Rebirth

By Mel Ushikubo

Lucy is a girl, an unmotivated, 20 something girl. Hardened by her past, bored by her present, she has no clue what her future holds and she doesn’t seem to care. Some would say typical these days; but underneath all that, a very unusual secret is sleeping.

How does a young, basically self-centered customer service rep at the local bank deal with evil corporations trying to kill her? What does she do when she discovers she has some very special latent skills? How does she react to her life going from nauseatingly normal to bizarre and filled with psychics running around saving the world? Other than freaking out and maybe finding her soul mate? How about sadistic revenge.

Maybe some people shouldn’t be reborn...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mel Ushikubo
• Release date: Jan 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466038462

Mel Ushikubo

Mel Ushikubo began writing at the age of 8, to pass the long days spent in bed with chronic childhood illnesses. Her characters went on fabulous adventures and always found a way to slay the dragons which she could not in real life. Now Mel is an energetic writer, musician and healer, actively looking for ways to make the world a better place for everyone. Her stories are filled with exciting challenges and the amazing ability for human beings to grow and find their power. Mel was born in Pembroke, Canada and now lives in Tokyo Japan with her husband and daughter.

Book preview

REBIRTH

Mel Ushikubo

Tokyo, Japan

Published by Mel Ushikubo at Smashwords

Copyright © 2011 by Mel Ushikubo

All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is also available in print at most online retailers.

Visit my website at http://www.mel-creates.com

I dedicate this book to two gentlemen: to Cabot for believing in my writing more than I did, and to Chris who read so many drafts without a single complaint.

Thank you.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Epilogue

About the Author

Connect with me online

Chapter 1

A white ray of sun found its way between the towering cement and glass buildings of downtown Vancouver. It shimmered down through the crowded green leaves of the tall trees which lined both sides of Hemlock Street. It found its way into the window of the corner suite of a three story brownstone apartment building. There, it landed upon the restlessly sleeping Lucy Montgomery.

Within a few minutes, perspiration formed on her pale brow and she stirred, automatically rolling over to the shaded side of the queen sized futon. She took her first semi-conscious breath. After realizing that it was Saturday, she debated going back to sleep before she was fully awake. Emitting a sigh, she realized it was already too late so she tucked her arm into the cool spot under the pillow and opened her eyes.

The vacant other side of the bed stare at her blankly. A part of her had gotten used to seeing his face in the morning, he stayed over so often. As with most men, he looked so different when he was asleep. He was the most movie-star attractive boyfriend she had ever had and she had enjoyed the opportunities to stare at his features without being questioned. Tears mingled at the back of her eyes.

Dammit! she swore at the empty room as she propped herself up onto her elbow. She rubbed away the last of the sleep. Whenever she started to get lonely or sad she would distract herself with busy work as she had always done.

This lazy Saturday was for laundry. She pulled on the grubby grey sweat pants and ripped black tee-shirt from the bottom of the closet, tied her long messy blond mane back with a pink scrunchy she’d had since the eighties. It was one of the last things her father’s money had paid for while she still lived with him. She wasn’t sure why she refused to chuck it in the garbage except for the fact that it hadn’t lost its elasticity and still worked fine.

There were two loads of wash this week. She tried to forget the last miserable weekend she had spent pining on the couch, childishly refusing to do her own chores. She’d let herself be depressed for once and didn’t plan to ever do it again. Too many old memories were creeping up on her while her guard was down.

There was no one else to do her wash for her so it sat in the corner of her living room, which was also her bedroom, overflowing the oval plastic basket until she dealt with it. She mused that she had been doing laundry since she was eleven years old. She had taken over doing her own and her father’s laundry from the time she could reach the buttons of the old Kenmore coin machine sitting in the basement of the apartment building she had shared with him. His pile usually consisted of ratty boxer shorts and the odd tee shirt. Once a month she sneaked into his room to grab his bathrobe, while he made his regular grocery trip to stock up the house with Kraft dinner. She sighed, quickly pushing the memory away again.

After she sorted the blouses, slacks and dainties into three loads of similar colours she loaded them down to the first floor of the building. An hour and fifteen minutes later and five dollars in quarters lighter she climbed the three flights of stairs from the basement with a heaping basket of unfolded hot clothes. Instantly, she was sweating.

Once back inside her own apartment, she turned the small fan sitting on the kitchen ledge around to face the living room and shifted the square floor fan towards the window. Even in October, her room was hot when the sun was shining in full blast. She turned on the TV, which was already on Muchmusic, and flopped on her futon preparing to carefully fold her work clothes for the week. It was time to put away the spaghetti strapped camisoles in exchange for blouses with sleeves. Soon she could even dig out some of her sweaters. She hadn’t seen them in quite a while.

