Dreams of Desolation, page 16
“I’ll wait for you out here,” Morgan said before leaving Chelsea standing outside the bathroom and headed into the stall.
The stall was trashed. Toilet paper was flung all over the floor, and the smell of fresh vomit filled the air. As she hovered over the toilet seat, Morgan held her balance, holding on to the toilet paper receptacle. When she was finished, she walked out and washed her hands, staring into the mirror. Morgan didn’t want to take her eyes off her reflection, thinking about the wretched woman from the park—the one who regretted the day she set foot in Whispering Pines. Every time Morgan saw her reflection, she feared witnessing the woman’s wicked face once again.
The vison only appeared the day she attacked Nicole. Still, every time she looked in a mirror, she could feel her cold, dead stare looking back at her as if a piece of the woman had stayed inside Morgan. She looked around under the stalls to see if she recognized Chelsea’s shoes, but her vision was blurry, and her judgment dwindled. She dried her hands and exited the bathroom.
“Morgan,” she heard her name being called as she made her way back towards Victor.
She turned around, expecting to see Chelsea, but instead, she saw sour-faced Karen standing behind her with two other girls. Morgan knew she should have just walked away, ignored Karen, and returned to Victor, but Morgan wasn’t the type to back down.
“What do you want?”
“So, you’re with Victor now?” Karen asked.
“I am.”
“Well, you should know that he was mine before he was yours, and he’s not what he seems to be. He’s a liar. Once he gets what he wants out of you, he’s going to leave you, just like he did to me,” Karen said.
“I’m nothing like you,” Morgan dismissed her.
“He treated me like dirt,” Karen said.
“Maybe, because that’s what you are.”
“And that’s what he’ll make you feel like, eventually. Is he any good in bed?”
“That’s none of your goddamn business,” Morgan said, walking away from Karen.
“Hey, don’t walk away from me,” Karen snapped as she grabbed Morgan’s ponytail and pulled her back.
“Get off me,” Morgan screamed—and without thinking twice, she swung an elbow at Karen’s nose, making blood immediately gush out.
Karen stumbled backward only to be caught by her friends as the crowd around them groaned and cheered Morgan on.
“Stay the fuck away from me, Karen. Or next time, I’ll do worse than what I did to Nicole,” Morgan screamed as she removed herself and pushed her way through the crowd taking videos and pictures.
“You’re going to regret this,” Karen screamed, holding her nose.
Morgan hadn’t felt this angry since the day her dog died. She stomped through the dance floor, shoving bystanders out of her way as her blood boiled. She saw Victor talking to Chelsea—he seemed upset, Chelsea seemed worried. Morgan’s mind raced a million miles a minute. Had Chelsea made a pass at Victor? Was he playing her? Did he actually have a history with Karen?
“Victor, we have to go,” she said as she stepped into the booth, but he didn’t react.
He just stood there staring into the dance floor.
“Hey, are you listening?” she screamed in his ear.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your condition? Do you not trust me?” Victor asked.
Morgan was confused, but as she looked at Chelsea, she understood, Chelsea had said too much.
“I’m so sorry, Morgan. We were just talking, and it slipped out.” Chelsea confessed.
“What the hell, Chelsea?” Morgan screamed.
“There’s no reason to withhold your past from me. What else are you hiding?” Victor questioned.
“I’m not hiding anything, but I should ask you the same question. Why didn’t you tell me you used to date, Karen?” Morgan shot back.
“Karen? She was nothing to me,” Victor affirmed.
“Is that how you’ll feel about me?”
“No, Morgan. You don’t understand.”
“Fuck off, both of you,” Morgan said in a drunken stupor.
She didn’t want to hear anything else and ran away, attempting to find the exit through her hazy vision and a crowd of unknown faces. One by one, the people around her started looking at her, their expressions changing. Their faces full of excitement morphed into faces tortured by their own existence, displaying the same face Morgan had seen one too many times before.
“Excuse me,” she screamed, being stopped by one of the girls in the crowd.
“I really do hope you’re only passing by. Everyone who lays roots in this doomed city regrets it,” the girl said with a dead stare.
“What?” Morgan asked, in a confused state.
“Morgan, stop,” she heard Chelsea scream behind her, but she didn’t turn around.
She just kept running, stumbling through the crowd only to held back by another person in the group.
“There’s something in the water here, turns people wicked,” the scratchy voice was familiar.
“I’m just trying to find the exit.” Morgan pleaded.
“The only way out of this goddamned place is death.” another girl said, her wrinkled face laughing at Morgan.
“Leave me alone,” she screamed back as she tried to shove her way through a group of people, their faces turning into that of the woman from the mirror.
“You should never have come to Whispering Pines,” another voice said.
Morgan cried as she stared at everyone around her, all the same vision. The same woman, chanting the same thing. Their laughter grew more wicked as their frail hands reached out to grab hold of Morgan’s soul. Morgan cowered in the middle of the dance floor, attempting to shield herself from her fate.
“You’ll end up like the rest of us.” they chanted and laughed.
“Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us!” their voices overpowered the music.
