//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Otherworldly Carol // by Moniker375 //------------------------------// Chapter 1 Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results means you’re either insane or are making a New Year’s resolution. I must be insane, well as far as Albert Einstein is concerned. “I really need to stop going to bed so late.” I groan rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “You sure you are okay Carol? You look pale.” My boss, Megan looks at me with concern written on her face. “I am fine, I just need to get more sleep is all.” I force a grin as I sip my extra-large mocha espresso. Coffee is the one thing keeping me sane at this point. It’s like a vicious battle. Miniature coffee soldiers wage war against the tentacles of sleep pulling my eyelids ever downward. “I will be up front if you need help.” She smiles and walks off. I glare down at the eggs and bacon I have yet to cook, there is a lot. I grab my favorite spatula and crack open eggs. I hear the jingle of the front door and turn to see one of the regulars come in. I pop over to the toaster and toss in a few thick slices of fresh bread. I dash back over and release the bacon into a skillet. If I time everything just right I can have his order done in just over two minutes. I jump from one skillet to another flipping bacon, scrambling eggs and slathering butter on toast. My adrenalin is pumping. I always love to see how fast I can be without losing quality. Four minutes, far from my best time. I blame the lack of sleep making my actions sluggish. I sadly slide the finished product over the counter as the old man smiles at me and nods in my direction as thanks. I smile back and return to my work and my coffee. The diner is picking up now. People file in to eat breakfast while I struggle to keep up with all the orders. The eggs take a lot of attention the bacon and pancakes however I can let cook as I scramble eggs and butter toast. But if I leave the eggs for too long, they will dry out. It's tricky to get the timing just right. Fortunately, the years working here have made my moments almost automatic. Leaving me to wander my thoughts. I got this job right after my mom died, it’s a high pace work environment that doesn’t leave much time for thinking. Which is good because any time I get to thinking about my life before my mom’s death I get really depressed. I hadn’t realized until she was gone, but she had been the glue holding my family together. The hours pass and the diner eventually empties of customers. Leaving me time to do some necessary cleaning before the lunch crowd arrives. I scrub plates and silverware till they shine and set them on the drying rack. I wash the skillets while they are still hot and I have to lean back to avoid the scalding steam. They don’t take long to clean and I am only left to clean the counters, while Megan clears and wipes down the tables. “You are listening to the 89.9 holiday special. Coming up next we have a classic Christmas song, hope you enjoy.” Megan turns on the diners old FM radio. She smiles my way and starts sweeping the floors. I drain the rest of my coffee in a few gulps gaging at the lukewarm temperature. No sense in wasting caffeine. I frown, shrug and get back to work scrubbing the stovetop. After listening to a few new Christmas songs, they play one I recognized. It was a cover of Grandma got ran over by a reindeer; my dad’s favorite Christmas song. He used to sing it every time we got together with my mom’s side of the family for Christmas. It irritated the hell out of my grandma. She hated my dad for marrying my mom. My Grandma used to say he was the reason my mom died. I guess it was his way of getting back at her. Mom had been huge into Christmas before she died. We would set up the tree months in advance. We used to bake cookies, and other Christmas treats for the nursing home together. Dad would get on the roof of the house to set up lights every year the day after Black Friday Christmas shopping. Mom would always be scared of him falling. He never did though. I remember the last Christmas I had with her she had been so excited. Dad had gotten an extra-large Christmas bonus. I think she was more excited than both my dad and me combined. “Carol are you okay?” Megan asks and I suddenly become very aware of the cool dampness on my cheeks. I sniff back the snot from pouring down my nose and wipe my eyes with my sleeve. “Yah I’m fine, it’s just a hard time of the year for me. My mom loved Christmas so much, it was her favorite time of the year.” I say not looking her in the eyes. Instead, I scrub as hard as I can at the stovetop. “It a hard time for me too.” Megan sighs sets down the broom and wraps me in a hug. “You may not have heard but I lost my son to cancer when he was just six.” A sad smile plays on Megan’s face as she remembers her son. “He used to count the days till Christmas months in advance.” “Does it ever get easier?” I ask barely holding back tears. My voice was shaky and there was a lump in my thought that I couldn’t swallow. “No, I don’t believe it does. We will always have that hole in our hearts where our loved ones used to be. But we have to learn how to move on and fill our lives with meaning again. We can’t dwell on the past forever or we will be just as alive as the ones we put in the ground.” “Thank you, Megan. Is it okay if I take my fifteen now while we are slow? I need a moment.” “Go home for the rest of the day, get some sleep. I will call in Susan to fill in for you.” Megan smiles and hands me a napkin. “You will be okay Carol.” I grab my purse and put on my coat. My sadness is fading already only to be replaced with disappointment that I let myself have a meltdown at work. That had come out of nowhere. As I head out the door, I am hit with a freezing wind that nocks all my body warmth right out of me. I run to my car my feet crunch against the powdery