Although I wouldn’t say I liked all their songs, Opeth was one of my favorite metal bands. There was something about their music that resonated with me. ‘Harlequin Forest’ was my favorite song, and I always sang along to the first verse.
They were coming to play at Terminal 5 as part of their twentieth-anniversary tour, and they were going to play the entirety of Blackwater Park—my favorite album, so I bought a ticket as soon as they went on sale.
I mostly went to concerts by myself because I didn’t know anyone that shared the same musical interests as me, but I never let that muddy the feeling of seeing my favorite bands perform live.
There was a sizeable crowd at Terminal 5 that night, but it wasn’t claustrophobia-inducing. I found a spot about three rows of people from the stage and anxiously waited. Even though the concert hadn’t started yet, the air was thick with the smell of Mary Jane, and I knew that I was going to be in for a crazy night.
The lights dimmed, and smoke started to fill the stage. All conversations ceased as if a librarian had hushed the crowd. The members of Opeth strode onto the stage, and as soon as the first guitar string was plucked, the crowd erupted.
People sang along, headbanging in place, but others became too overzealous, forming a mosh pit where I was standing. I did not like them, so I started backing out of it. I bumped into this guy, causing a chain reaction, and he bumped into a woman, and she fell. The guy was unfazed and continued to swing his hands in the air, so I helped her up.
“Sorry about that,” I said, loud enough for her to hear me over the music. “I hate being in these things and was just trying to get out before it got out of hand.”
“I can’t stand mosh pits, either. They’re just an excuse for people to shove each other around.”
“Exactly. Shit! Sorry, I should have asked first, but are you okay? It looked like you took quite the fall.”
“Yeah, I think I’m okay. Thank you for helping me up.”
“Well, I was partly responsible, but you’re welcome. My name is Jeremy,” I said while extending my hand. After a moment, she took it.
Her hand was soft, yet she had a firm grip. I don’t know if it was me or my nerves, but her hand gave off this eerie feeling.
“My name is Nicavero,” she said, but the sound of people shouting at each other eclipsed her voice.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“Sorry.” She smiled. “My name is Veronica.”
Veronica and I talked for a little more, rotating glances between us and the stage until Opeth started to play “Reverie, Harlequin Forest,” and we sang along.
“Into the trees
Past meadow grounds
And further away from my home
Baying behind me
I hear the hounds
Flock’s chasing me to find me alone.”
I’ve always gotten emotional at concerts and tonight was no different. I couldn’t prevent the tears from welling up, and as I went to wipe them away, one rolled down my cheek. I glanced at Veronica through the corner of my eye, hoping that she only saw doves crying, but she was dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
We talked outside some more after the concert, but it was beginning to get late, so Veronica hailed a cab and disappeared into a sea of yellow and red.
It was still comfortable outside despite the hour, and I decided to walk the 20 or so blocks home.
Thoughts of Veronica began to invade my mind. Her captivating eyes. The way she smiled and laughed. The way our conversation flowed so easily. There was just something about her that gave me butterflies in my stomach. But that feeling was replaced with regret when I realized that I had never asked for her number.
What an idiot, I thought to myself. I was always afraid of misreading the situation, so I struggled to know when the right time to exchange numbers was. But this time, it felt like Veronica and I had a genuine connection, and I squandered that opportunity. As I reached my apartment door, I told myself there was no point in dwelling on it.
I took a shower, letting the hot water wash away the stench of the concert, and got into bed. Before I allowed sleep to overcome me, I thought, maybe I’ll be lucky enough to see her at another concert.
My alarm went off at 7 AM the following morning annnnnd I hit the snooze button. One of the benefits of working for yourself is that you can snooze your alarm as many times as you like. I was lying there, playing on my phone, when the message notification popped up. I tapped on it and saw it was from an unknown number.
V: Hey, good morning.
V: I know I’m supposed to wait three days
V: But I just wanted to say that I enjoyed our conversation last night
V: And to thank you again for helping me up (even though you caused it 😊).
Maybe I’m still dreaming. I pinched my cheek to confirm that I was awake.
J: Um, sorry, but who is this?
My mind went to who I wanted it to be, but we hadn’t exchanged numbers…right?
V: Oh, I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number.
V: I was trying to reach Jeremy.
V: Sorry to have woken you.
Veronica!
J: Veronica?