Their evil faces came closer—with skin stretched out over their bony hands, they reached out to snatch whatever piece of sanity remained within Morgan.
“Stop, that’s enough. Stop it now.”
Morgan shielded herself and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, the visions of the woman were gone. The only thing she could see was a crowd of confused college kids staring back at her. Morgan felt as if she had been tag-teamed by Karen, Victor, and Chelsea—and in her current state of mind, Morgan couldn’t make sense of anything as the level of her anxiety increased as a perfect evening became a living nightmare.
When she finally reached an exit, Morgan pushed the door open, gasping for air. With the momentum, Morgan tripped on the curb, tumbling to the ground—scraping her palms on the cement. Morgan felt helpless and insignificant as she began crying to the point of hyperventilating. The crowd of people standing in a cloud of cigarette smoke stood by idly, watching her suffer. No one offered a helping hand. No one cared.
Morgan felt once again that she had made the wrong decision in coming to Whispering Pines. All she wanted was to grow as a person and live a life outside of her parent’s shadow, but maybe she belonged at home in her own bed with Sawyer.
“Morgan,” she heard Victor and Chelsea call out from behind her.
“Stand up, honey,” Chelsea said as she placed her hand on Morgan’s shoulder.
Morgan pushed Chelsea away and stood up on her own, as she had done many times before—and through teary eyes, she stared at Victor and Chelsea, feeling hurt by both of them.
“I can’t believe you told Victor. I was going to tell him about everything. Maybe not tonight, but soon… Eventually,” Morgan said.
“I’m sorry, Morgan. I didn’t mean to say anything about your sleepwalking. Victor and I were talking and joking, and it slipped out. Please believe me. I’m only here trying to be your friend. I’m only here trying to look after you. I’m only here because I care about you.” Chelsea begged for her best friend’s forgiveness.
“No, Chelsea. That’s not why you’re here. You’re only here because my parents paid for your fucking tuition,” Morgan exploded.
“What are you talking about?”
“Yes, my parents are paying for you to be here.”
“You’re lying. I can’t believe you would say that to me. My mother’s paying for everything. Besides, I didn’t even want to come here, but your dad practically begged me to. He said he would like me to be by your side, so your crazy ass didn’t sleepwalk off a bridge.” Chelsea shot back.
“Do you really think your raggedy-ass mother could afford college tuition for you on her welfare? She came to my house one night, in her stained housekeeper outfit, and begged my parents for money so you could go to college. To give you a shot at life, so you didn’t turn out like her. Broke, uneducated, and alone.” Morgan’s dreadful accusation struck Chelsea like daggers through her heart.
“Fuck you, Morgan,” Chelsea yelled as she reached up to her neck, grabbed hold of the best friend necklace both her and Morgan had worn since they were children, and yanked it off her neck.
Without hesitation, she whipped it at Morgan, striking her in the face creating a slit across Morgan’s right cheek. Morgan covered her face as she felt blood trickle down and watched Chelsea run away into the darkness.
Morgan was in disbelief at what she had done. Chelsea was the only person that had been there for her ever since she could remember.
“Morgan.”
“Leave me alone, Victor,” she responded.
“We should go after her. It’s late—she’s drunk, you’re drunk.”
“She can find her own way home, as can I.” Morgan slurred her words as she began stumbling away.
“Don’t be stupid, Morgan.”
“I’m not stupid, Victor. You lied to me. You told me you never had anything serious.”
“Look, I don’t know what Karen said to you, but you have to trust me. That girl was crazy.”
“Is that what you’ll say about me too?” Morgan wasn’t thinking straight.
“Morgan, stop it. I’m just saying you and Chelsea shouldn’t be out here alone. Let me call us a ride.” Victor said as he tried to hold Morgan.
“Leave me alone. I can take care of myself. Why don’t you give Karen a ride?” Morgan said, pushing him away from her.
“Fine, Morgan. Have it your way,” he said as he turned and walked away towards his apartment.
The streets seemed darker and were dead silent after midnight, but Morgan could indeed take care of herself. It was as simple as pulling out her phone and requesting a ride. She did just that, but her phone was dead. All Morgan could do was walk to the bookstore, where she left her purse and charger.
She couldn’t believe the night had gone from laughing atop the Ferris wheel straight into the gutter. She wiped her hands on her jeans and wiped her tears with the sleeves of her sweater. Morgan walked towards the bookstore, looking over her shoulders every step of the way. She felt something looming over her. Perhaps it was just her guilt weighing down on her, as she had taken her anger out on two of the people she loved most. She was deaf from the loud music pounding in her ears, and her vision was askew. Not only from the alcohol swirling in her brain but from the sensory overload of all the lights. Compared to thumping bass in at the party, the silence in the streets was deafening, and she welcomed the solemn darkness ahead of her.
When Morgan reached the bookstore, she struggled to put the key in the lock, but when she finally was able to unlock the door, the alarm started beeping. Quickly, she shut it off. Standing alone in the middle of the store, Morgan realized she had nowhere to go. She did not want to go to Victor’s or back to the dorm and face Chelsea. Since she was scheduled to open the bookstore in the morning, she thought to sleep on the futon in Arthur’s office. Morgan locked the door behind her and reactivated the alarm. She approached the counter and bent down to grab her purse, as the silent bookstore filled with the sound of glass shattering followed by the alarm blaring through the night. Morgan jumped up to see a brick lying on the floor, thrown through the front window. She glanced beyond the broken glass to see someone standing in the street with her middle fingers raised high in the air.