With colour-and-style, she coordinated an outfit for each day of the week trying to avoid combinations she’d worn recently. For each set, she would carefully place the outfit together on a hanger with socks, underwear and bra wrapped around the neck so she would merely have to pull it out of the closet in the morning and have everything ready. The few items she owned that were not for work, like her favourite black mini-skirt, she folded carefully into stacks that she planned to put in the solitary pine dresser sitting against the wall.

As her arms got tired, she paused to flick channels. They were talking endlessly on Muchmusic and not playing any of her favourite videos. She surfed around the thirty channels available to her until something remotely interesting could be found. Martha Stewart caught her eye with some new technique for making curtains.

Lucy had never made curtains in her life. She was an avid supporter of IKEA. Her apartment was laid out in plain white pressboard or bare pine furniture. The few accessories she did have had the simple clean lines of Swedish style. The main area, which she considered her dining room, was centred with a square glass top table and four pine chairs. It had taken her six weeks to accumulate the entire set. It sat out in the middle of nowhere and she planned to put up some shelves behind it so it didn’t seem like such an island. Not that she really cared: she rarely sat there to eat. Her kitchen was more of a small cove cut into the wall and from the top of the counter, it was open to the rest of the space. She was no Martha Stewart there either.

The cosiest side of her room, with the corner windows, was her bedroom living room. When the futon was folded into a couch she could pull a kidney shaped coffee table in front of it that perfectly matched her two side tables. That was rare too. She often neglected to create a couch from her futon. Instead she would lie full out on her belly with a pillow under her chin staring at the thirteen inch tube across the way.

For many years, her decor had been sparse, consisting of milk crates and a second hand couch with a broken back slouching in the middle of the room. She’d bought herself the futon so she could invite the odd guy over and suddenly her friends were making all kinds of annoying suggestions. She had grown tired of their nagging and with each pay check she had bought another piece from the showroom display at the IKEA in Richmond. After she had added some tab curtains, a few nick-knacks on the ledge of her kitchen counter, some quirky lamps and a weirdo throw rug in the middle of the hardwood floor, she was surprised that it pleased her as much as it did them. The last phase had been the dining room set. Now, she looked at it again and wondered what the hell she was thinking.

Late in the afternoon, she squeezed out her window onto the white painted metal fire escape running along the side of the building. She clutched a cigarette from her half spent pack of Players Light in her hand and crouched down against the brick wall breathing hard. The height terrified her, but she’d agreed not to smoke inside the apartment. It was a little moment of pleasure and panic and still she couldn’t convince herself to quit. Shakily she reached for her lighter which sat upon the window sill with her ‘borrowed’ glass ashtray.

She hated being a smoker, but each one felt like a relief. Something about it took her away from everything for a moment. It was also a decision that she made about her body and her image. How could she give that up when it was the one thing that no one could take away from her?

Jeff, who’d never smoked a day in his life, had faked coughing fits often.

Once again she was thinking of him. She indulged for a moment. He’d been a part of her life for six intense weeks during the summer. There had been nights where she never wanted to stop being with him, but she’d forced herself to eject those memories along with the hard part. Somehow, when fall had arrived and it was time to get back to the rest of the year, he just didn’t fit into the picture she’d painted of the next part of her life. After she’d removed him with a swift unforgiving splash of turpentine, life went on very slowly. There were still times when she was stuck without a distraction that she had mixed feelings. Her one night stand had turned into so much more, and twice a day she regretted that she let it get so far.

The very first night she spotted Jeff, playing his guitar up on the stage at the bar, she fell in love like only a groupie can. After staring at him intently all night, watching the way he held his red guitar and the way his dark eyes sometimes scanned the crowd and other times seemed lost in his own music, she was delighted when he came over to say hello. Only hours later, they were plunging head on into an ecstatic rum-induced night of passion.

At 7:00 am the next day, she’d been jolted awake by a strange feeling. Instantly, she knew that she’d had a bad dream, but she had no recollection of the details. With the size of her hangover, she shouldn’t have woken for another four hours and the room was rotating slower than usual. She hadn’t had a nightmare in ages and she quickly shrugged off her nerves as she carefully crawled off the bed, dressed and crept out the door. It was always easier to avoid the morning after anyway.

She had scored and he was so good that she felt sad that she probably wouldn’t see him again. It wasn’t so easy this time though. Diatribe, his band was new to the scene and they planned to stick around. He tracked her down and wanted to see her. She’d foolishly left her actual phone number written on his hand in blue pen. Usually that would rub off long before a guy could transfer it to a scrap of paper, especially after a night of sweating, but not him.