I stared at my phone with bated breath, waiting for confirmation.
V: Yes
V: Jeremy?
It was her.
J: Yes
J: Hi
J: Good morning
J: Sorry
J: I didn’t think we’d exchanged numbers
J: I guess we did and I forgot
She laughed. I mean, she wrote “lol,” but I don’t really know if she laughed or not.
I was happy that she texted me, but not remembering whether I gave her my phone number bothered me a little.
We texted uninterrupted for about fifteen more minutes before saying that we needed to start the day.
V: Talk to you tomorrow
V: Have a great day!
J: Looking forward to it
J: Have a great day as well
I woke up to a “Good morning” text from Veronica the following day, as well as the majority of the mornings that followed. Sometimes I beat her to the punch and texted first, and sometimes we texted each other simultaneously.
About a week and a half had passed before I worked up enough courage to call her. It was weird at first. There was a lot of awkward silence, but once I told Veronica that I wasn’t the greatest phone talker, and she said she was the same, our conversations flowed as smoothly as the night we met. And it was about two weeks before she worked up the courage to ask if I wanted to go out and ‘people watch’ in Union Square the coming Saturday.
I was looking forward to seeing Veronica again. Even though we talked just about every day, whether it was on the phone or texting, it didn’t compare to being able to stare into her dreamy eyes.
Saturday finally came, and we met near the guys playing chess in Union Square Park. Surprisingly, she hugged me, and it was nice to be in her embrace. Damn, she smells good.
We sat on the stairs and watched teens practice their kick-flips and ollies. Someone was serenading us with their makeshift drums. All around us, people were enjoying their Saturday.
“Hey, I’m sorry, but can we go to Barnes and Noble so I can use the restroom?”
“Sure, but DSW is across the street, and they have a bathroom, too,” I responded.
“Yeah, I know, but I wanted to see if they had Grant Hinton’s new book, Unread: Vol 3.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were into horror books, too.”
“Yeah. I have been reading them for a few years now. Are you currently reading anything?”
“Not currently, but I’ve been meaning to buy Undulating Flesh: A Flash Fiction Amalgamation by Jesse Pullins. Maybe Barnes and Noble will have it in stock. Speaking of which, I guess we should start heading over there.”
We made our way to B&N, dodging people and rats alike. While Veronica went to the restroom, I went to the horror fiction section. An employee told me that books from both authors were only available on Amazon, but they were hoping to stock them soon.
I was busy reading the backs of books when I felt a hand touch my shoulder.
“Hey, sorry about the wait. There was a long line for the women’s restroom.”
“Isn’t there always,” I responded, and we both chuckled. “Oh, they don’t carry Hinton’s or Pullins’ books yet, so we’ll have to order them from Amazon.”
“Oh well, guess we’ll have to order them.”
Veronica joined me in looking through the fantasy section when our stomachs growled simultaneously. We looked at each other, laughed, and decided that we should listen to our stomachs and eat.
We went to The Coffee Shop, a nice restaurant/bar located about a three-minute walk from Barnes and Noble. The late-evening crowd was there in full force, but we found two seats at the bar.
Veronica randomly asked, “so, where do you see yourself in five years?” and I almost choked on my beer. I suddenly felt like I was interviewing for a job that paid 120K a year and had full benefits, two months of time off, full tuition reimbursement, and a parking spot.
She must have seen the sweat that was starting to accumulate on my brow because she said, “relax, I’m just kidding,” with a coy smile on her face.
I still gave the originally intended response: “hopefully, with you.”
She blushed, and we stared into each other’s eyes. Some unseen force pulled our lips together, and they met in an explosion of passion and lust.
We paid the bill and got in a cab. It was torture trying to keep our hands off each other, but neither wanted to give the driver a free show.
Veronica thrust herself upon me before I could even finish locking my door, grabbing my hair, and encircling my tongue in hers.
Clothes were torn off and tossed asunder as we made our way into the bedroom.
Veronica threw me onto the bed and straddled me, kissing my body, slowly making her way down and taking me into her mouth. She licked and sucked while I gripped the sheets and moaned in pure ecstasy.
She repeatedly brought me close to the point of no return before sliding on a condom, and she bit her lower lip as I entered her.
Veronica rode me so intensely that the bed creaked, and the frame slammed against the wall. It must have been hitting the plug for my bedside lamp because the light started to flicker as her moans grew louder and her movements got faster.