“Fuck you, Morgan,” Karen screamed and ran away—leaving Morgan to deal with the consequences.
In a drunken blur, Morgan stumbled around, trying to figure out what to do. Her phone was dead, so she couldn’t call the police, and it didn’t occur to her to run out the backdoor. Instead, she ran to the front and attempted to turn off the alarm. She punched in the correct code, 78607860, but it didn’t stop. She tried again, but it seemed as if the alarm only got louder. It wasn’t just the alarm, however. It was the sound of police cars—a cacophony of sirens. Blue and red lights filled the bookstore as she ran to grab the brick to show the police what had broken the window. Three squad cars pulled up—six officers stepped out—their guns drawn.
“Oh, I’m fucked,” Morgan said.
“Drop the weapon, come out with your hands up,” one officer screamed over the loudspeaker.
Morgan did as she was told and dropped the brick.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she said, hoping Officer Jones was there, so she could explain everything to her.
Blinded by the cop’s spotlight, she put her bruised hands in the air, she felt more blood trickle down her cheek, and realized without a doubt—she looked like a criminal.
“You’ve got the wrong idea,” she said as she exited the bookstore.
“Turn around and put your hands behind your back,” another officer said as he approached her.
Morgan knew better than to resist as the officer approached her and said words she never wanted to hear.
“I’m placing you under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…” as he continued to read her Miranda rights, she felt that she would be safest in jail, at least for the night.
Sitting in the back of the squad car, hands cuffed behind her back, Morgan stayed silent on her way to the station. When she arrived and was pulled out of the squad car, she kept her head down. The booking officer took her statement, as she explained that she worked at the bookstore, but it was something that she couldn’t prove. Even if that was the case, she was the only one at the scene of the crime. After she was digitally fingerprinted and her mugshot was taken, she was given the right to make one phone call before being thrown into a cell for the night.
She stood in front of a payphone, which she had never before seen in person, and dialed the only phone number she knew by heart. It rang twice before someone picked up on the other end, and through broken sobs, Morgan said words she never thought she would have to say.
“Hi, I’m in jail.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Laws of Fate
M organ awoke in her cell, drowsy and stiff. Her head and body ached from the drinking and the stress she put upon herself the night before. She had passed out on the cold concrete floor and wanted nothing more than to be in her own bed back in Kingston. She would have even settled for a sleeping bag in Tent City—she wanted anything other than her current situation. Her bones cracked as she sat up, and her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. No matter how many times she blinked or rubbed her eyes, she couldn’t see anything. As she felt a cold breeze waft through the cell, she wondered about what happened to the harsh fluorescent lighting that denied her peace as she fell asleep. Either there had been a blackout, or she’d gone blind. She sat in silence as well. Gone was the clamor of the police station.
“Hello?” her voice creaked in the darkness.
There was no answer. Morgan sat alone, holding onto her knees, trying to warm herself up. She exhaled into her hands and rubbed her arms, and remembered she used her sweater as a pillow and began to crawl around, searching for it. Her palms to the floor, she realized that it wasn’t crawling on the cement floor she had fallen asleep on as her fingers dug into cold, wet soil. Without sight, she started to panic but concentrated on what she could sense. From afar, she could hear the low hum of what sounded like old machinery. The thick air tasted moist, and a putrid scent lingered, reminding her of Tent City. Urine and feces—rotting humanity. She felt around the dirt floor for anything that might keep her warm—but as she crawled forward, all she could feel were metal bars in front of her. She stood up and followed the bars around like a blind person following the walls of an unfamiliar setting. Morgan counted carefully, twelve bars across, and then a cement wall. She followed the wall for six steps and came to another wall, took another six steps, and then more bars. There was an adjacent cell—she hoped there was someone else in the darkness with her.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” she asked.
Silence. She held her breath for a few seconds to hear if anyone else was around—if anyone else was breathing or walking, she searched for any sign of life.
“Hello,” she began to panic as she shook the bars. “Hello, anybody? Someone, please help me,” she screamed into the darkness.
“Stop it.” a tiny voice whispered from the cell next to hers.
“Oh, thank God. I thought I was alone in here,” she blurted out.
“You have to be quiet. If not, they’ll come for you.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be quieter. Where are we?” Morgan whispered.
“I’m not sure. We could be near or could be very far away from where we were taken.”
“What do you mean? How did you get here?”
“Same way you did. I just woke up here one day. The last thing I remember is walking home from school. And suddenly, I was here, in the dark. There were others here with me before. We used to talk. But every time someone started crying or screaming, they would send the monster to come and get them.”
“What kind of monster?”
“I could never see it. It’s always dark here—and cold. I don’t even know what day it is. I kept track of how many times I woke up by digging small holes in the ground, but eventually, I lost count. Besides, time doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of it until we die,” the voice said.