For a week solid she turned him down and yet everyday he showed up at the Scotia Bank where she worked or called her at home to demand she go out for a drink with him. He’d been in her face everyday, but she didn’t include this time in her relationship count of six weeks. Things needed to be on her terms.

Out of pure frustration and possibly the chance of a repeat performance of their original fling, she gave in. Over the next few weeks she learned that he was a Xerox repairman by day and a feisty guitarist by night. He sometimes wore Xerox tee-shirts out on dates and always took out all eight earrings when he went to work each morning, but would never be caught dead without a cup full of gel in his short jet black hair to make it stand straight up.

From that day forward he came by her apartment around six for dinner. Sometimes he brought groceries and cooked, other times she cooked, but most of the time they sauntered down to Davie St. and stopped at whichever restaurant pleased them or whichever one they could afford. Afterwards, they would often go back to her place. This was something different. Often, he just wanted to hang around watching TV or movies. There were times when she became completely paranoid. She couldn’t understand what he wanted from her. Most of those minutes she stayed quiet until it passed.

Of course every night they gave the futon a work out and then slept hard unless he had to work early the next day. She asked him to go home on those nights so he wouldn’t wake her up two hours early for her own shifts or on her precious days off. On the odd occasion when he tried to renege on the deal, he gave up easily. She was glad that he knew when she was serious.

There was another reason she wanted to be alone some nights. The dreams had kept on her. Every single morning she woke with an every increasingly sick feeling of dread. After a few nights in a row, she would grow tired of covering up her queasiness in the morning. She wanted to lay in her bed, trying not to cry, willing the apparitions away. She was no stranger to chronic sleep disturbances.

For three years she’d battled night terrors. Finally at sixteen she’d outright refused to allow such a childish thing to continue. With the aid of a stolen prescription pad her boyfriend had swiped, she started knocking herself out at night. It had taken her quite a while in the library to figure out what to request from the Walgreen’s and a few more good scares to work up the guts to try to pass off the writing. After a few months of dead-to-the-world-sleep, the dreams had stopped and hadn’t returned in ten years.

These nightmares weren’t the same, but they were just as frightening. They weren’t about Jeff at all. He was always very sweet to her. She was getting a bit weary with a lack of sleep and her temper was getting shorter, so she tried to keep an even keel when he was around as the weeks passed. It was getting harder.

Then school was back in session and the students were busy pulling out wads of their student loans spending it on anything they could remotely justify as being required for their education. Lucy struggled to stop her eyes from rolling. There was no way she would pay that much money for a piece of paper that might not even get you employment. She had a paying job already and not a cent of debt to her name. Every penny that came into her pocket was hers, except for her rent. Sometimes she wondered if she should bother saving up a down payment on a home. What would she do with a whole place? She wondered if Jeff wanted to play house with her.

A short time later, she’d dumped him. She remembered every detail of the night leading up to it.

They had spent a Saturday checking out a friend’s new band and getting seriously drunk. After two am they returned to her place and climbed under the duvet. Lucy laid her hand across his bare chest and kissed his neck. Shifting slightly he brought her mouth to his and kissed her lightly. Noticing that he wasn’t being his usual frisky self she pulled away.

Sorry. he said. I’m really shagged. I was up too damn early for a Saturday doing an emergency call on that printer at that print shop in North Van...

Hey, no problem. she replied and started to roll away.

He grabbed her and held her closely for a few long minutes. He ran his finger across her forehead absently and whispered You have the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen, She looked up at him and smiled. I love you, you know.

Lucy’s smile faltered briefly in terror and when she posted it back up, it felt wrong on her face an. What kind of a man threw those words at you from nowhere? Right away she knew that he was waiting for her to reply in kind. How dare he force her into this situation! Suddenly feigning sleepiness, she rolled over. She lay on her side keeping her back to him. She prayed he wouldn’t say another word. Holding her breath, she waited for him to do something, but he merely rolled over onto his back, tucked his arms under his head and remained silent. Before Lucy was finished being grumpy, she fell asleep.

***

In the pitch darkness of her dream, she could hear faint voices fading in and out as if they were speaking beyond a heavy door which was opening and closing in the distance. Without a single speck of visual input she felt the urge to wave her arms around, but kept them at her sides instead. Was she in a dark room? She felt sure that she was standing, but couldn’t quite tell due to the sensation that her feet were not actually touching ground or floor. Gravity seemed to have abandoned her.

Her heart sank as she realized that she was in the same dream again. Only when she was asleep could she remember all the dreams that had come before. It was agonizing to go through it again and again. One time she could have endured, but by now she was desperate to stop the events that played out for her repeatedly. Each conversation was improvised and slightly different. It was not a photocopy.