I rolled her nipples with one hand while the other grabbed her hips, trying to keep us in sync. Her movements became faster and more purposeful, and I could tell that she was close.
Veronica yelled, “Ho ym odg, n’tdo opst, oh my god,” repeatedly.
I felt my heartbeat quicken, and I joined in on her song.
“Oh, fuck. Oh shit. Oooooh shhhhiiiiii—”
*Forty seconds until ejaculation*
“Listen up, the moment we have been training for all our lives has finally come. We have one goal and one goal only. Any of you bastards care to tell me what that is?”
“Sir, to reach the egg, sir.”
“Damn fucking right, corporal!”
*Thirty seconds until ejaculation*
“I’m scared; I don’t want to die.”
“Ninety-nine percent of us will die, Private. It is what we were bred to do! So instead of not knowing if you will die, let’s choose to die today!”
*Twenty seconds until ejaculation*
“What are we!”
“Sperm.”
“I can’t hear you. I said WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE!”
“SPERM!”
“AND WHAT ARE WE HERE TO DO!”
“PROCREATE.”
*Ten seconds until ejaculation*
“Dam fucking right!”
“HOLD!”
“HOLD!”
“HOLD!”
“CHARGE!”
“FOR PROCREATION!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“CHAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGE!”
“FOR PROCREATION!”
“Sir, we’re getting slaughtered out there. They’re sentries patrolling the area, and protecting the shield, even if it cost them their lives.”
“Goddammit Jones, where the fuck are my reinforcements? And somebody get that damn battering ram.”
“Sir! The reinforcements are here, and we’ve just broken through the shield.”
“TO THE EGG!”
“TO THE EGG!”
“—iiiiiiiiitttttttt!”
We moaned in unison as the lamp flickered more violently, and the bulb shorted itself out as we climaxed together.
Veronica collapsed onto my chest, and we lay there, desperately trying to catch our breaths.
The feeling of her bare skin against mine was electrifying, and everything just felt right. She said she wanted to spend the night, and I didn’t protest. We showered and fell asleep spooning.
ZZZZZZ
“Kewa pu! I idsa kewa pu!”
*slap*
A slap across my face jolts me awake, and I instinctively try to cover my face, but my hands won’t move.
*slap*
Another slap, and I recoil in pain. I try to open my eyes, but a blinding light forces them shut. The light penetrates my eyelids.
*punch*
A heavy fist connects with my stomach, and I gasp for air through the pain.
“Please stop. Why are you doing this?
“Utsh pu! We’ll see if she still likes you after I’m done.”
“What the fuck are you talking about. I don’t even kno—”
*kick*
I howl out in pain as a foot buries itself into my groin.
“I idsa utsh het ckfu pu.”
*scrape*
The sound of metal on metal causes my body to shake. I try to open my eyes again, but it’s like staring into the sun.
“Wait! No! Stop!”
I plead, but they fall on deaf ears.
*stab*
A blade pierces my flesh and scrapes against my ribs.
“Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr—
ZZZZZZ
“—ggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!”
“Jeremy! Jeremy! Wake up!”
Someone shook me.
“Get off me! Get off me! Get off me!”
“Jeremy! Please wake up! You’re dreaming. Jeremy!”
A voice penetrated all the pain and brought me back. I touched my side and was relieved that I didn’t feel any open wounds or blood. I opened my eyes and saw Veronica.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see someone.”
I pulled her in close.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“I think so. I had a horrible nightmare, and it felt so real.”
“Do you remember what it was about?”
I tried, but I drew a blank.
“I don’t.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Yeah, I think so. Can we lay here for a while longer?”
“Of course, we can. It’s Sunday, and I don’t have anywhere to be.” She snuggled up to me, and I relished in the warmth of her body while trying not to think about the nightmare and how it made me feel.
We got up a little while later and lounged around the rest of the day. It was nice just being able to relax with Veronica.
She left in the late afternoon, and we talked throughout the week. She was back at my place on Saturday, which became our routine. Occasionally, I spent the night at her apartment, but I think Veronica preferred to stay with me.
Her apartment was smaller than mine—one bedroom compared to my three—and the space felt a little cramped. She also had a significant amount of art supplies, but she was a freelance artist, so that was expected.