snow. My car is frosted over and my door is stuck closed I have to muscle it open. I put my bag on the passenger seat then climb in. I slam the door closed behind me as shiver uncontrollably at the arctic temperature. I turn on my car and set the defrosters on full blast. My car is a red 1997 Chevy suburban that I got from my mom after she passed away. Every time I drive it, I think of her. She bought the car new and took great care of it. Dad used to call it the adopted child of the family. When the car had defrosted enough to see out the windows I pulled out of the parking and headed to my apartment. I used to live with my dad until recently. He wasn’t the same after mom died, he started out okay but as time went on, he deteriorated. He started drinking a lot and every time we were in the same room, he would comment on how much I looked like my mom. Eventually, he got violent, he never hit me but every now and again I would come home to a new hole in the walls. I don’t blame him It’s the constant drinking that’s doing it to him. I, in the end, decided to leave before he got worse. I don’t live far from my dad’s house but being in my own place, without the memories of the life I had has helped with my mental state. I rarely break down like I had only minutes ago. However sometimes a place or an item, even a song will remind me of her. After that it's only a matter of time before the tears come. ‘I should probably check up on my dad to see how he is doing.’ I make the necessary changes in course to get to his house. He had stopped answering his phone for a while now and the only way to check on him was to physically go see him. It’s not long before I arrive at his house. The home I grew up in used to be beautiful, now the lawn was nothing but dirt and patches of snow. Dead vines have started climbing up the side of the house. I noticed his car was gone, he had lost it long ago due to his drinking habit. That didn’t mean he was here though he had started taking long walks. Most of the time it was more of a drunken swagger over to the nearest bar, to drink away mom’s life insurance money. I park in the cracked driveway and make my way to the door. I don’t knock he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. I unlock the door with my house key and make my way inside. It's dark and there are countless holes in the walls, some look like gunshots. Shattered family photos lay on the floor; glass scattered everywhere. I move on towards the living room. Dad is in his lazy boy gazing at a shattered tv screen with eyes devoid of any joy. He takes a swig of Jack Daniels straight from the bottle. In his other hand, he holds a cigarette. “You started smoking now too.” I sigh leaning upon the doorway. “Carol? Why are you here?” He groans quietly. I have to say I am surprised he isn’t piss drunk. “I wanted to make sure you were still alive. Have you been eating?” I ask noting his bony form. “Unfortunately.” He mutters. Dad stairs into the bottle of whiskey like if it were the night sky. “Look at yourself dad. Is this how mom would want you to act? Do you think that she would want you to drink your life away? To destroy the house, she worked so hard to decorate?” I gesture to the sad scene around us. “Leave me alone Carol. You look too much like your mom, sound like her too. It's Painful to see you anymore. To remember her. It hurts more than the hunger.” I would be lying if I said his words didn’t hurt unfortunately, I understood where he came from. I had to look at my self in the mirror and see my mom every day. “Don’t leave me, dad, I can’t lose you too,” I say the lump returning to my throat. “Just leave Carol.” Dad closes his eyes, and I make my exit. My car is cold when I return to it however the engine is still warm therefore the heating works faster. I don’t want to think anymore so I turn on the radio to provide some escape from my mind. I pull out of the driveway and make my way home. As I drive, I flip through the stations trying to find a decent one. All there is a political talk show and old country music the rest is static. I settle for the country music I have never heard the song before and the words are hard to make out as the station keeps cutting in and out every few seconds. I go back to searching the static for a chance I missed something. “Hello?” I pause on one of the channels. That’s odd. “Can you hear me?” Asks the voice from the radio. The voice is feminine and sounds young. Probably some kid messing around. I listen closely and turn up the volume. Strange there isn’t any static. Like at all! The voice is completely crystal clear. “LOOK OUT!” Screams the kid. I look up just in time to see a deer dart out into the road. I swerve to the right to avoid the deer and suddenly a jolt. A split second later I am weightless. The front of my car tips down and I see blue. My ears are filled with the kid screaming. Or maybe that’s me. As I hit the water my head slams the steering wheel. I hear the sound of glass shattering as the windshield cracks, lines shooting across it like a spider web. As the car sinks the engine splutters and dies. Water pours in from the windshield and the doors. The cracks on the windshield grow larger by the second. My eyes flutter trying to keep conciseness but I am so tired and so cold. I mutter an apology to my dad as my eyes close and I slip from this world. Death is dark cold and Loud! The howling of wind assaults my ears as I shiver harder than ever before in my life. My ears sting, my eyes hurt in their sockets. I can’t even feel my hands. I open my eyes to see nothing but darkness. Well, almost any way the stars shine brightly in the night sky when they are not covered by large dark clouds. I am laying on my back soft snow cradles my head. I quickly close my eyes from the biting cold as my breathing slows. I have never been so cold in my life. As I fight the cold, I inevitably fall into the abyss of sleep.