As always, she recognized one of the players as the door opened and finally let her listen in on the conversation. It was a man’s voice. He didn’t sound old. She imagined him to be at least her age or older, but definitely not over forty. He was always suffering horribly and she couldn’t do anything about it. She had no idea who he was; he wasn’t someone from her waking life. Why would she dream of the same strange man?

The dream didn’t threaten her directly. Night after night she remained suspended in the lonely darkness to hear his torture. It was the only way she could describe it. She didn’t know if it was really what it would sound like when people were actually tortured, but it sounded awful enough. Without knowing him or experiencing any pain herself she just wanted it all to stop, but she couldn’t affect the outcome. Each scenario was different, but equally hard to stand. The second familiar voice of another man came into focus. This one she loathed.

You want to kill me don’t you? he asked.

Oh yes. The other said in the back of his throat. This was the victim of torment speaking.

And how would you kill me? the other questioned with a strangely playful tone. He used it often in her nightmare and it was never a good sign.

I, I...No! Why’re you doing this to me? her mystery man whined pathetically. Lucy wanted to know the same thing. There was a moment of silence and then he shrieked in agony. Her brain instructed her hands to cover her ears, but her arms disobeyed and remained at her sides. Never in her life had she heard a grown man screaming like that and she never wanted to hear it again. What did he do to deserve it? Why in the world was she submitting herself to such a bizarre vision?

Tell me where all your little friends are hiding? the tormentor demanded.

I will! he replied panting. He yelled again and then shouted I WILL!

Stop it! Lucy screamed at the top of her lungs. Just…

Suddenly she was sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat and Jeff was sitting up next to her with a very concerned look on his face and his hand on her shoulder.

You’re just dreaming Lucy. He said. You’re safe now.

Lucy snorted and wiped the sweat from her brow. Daylight was pouring into her windows. It was Sunday morning.

What the hell do you dream about? He asked casually giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. This is like the tenth time you’ve woken up screaming.

Lucy brushed his hand away. Is it? She pulled the strap of her dishevelled nightie up and crawled off the edge of the bed.

Yeah. He said insistently. Maybe we should talk about this. I mean it’s not exactly normal. He paused for a moment. Lucy turned back to look at him with a bad taste in her mouth. He was about to tread on shaky ground and she knew it. Did something happen to you?

Like what? Lucy asked sharply even though she knew exactly what he was suggesting. Her anger flared. He’d never know. As if she would tell him?

C’mon Lucy. You know what I’m talking about.

Lucy remained silently contemplating. What? Like my father slit his own throat when I was thirteen and I found his body? Is that what you mean? Boo hoo, poor orphan Lucy. What a terrible trauma for such a young child. Well, I didn’t care about that bastard, I was glad he got out of my way and besides, the dreams have nothing to do with that.

Look, it was just some stupid dream. She explained instead, with a good dose of venom in her voice. There’s a lot of pressure at work and I haven’t been getting enough sleep with you around.

It’s not me that’s keeping you up Lucy. He replied as he worked his way to the edge of the bed with his back to her. As he started to pull his jeans on he questioned her. What are the dreams about then?

I don’t remember. Lucy replied as she stood in the middle of the room with her hand on her hip. It was half a lie. Even now the details of the dream were growing dark again; one saving grace.

Like I buy that. He said.

Startled, Lucy threw her hands down. Well, I don’t care if you buy it or not. Just drop it alright?

You can tell me Lucy. He said as he stood to zip his pants. He turned and approached. I really care about you and I want to know what’s bothering you.

It looked as if he planned to embrace her so she took a step backward. For crying out loud Jeff, I said I didn’t want to talk about it. She continued over to the bathroom. So shut up about it. She snapped as she slipped inside and slammed the door behind her.

***

Still in a funk by the time they were heading down to the Davie street café for Sunday brunch, she replied to his questions in short monotone sentences. Soon they would be surrounded by their group of friends all participating in the same hung-over ritual. There was no sign of any of them yet as it was only 9:30, so she chose a table against the wall outside on the patio. The sun was still hitting that spot and she planned to soak it into her bones.

As they sat down she left her sunglasses on and leaned back in her chair.

Musta been a hectic night on the town, not even Jerry’s here yet. Jeff said trying to keep their one sided conversation up. As usual he wiped water rings from the table with a spare paper napkin from the metal dispenser instead of waiting for the server to come by with a proper cloth.

That’s fine actually. Lucy replied. It gives us a chance to talk.