Although I didn’t have them every night, the nightmares continued. Fortunately, Veronica was always there to comfort me when I woke up.
I’d never placed much stock in relationships before, but I was grateful for the one I had with Veronica. She made me happy, and her ever-present smile told me I made her happy, too.
V: Do you want to have a picnic on Saturday?
V: The weather is supposed to be beautiful
J: Probably not as beautiful as you are
V: 😊
J: A picnic sounds like an excellent idea
J: Where are you thinking of going?
V: How about central park?
J: Sounds like a plan
Veronica came over that Friday and we made a charcuterie board for the picnic Saturday morning.
Despite the beautiful weather, there weren’t many people on the East Meadow, and we found a nice spot under the shade of a great tree.
We enjoyed the fruits, and meats, of our labor from the morning as the joyful screams of children from the adjacent playground filled the air.
We were talking about our plans for the following week when I got the feeling that we were being watched. I scanned my surroundings, and when my eyes fell upon a woman standing on the other side of the fence, she quickly turned her gaze to the phone in her hand.
I don’t know why, but something about her was unsettling. Maybe it was because she was wearing a coat and Uggs when it was warm out. Or perhaps it was because she had an umbrella stroller with her, but there wasn’t a baby inside it. It’s possible that her child was at the park with another adult.
Had she been watching us?
“Hey, is everything alright?”
Veronica startled me.
“What? Oh. Sorry. A lady was staring at us.”
Veronica followed the direction of my gaze, but the woman wasn’t there anymore.
“She was there a moment ago.”
“Maybe your intensity scared her off.” Veronica laughed at her quip.
“Very funny.”
It was probably just my imagination.
“Jeremy, I have something for you.”
Veronica pulled out a nondescript brown paper bag from her purse. She smiled as she handed it to and as I took it, my pulse began to quicken.
I think my heart knew what was in the bag before my brain did, and as I opened it and pulled out a small piece of clothing, I didn’t even try to wipe away the tears that slowly ran down my cheek.
It was a onesie that said, “a new member is joining your band,” in big, bold letters. I stared at those life-changing words for what seemed like forever, and then I stared into Veronica’s teary eyes before pulling her into my embrace.
As if rehearsed, we simultaneously said, “we’re having a baby.”
I stared into her eyes again, and, for the very first time, I said, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I couldn’t believe that we were having a baby. It was exciting but also terrifying. I didn’t have the slightest idea about how to be a father, and, growing up, I never had a role model.
Sure, there was a man who had the role of a father, but he didn’t act like one.
His name was Bruno, and he was a selfish, self-centered prick who only loved and cared about himself and his future. He would rant on about wanting to be remembered, whatever that meant.
He was barely home and spent even less time with my mom and me.
When he was home, he sat on the couch, drinking beer while watching re-runs of black and white sitcoms. Even though he’d seen it hundreds of times, he would spit out beer whenever he saw Lucy hiccup because she had too many doses of Vitameatavegemin.
My parents constantly argued because he wasn’t doing his job as a man, husband, or father, and he didn’t like to be told about himself. He would always storm off like a petulant child.
I always asked why she continued to stay married to him, and her response would always be: “even though he doesn’t show it (or say it), he still loves us.”
He showed just how much he loved my mom when he hit her in the face with a beer bottle, fracturing her right eye socket.
It was a very traumatic day for all of us. My mother lost the vision in her right eye, and my father got his wish and was immortalized on a milk carton.
I forced out those negative feelings and hurtful memories and tried to focus on the present. I focused on how I would be the number one dad in the universe.
“Move in with me,” I said, the words coming out on their own. “I mean, we’re starting a family, right? It makes sense that we live together. We can turn the extra bedroom into a nursery, and I can consolidate my things so you can have enough room for your art supplies in my office.”
“You would do that for me?”
“Of course, I would.” But then a thought occurred to me. “What about your lease? Are you going to be able to get out of it?”
“Technically, it’s my parent’s apartment. They bought it when they first moved here, and when I voiced that I wanted to move out on my own, their condition was that I would move into it.”
“Oh, okay. How soon do you want to move in?”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I can pack the essentials tonight and take a cab back to your place.”
“I think you mean our place, and I’ll come with you to help you get some stuff together.”
I couldn’t believe how my life was turning out. It felt like it was only yesterday that I avoided a personal injury lawsuit at the concert, and now we were having a baby, and Veronica was moving in with me. Although it has only been a few months since we met, they have been the best months of my life, and sometimes you just move at the speed of life.
