory. Trying to think of anything she could mean. “What do you mean ‘ending live’?”
“Are you really so dense? I mean you killing people that aren’t supposed to die.”
“Are you serious? That’s what this is about? I haven’t killed anyone. Interfering with you pointless little plan is not why I came here. Call me Ripley cause believe it or not, not everything I do is because of you. I don’t wake up and think ‘Oh. How am I gonna piss off Catherine today?’ I have my own life and I’m just trying to live it. So please. Tell me what you mean by ‘Ending Lives.’ Cause if there are actually people dying outside of your Plan well then, sister, you’ve got a much bigger problem to worry about than me.”
It’s a beautiful day/Sky falls it feels like/It’s a beautiful day/Don’t let it…
Damn. That was a nice alarm clock.
Getting out of bed is always the hardest after hearing the monotonous chord progression of “Beautiful Day” that U2 cursed the world with.
I think I had a dream last night and I think it meant something. But it might have been a memory. It was all just so vivid and real.
I go over to the diner next door to get some eggs. I see a little Asian man sitting alone at a booth. There wasn’t anything special about him but for some reason I was drawn to him.
“Mind if I sit here?”
The man motioned to seat as if to say “Not at all.”
“So,” the man looked tired. Worn out. “What’s your story?”
The man looked up at me. Shocked I would ask such an intrusive question. “A long one.”
“Isn’t everyone’s?” I waited for more of a response. Any sign that he was going to say anything. “Alright fine. Keep your secrets.”
“My name is Yesu.”
“Yesu huh? That’s an interesting name. I’m Clive. Nice to meet you Yesu.”
“So what is your story?”
“My story? I don’t really have a story. At least not one that’s worth telling. I’ve made a lot of mistakes but I’m trying to fix them now. My whole life I’ve been the bad guy and I’m tired of it.”
“You do not seem too bad to me.”
“Really? Well thanks. Now if only I could get God to see me the way you do.”
“You have more than you think.”