She’d made up her mind. It was all wrong. He was too clingy, wanted too much of her. He’d put the ‘L’ word on the table and they both understood the ramifications. The scale had tipped and it was time for her to bring balance back into the situation. She knew it wasn’t the balance he was hoping for.

Jeff raised his eyebrows and sat back in his seat. Okay, I’m not blind. What’s up?

She paused, folded her hands in her lap then sighed. In return Jeff folded his arms across his chest. Their eyes met firmly.

I really like you and we’ve had a lot of fun... she started then stopped. Suddenly the words sounded childish coming out her mouth.

Holy shit Lucy, am I hearing a ‘but’ here? Jeff asked sitting forward. What’s going on?

Jeff… she sighed again. Brushing him off had become nearly impossible. She’d waited a few weeks too many, but it had been so pleasant that she had wanted to drag it out as long as possible. I don’t think we’re on the same track.

He stared in disbelief as she continued.

I have needs yes, physical needs like everyone else, but it doesn’t seem to be working out for you. I think you’re interested in something I’m not gonna give. You keep hanging around, but I can’t change the way I feel.

What? I don’t want to do it one night and...God! You heard what I said last night. It’s true Lucy; I’m in love with you.

Her face remained unchanged, her stare solid and blank. He’d already played that card and it was meaningless by now. The great easy sex would be missed.

She set her jaw. I’m not in love with you. I just don’t feel that way. Don’t you see? We don’t need all that pressure. We can satisfy each other, we can have a great time. Why do you want to complicate things?

Complicate things?

Oh, get over it. You used me too you know. she said finally averting her eyes to the table. Total bull shit had escaped her and all she could do was stand by it.

His brow was intensely creased. Used...?

I knew this was going to happen. She said exasperated. That’s why I didn’t want to see you after that first night. Why couldn’t you leave it alone?

She got up from her seat. Jeff reached out and grabbed her hand.

How can you do this? You’re trying to tell me that it was all about sex? That’s crazy!

Let go. She growled. Was he going to be like so many of the others? Would he try to dominate her? He cringed and slowly released his grip. Her heart said ‘I told you so’ and she told it to get bent.

God Lucy! You just dropped a bomb on me. Where the hell did this come from?

She turned to look around making sure no one was staring at their performance. She kept her voice low. I was planning on ending it anyways. I was just waiting for the right moment. After last night I figured it would be cruel to let you get in any further. She slung her purse off the chair and onto her shoulder.

Wait! he shouted getting to his feet. He stood directly in front of her and curved his right hand around her upper arm gently. Everything was going great Lucy, we really have something here you and I. Why’re you doing this?

Jeff, I thought you understood. She said softly. I thought...then last night...well, I thought wrong. You didn’t understand and it isn’t fair to you.

Fair? FAIR? Oh my God... he said frustrated. …this is about this morning. I can’t believe you. We have our first little tiff and you’re bailing?

Don’t go telling yourself that excuse. It isn’t going to work. I don’t love you. I hoped we could still be friends, but I doubt it. Goodbye Jeff. She said quickly shrugging his hand off. As she walked away she didn’t dare look back. The only thing she felt bad about was the fact that she noticed three of their friends on the opposite side of the street heading towards breakfast. They were probably about to meet up with a very mad Jeff. What would he tell them?

***

The following week he called her a dozen times a day. He knew better than to try to reach her at work, but he left her a few messages at home to hear when she returned. The phone was sometimes ringing when she unlocked her door. A few days in, she stopped dashing to the caller id. It was always him.

At first, whenever she spotted his number on the caller id she let it ring through to the answering machine, but after listening to a message that made her cry, she started to pick up the phone and immediately hang it up again without putting it to her ear. It must have pissed Jeff off because later that same night, he was buzzing her apartment from downstairs.

Hello? Lucy said into the wall telecom.

It’s me. He said.

Go away Jeff, I don’t want to see you.

Just let me talk to you.

Lucy paused. Listen Jeff, I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. No matter how often you come around here, I’m not going to change my mind. I still don’t feel that way about you and if you keep this up I’m going to call the cops and accuse you of stalking.

You wouldn’t. he said over the crackling intercom.

Lucy let the button go and stared at the beige and brown plastic box for a moment, waiting, but he didn’t ring up again.

From that point on he had left her alone.

Even weeks later she was relieved, but as she sat outside on her fire escape smoking she felt a slight tug in her stomach that suggested somehow she was disappointed that he had given up.