“Hey, do you want to meet my mother?” I asked, hoping she didn’t notice the hesitancy in my voice.
I wasn’t as close to my mother as I used to be, and long periods of time would go by before we saw or spoke to each other. Every time I looked at her face or heard her voice, I was reminded of what was taken from us, and sometimes it was too unbearable.
“I would love to. Will I meet your dad as well?”
“He left us several years ago, and I haven’t heard a word from him since. We don’t talk about him.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I understand. The relationship between me and my parents is strained. Despite my age, they are very overprotective, and like I said earlier, only let me move out if I lived in their old apartment.”
Of all the conversations we’ve had, I don’t think we ever talked about our family, and now it makes sense.
I simply replied, “I understand,” not wanting to unearth any more unwanted emotions.
We finished our picnic and went to Veronica’s place so she could pack enough to get her through the week. We were going to start moving her things the following Saturday.
Veronica went to bed shortly after we got home, and I wasn’t too far behind her. Unfortunately, my brain had other plans, so I had a staring contest with the ceiling. The score was tied, and it was sudden death. The ceiling was about to relent when Veronica began talking in her sleep and startled me. I cursed myself for blinking and moved my head closer to her mouth.
She didn’t sound like she was speaking English. Although Veronica never said that she spoke another language—I never explicitly asked—it may be another thing I haven’t learned about her yet.
Veronica had been repeating the same thing intermittently, so I got my phone ready to record the next time she spoke. Then I put it through Google Translate to see if it matched any of the languages in its database, but the results came up empty. It did, however, approximate a spelling: illavan eic amcre.
I carefully got out of bed and went into the living room to replay the recording of her voice. The more I listened, the more I felt like I’d heard that language before if it’s even another language. Veronica was an undercover Trekkie for all I knew, and she was speaking in Klingon.
I decided that it would be best to wait until the morning to ask Veronica.
I brought up the sleep talking during breakfast, and Veronica said she didn’t remember talking in her sleep or if she dreamt. Then I played the recording for her. I don’t know if I imagined it, but I thought I saw a hint of recognition on her face.
“Do you speak another language? Do you have any idea of what you were saying?”
“Sorry, English is my first and only language. I wish I knew what I was saying, though.”
I took her word for it and dropped it. I didn’t have a reason not to believe her, and even if she had lied, it wasn’t like I had been one-hundred percent honest with her.
Between Veronica’s sleep talking and my nightmares, it was a feat that we got any sleep.
It took two weeks to move Veronica’s stuff in, and we left her furniture and bulky art supplies at her old apartment. We finished just in time because Veronica’s first prenatal appointment was coming up.
Her primary care physician was also her OB/GYN, and their office was in a brownstone in Harlem. The façade of the building was no different from that of any of the other brownstones on the block, and the waiting/reception area was as plain as plain yogurt. However, the inside of the examination room was like something I had never seen before. It felt like I was stepping onto a science fiction movie set. Granted, the only time I’ve seen equipment from an OB’s office was on television, so I couldn’t say if it was futuristic or not, but it looked to be.
The nurse came into the room, took Veronica’s vitals, and instructed her to undress and put on a gown while we waited for the doctor to come in. Her doctor walked in a few minutes later and began the examination.
Veronica’s doctor moved a ‘magic wand’-like device over her stomach, and a rhythmic sound started to fill the room.
I couldn’t believe that I was hearing the heartbeat of our baby. In a matter of months, the thought that I would be holding a bundle of joy, rocking them to sleep, just warmed my heart and put a massive smile on my face.
Then the screen that the wand was connected to came to life, and I saw distinguishable movements on the screen. Veronica’s doctor must’ve noticed my bewilderment and removed the wand from Veronica’s belly, killing the image on the screen.
“Oh, sorry, the machine started to playback footage from a previous ultrasound. I’ll have to get IT to investigate why that happened. Veronica, we’re done for the day, but can I speak with you alone?”
Veronica got this look on her face and said, “sure.”
“Jeremy, do you mind waiting in the reception area? I won’t be too long.”
“I’ll wait for you outside.”
I kissed Veronica and closed the door behind me, but I heard hushed voices before I made it to the end of the hallway. I couldn’t make out what they were saying or the tone of their voices, but it sounded like they were speaking a different language.
I wanted to trust Veronica, but I had a suspicion that she had been lying to me.
Did I truly know Veronica? What kind of skeletons was she hiding in her closet?
I had only been outside for a few minutes before I got the same feeling that I had at the picnic; that I was being watched. I slowly panned my head, scanning my surroundings. I saw the same woman from Central Park. She was across the street, standing near a tree. Just like at the picnic, she quickly glanced down at her phone when I saw her.
“Excuse me, can I help you with something?!”
She pretended not to hear me, So I started to descend the stairs.
“Excuse me! Is there a reason why you’re staring at me?
“Jeremy, where are you going?”
I turned around.
“That woman from the picnic is across the street. I think she has been stalking us. How else would she know that we’re here?”
Veronica looked at the woman, and, just like when I played the recording of her voice, I saw a hint of recognition in her face.
“Veronica, do you know her?”
“No, Jeremy, I don’t know her, but it’s a small world. Maybe she is visiting someone. Maybe she stopped to tie her shoe, and you just happened to look in your direction.”
“Are you serious right now? Why are you getting so defensive? And what was that back in the doctor’s office? The thing on the screen? And I’m pretty sure I heard you and the doctor speaking the same language that I hear when you talk in your sleep. What are you not telling me? What are you hiding, Veronica?”
“I’m not hiding anything. Can we please just go home?”
“Whatever, Veronica. Let’s go.”
We had never argued before, let alone raised our voices at each other, which made the current situation especially difficult.
Veronica and I barely talked on the way home, and once we got there, the space just felt so small. I needed some fresh air and some time to think about everything, so I put on my shoes and started to leave.
“Jeremy, where are you going?”
“I need some time to think. I’m going for a walk.”
I locked the door behind me, and as I walked to the stairwell, I heard Veronica start crying. I wanted to go back. I just wanted to hold her. I wanted everything to be okay, but it wasn’t. She was lying to me, and I didn’t know why.
I walked without a destination in mind. I loved Veronica, but what is a relationship without trust.
My phone buzzed.
“Hello.”
“Jeremy, I’m sorry. Please come back home. I’ll tell you everything.”
“No more secrets, Veronica. Promise me.”
“I promise, no more secrets.”
I was happy that she had called. I changed directions and started to walk home.
“Okay, I’m walking back home, and I’m sorry that I just left like that.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It was my fault. I should have told you the truth. I was afraid that you wouldn’t love me anymore and leave me.”
“Hey, you don’t have to cry. There’s nothing that you can tell me that would make me love you any less. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you, Veronica.”
“Oh, Jeremy, I love you, too.”
A panel van clipped my leg as I crossed the street, sending me to the ground, and my phone tumbled to the road.
Two men jumped out.
“What the fuck is your problem? You fucking hit me!”
One of the men picked up my phone, and the last thing I heard before a boot made contact with my face was, “ouy ldn’tshou veha ftle ew, Nicavero.”
| **» | ** |
“Kewa pu! I idsa kewa pu!”
*punch*
A punch to my stomach jolts me awake and knocks the wind out of me. Before I can catch my breath, I feel another.
*punch*
I groan in pain. I try to open my eyes, but all I see is darkness.
*punch*
I try to move my hands but can’t.
“Where am I? Why am I tied up? Why can’t I see?”
“Reyou otn llyrea ni a tionposi ot ska tionsques, rea ouy?”
*punch*
Blood immediately fills my mouth.
“Please stop. Please. Why are you doing this to me?”
“Ywh! Ywh!”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“You took Nicavero from me.”
“Who is that? I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Veronica, you filthy human.”
*punch*
“What are you talking about?”
*punch*
“Oh, it looks like you’re bleeding. Let me help you with that.”
He takes off my blindfold, shoves it into my mouth, and proceeds to punch me like Kenshiro. The pain is excruciating.
When he stops to wipe the blood off his knuckles, I try to get a good look at his face. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.
His skin is charcoal grey. His face almost looks human, but the proportions are all wrong. And his eyes. He has no pupils. It’s like staring into an abyss.
“What the hell are you? Who are you? What do you want with me?”
“Hahahahahahahahaha—”
“What the fuck is so funny?”
Anger starts to eclipse any pain that I feel.