I can’t believe that was four weeks ago. She said aloud to herself. A large ash fell from her cigarette onto her lap. She had to stop rewinding her memories. They were only keeping her focus away from the road ahead. Then again, she didn’t really know where she was going. Working at the bank was great, but did she really plan to be there until she croaked? Hardly. For now, it was the best situation. Besides that, the only way she was going to figure out her future was alone. Managing someone else’s dreams too was extra complicated. She brushed the cold ash off her pants. The smoke was spent so she butted it out and clambered back inside.

The phone was ringing.

Hello? She said diving onto the bed with the black cordless phone to her ear.

That’s enough wallowing. The woman on the other end of the line said.

Lucy was confused. Huh?

I said that’s enough wallowing.

Sarah? she asked tentatively.

Yeah, it’s me and you’re coming out tonight. She said in her pushy fashion. As one of Lucy’s friends from the old days, she was one of the only people who could run rough shod over her. Sometimes it annoyed her and sometimes it amused her, but she always let it go. Sarah had practically saved her life a long time ago.

They had hooked up in the last few years Lucy spent in Seattle. They were both living on the edge, but Sarah had always been street smarter. Her radar was better than NATO. Their friendship sprouted from the fact that they were both originally from Vancouver.

As soon as Lucy realized that she didn’t need foster jailers any more, she slipped south over the border. Cops wouldn’t be looking for her there. Some nights, she cursed the system for not letting her slip through the cracks. Many of the other jerks sitting on the sidewalk really needed someone to hold their hand while she’d been looking after herself for as long as she could remember. She never let herself need anyone. Dippy counsellors didn’t let you play that way though.

Sarah had convinced her to return to Vancouver. Now that she was eighteen, she could use the system the way she wanted to, she could go back to the place she grew up, and she could do what she wanted without them telling her what to do anymore. She was a citizen and could reap the benefits. The logic made sense to Lucy and they both crossed back into Canada. That was eight years ago and it had been a good decision.

I don’t feel like going out tonight. Lucy replied to her friend.

It’s not like I’m asking you Lucy, I’m tellin’. You’re comin’ out!

You’re not the boss of me, bitch! Lucy said.

Sarah burst into her trade-mark shrill laughter. That’s the girl I know and love. Seriously, we’re meeting at the Jupiter. You’ve been hiding out for weeks. We miss you sweetie. It’s a super shitty thing that it didn’t work out between you and Jeff, but that’s no excuse to go neglecting your friends.

Yeah, yeah. Lucy rolled over onto her back. Sarah was a great drama queen when she wanted to be. Who’s gonna be there?

Oh, girls only I assure you, Girl Guides’ promise.

She could picture Sarah holding up her two fingers and imagined that instead of holding them together, Sarah would be giving the peace sign instead. There’d been no Brownies or Girl Guides in either of their childhoods.

After finally agreeing to meet her friends, Lucy hung up the phone. The destination was only a couple of blocks from her house and if she wasn’t having a good time she could leave.

A few minutes later she debated whether she would actually go or stand them up. It wasn’t a common practice amongst their group. Most of the inner circle had also been street kids who made good. Some of the old group were lost to them. Drugs took the most. In those days, Lucy had preferred to spend her change on cigarettes and hair dye.

The people that lasted, the ones you chose to bond with out there, had to be dependable. You’re life was sometimes in their hands. Could she ditch out on them? She shook her head. All she had in her life, other than work, was her nights on the town. What was she making all that money for? Was one relationship going to make her forget what it was like to be out there, single and free?

No. She’d given up Jeff; she’d decided that she didn’t want to be tied down no matter how promising it was looking. It wouldn’t feel as good as never having to compromise. She was in charge of her life and it made no sense to sit staring at her laundry now. Taking a deep breath she decided she would put the stacks and hangers of clothes away tomorrow. She slipped her black mini-skirt out of the pile and dashed into the bathroom to doll herself up.

Just after sunset, she’d spent hours doing her hair so that it had just the right amount of natural looking waves to go with her natural blond colour. She was ultra proud that she didn’t need to dye it blond. She was one hundred percent the real thing and she never missed a chance to announce it. In her youth she had died it black. She wouldn’t do that ever again.

The strands were cascading nearly to her waist at the back and she adored them. It had taken her a long time to grow the thick tresses so long. It seemed to creep along at her shoulders for eons. Suddenly, it was just where she wanted it.

Adding on another hour, she had her party make-up on and her top changed three more times before she finally left her building and started to walk to the Jupiter with a swing to her hips and a, barely-there, clever little smile on her face.

The hunt would feel good. She wondered if she would score and then gave herself a shake. She’d barely escaped her last tryst. It was too risky she might find another clinger. Her high heel caught in a raised bit of cement on the side walk and she missed a step. She quickly regained her glide and glanced around making sure there were no spectators.

As she waited for the light at Spruce and Davie, she took the opportunity to start a cigarette. The government had taken away her right to drink and smoke at the same time so she planned to stock up her nicotine. Otherwise she would get inside and want one right away. As one of the only puffers left, she’d be standing on the balcony by herself or with some strangers.

As she bent her head down, towards her cupped hands, someone suddenly stood in front of her. She could see his shiny black shoes only inches from her feet. Suddenly, as she looked up, his clammy hands reached out and gripped her, squeezing the soft tissue of her bare arms.

Who the he... She stopped. The tall man in the black suit continued to clutch her tightly. His strange lifeless face was pale and made no particular expression. A sickening feeling rushed into her stomach. Her eyes remained fixed on his, but he wasn’t looking at her. His dull black eyes stared straight ahead just above her. Lucy tried to turn so she could see what he was looking at, but couldn’t escape his hold. She didn’t know him. He didn’t say anything. It didn’t appear that he planned to move at all. Was he waiting for something? Panic struck. She struggled loose and then staggered backwards two steps.

Slowly, his hands dropped to his sides. He took a half step sideways and swivelled to the right. Lucy noticed that his head moved in unison with his shoulders as if he didn’t have a neck. He marched up the sidewalk heading in the direction that she had come from. Stunned, Lucy watched until he was half a block away and tried weakly to yell Asshole! which came out as barely a whisper. Her shoulders slumped and she returned to lighting her cigarette which had surprisingly survived the ordeal.

Lucy walked the last block to the Jupiter with the hairs on her neck standing at attention. Why in the hell had some creepy guy stopped her in the street? The imprint of his cold hands was still on her and she wished that she’d worn a jacket or a sweater. She didn’t even want to try to rub away the sensation with her hands. It couldn’t be touched.

Her hand shook slightly whenever she raised the cigarette to her lips. All the time she glanced around for that dark suit, but she only spotted party goers, residents and street beggars. Perhaps he was a blind man and he thought she was someone else. Why hadn’t he said anything? Then there was the nausea she’d felt. It wasn’t purely revulsion, although she’d felt plenty of that, it was more the sensation you get in one of those super fast elevators.

None of it made any sense.

She paused at the base of the long set of stairs leading up to the entrance of the Jupiter. She needed to finish the last of her smoke and she wanted to kick the jitters before she headed into the crowd, but she didn’t linger long.

At the top of the stairs she pushed the door open and entered the bar. A few hours later there would be a line up, but for now the room was just full. She scooted past the hostess and navigated her way through the many people and around the low plush armchairs that populated the main area. She spotted Sarah with her dark complexion and her million long braids sitting in a dark purple arm chair against the windows. She was leaning over a short round table to talk to the woman across from her.

The house music was playing louder than Lucy remembered, but it was a particularly thrashy song that was playing. She glanced over at the stage set up at the other end of the room. Instruments lay waiting there so she assumed there was a band playing later. She let her eyes sweep the remaining crowd looking for any familiar faces, but the only other person she recognized was the attractive bartender she’d previously considered chasing. She thought his name was Clark or Jack or something. He had the sexiest set of pipes.

She couldn’t see into the far corners of the main room or see through the red velvet curtains to the patio outside. Although she wasn’t sure what she was so nervous about; it was unlikely that her encounter had been more than chance. There would be no way that the man knew she was coming to this place. On top of that, he’d trudged off in the opposite direction.

She was aware of the side room around the corner as well. The room added five or six more places for groups to sit with the furniture arranged like flowers with fat chairs for petals. She decided she wasn’t so paranoid that she would have to walk over there to look and see if there was anyone she needed to avoid. A waitress sailed by her with a tray held perilously high over the crowd loaded with appetizers and drinks.

She made her way over to her friend’s table and plopped down into the empty easy chair next to Sarah. Instantly, Sarah launched herself at Lucy and hugged her enthusiastically. Lucy didn’t care for the habit, but she gave a pat back. Sarah quickly introduced Lucy to the girl with whom she was sitting, a college classmate she had ran into, and seconds later, the girl got up to return to her own friends.

After Lucy’s drink had been ordered and the happy reunion catch up talk completed, she described the weird incident in the street to Sarah.

Hmm. Freak. Sounds real creepy Luce. Sarah commented. Make sure someone walks you home tonight, eh? She stopped and stared Lucy directly in the face until Lucy nodded. She grinned and lifted her pint glass to her lips then set it down empty. Anyway, you’re back! Forget that shit. We’re going to have a fabulous time, right? She added picking up one of the cluster of shooters on the table, raising it up in the air in front of her.

Right! Lucy said pretending to clink her beer to the tiny shot glass.