“You poor, poor, frail human. You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Why would I fucking remember you? I’ve never seen you before in my life?”
“Come now, don’t hurt my feelings. I’ve been in your dreams almost every night.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He walks to a metal table, grabs a knife, and drags it across it. The sound of metal against metal makes me feel unbridled fear.
“It seems like you are starting to remember. I knew the dream invader would work, but I didn’t know that the subjects would forget.”
He approaches me slowly, methodically.
The only thing I can do is plead.
“Please stop. I’ll do anything. Please.”
“You can die, so Veronica has no choice but to return to me.”
He stabs me in the leg.
“Arrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhh.”
Urine and blood soak my jeans.
“She was promised to me. To me!”
He yells as he drives the blade in deeper.
He stands up and walks back to the table, retrieving another knife.
“And if I can’t have her, you can’t either.”
The blade scrapes against my rib cage and finds its way into my lung.
“I wish I would’ve brought some popcorn to munch on while I watch you bleed out.”
I no longer feel any pain, just sadness and hopelessness. I was never going to see Veronica again. I was never going to hold her, kiss her, see her smile. I was never going to meet our baby. Hold them. Rock them to sleep. Bounce them on my knee.
It was all over for me, and I could do nothing about it.
I stare at the Mars Attack reject and spit on him.
He laughs as he wipes it from his face, but it is cut short when the door is kicked open by the lady from the park. He stands up and rushes her, but he is too slow. She gets behind him, grabs his arms, and rips them off. He screams, but that is cut short, too, when she rips off his head, splattering everything with a dark, viscous liquid.
I lose consciousness as she walks over to me and smiles.
| **» | ** |
Beep
Beep
Beep
“JeremyI’msofpiyhwethnldsf”
Beep
Beep
Beep
“Pleaselknfioehnflme.”
Beep
Beep
Beep
“poihyfoenfoikhdfyou.”
Beep
Beep
Beep
“I lovekjlhbefihaosdnfoih.”
Beep
Beep
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
| ***» | *** |
“lkhjfdo9he’s finally waking up.”
“Oh, Jeremy, I thought I lost you forever.”
I hear a familiar voice and open my eyes. Everything is blurry.
“Veronica, is that you?” I struggle to speak.
“I’m so sorry. It’s my fault that this happened to you.”
I can feel her tears hit my hand. My vision slowly begins to return, and I look around as much as my head allows me to.
“Where am—” I cough.
Veronica puts a glass of water against my lips, and I let the cold liquid soothe my throat.
I try to move my body, but it hurts so much.
“You shouldn’t try to move yet.” Another familiar voice. I follow it, and it’s Veronica’s doctor. “You’ve suffered extensive tissue damage, and your body isn’t done healing itself yet. But you’ll be good as new just in time for the baby. I’ll make sure of it.”
I don’t know what’s going on or where I am. The last thing I remember is that freak having his head ripped off.
“Who was the guy that tried to kill me? Who was that lady that saved me?”
“You will have answers in due time, but now you must rest. Veronica, please leave.”
“I’ll be back to check on you.”
She kisses me on the forehead.
“I love you. And I promise I will tell you everything.”
“I love you, too.”
She leaves, and I close my eyes.
| **» | ** |
I open my eyes and look around the room.
“Mom. Is that you?”
She’s sitting next to my bed, reading a book.
“Good morning sleepy head. You had us worried. How do you feel?”
I sat up, and my body didn’t hurt anymore.
“I feel better. I don’t mean to sound rude, but what are you doing here? Where are we?”
“It’s not rude sweetie. I can imagine that all this doesn’t make much sense right now. After you were taken, Veronica sent her bodyguard to get me and make sure I was kept safe.”
“Her bodyguard?”
“Yes. The woman that saved your life. Be sure to thank her when you see her.”
So much going through my head. I don’t know how to make sense of any of it.
“Where’s Veronica?”
“She’s on the bridge. She said that she’ll visit you later. You sure got yourself a keeper.”
She laughs and then winks her right eye at me.
“The scar. It’s gone.”
“You can thank Veronica’s doctor for that. She reversed the damage, and now I can see out of it again.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“We’re on our way to meet Veronica’s parents. As far as where we are, you can see for yourself.”
My mother helps me out of bed, and we walk to the window. She pulls up the shade, and I can’t believe what I see.
A reddish-looking planet and two moons.