When Sarah rushed off impatiently to get the next round, Lucy sat back into the funky blue velvet easy chair frowning.

Lost in thought, she suddenly realized that someone was leaning over the back of her seat. With a great effort, she remained calm on the outside.

Hey there, Ice Queen. A familiar voice said.

Screw you, Jerry. Lucy replied without bothering to look at him. She let the air out of her lungs and reached for her glass then realized that it was empty. She sat back pouting.

Oh ho! The Ice Queen is cranky. Please don’t crush me. He begged playfully as he came around and sat beside her in Sarah’s spot. He was grinning like a banshee, and Lucy could see that there was a fake diamond stud sticking to his left front tooth. She rolled her eyes. He had the freckles and complexion of a redhead, except his hair was currently as white as pillow stuffing. The last time she’d seen him, it was purple like the chair he was lounging in.

Nice frigging hair, Jerry and you’re calling me the Ice Queen? You look like you were scared to death or something. What’d you do? Look in the mirror?

Ha. Ha. You’re soooo hilarious.

Sarah returned. This thing bothering you Luce? she asked as she leaned forward lifting the beers above Jerry’s head threateningly.

Nah. Lucy waved her hand dismissively. The drinks were set on the table and Sarah took the seat on the other side of Lucy which was now empty.

Girls only eh? Lucy scowled at her.

You can’t call it a man. Sarah replied with a smile. Jerry was the eternal guy friend. The kind you never considered dating and would one day end up with some woman you’d never met and who you would never meet. She’d be the type that didn’t mix with his current friends and he’d be whisked away to a life of servitude under a plain-Jane who actually wanted to have sex with him once in a while.

So Sarah, you finally coaxed the Ice Queen out, eh? Jerry asked leaning very close to Lucy. Without hesitation she shoved him away.

You call me that again Jerry and I’ll...

Okay, okay. Whatever. It was pretty cold though, what you did to Jeff. I mean, geesh, guys do that shit all the time, but you? Not even a bonafide psychic could have seen that coming. What the hell happened? I thought you too where so cool together.

Yeah well, let’s not talk about it okay.

If it’s only sex you want master... He said pretending to slobber and paw at her ...than Igor is your man. Yes master, yesss. He hissed.

You’re such a dork. Lucy said shoving him again.

She realized that she was smiling. Some semblance of happiness had crept up on her, so she laughed and her friends laughed with her.

As the night wore on she started to move around less and less. Far too many beers had been handed to her and somehow, they eventually turned up empty. Other people from the gang came and went and she wormed her way out of explaining about Jeff each time. She entered and faded from a dozen conversations, relieved that there was no sign of him, but she also couldn’t stop thinking about the weirdo in the black suit. She could still see his slack face and it made her arms cold. She shivered and finally rubbed them briskly with both hands.

The sound system suddenly fell silent. Lucy was too preoccupied to notice the band had taken the stage, but a few bars into the first song, she whipped her head around.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Lucy said. The players consisted of three of the five band members of Diatribe, Jeff’s band. He was standing front and center playing a slow melody on his guitar, the sunset red Stratocaster he treated like kin. How could she have not recognized it sitting up there screaming ‘Jeff’s here! Jeff’s here!’

The drummer Garry, and Joe the bassist, were quietly backing him up. He stepped up to the mike and started to sing one of the band’s few love songs.

Lucy turned to Sarah who was also looking toward the stage.

I can’t believe it. Sarah said. She suddenly glanced at Lucy who was watching her intently. I had no idea, Luce. Really! It’s a total coincidence.

Yeah fucking right! Lucy said starting to get out of her chair. Sarah put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder and pulled her back down.

Hold up. She said. I’m serious. I’m not messing with you. You gonna let him chase you away? What you gonna do? Avoid him forever?

Maybe. Lucy replied.

C’mon. Sarah said then laughed. You broke up with him for Christ’s sake.

Lucy settled back into her chair pouting. God, I’m drunk, she thought. Another sound came to her ears suddenly. At first she ignored it, but as it started drowning out the noise of the bar she recognized it as someone gasping for air. The disembodied harsh breathing echoed into her ears. Glancing around she could see Sarah hitting on some new guy who had just joined the table and Jerry was bothering her other friend, Jane who was laughing about something. No one else nearby seemed to notice the strange sound.

God, I’m really drunk, she thought putting her hand to her forehead. Even the melody of the band was fading. A dizzy spell washed over her and she struggled to stand. Sarah looked up from her prey and started talking. She could clearly see that Sarah’s lips were moving, she was asking her something, but no words made it to Lucy’s ears.

Bathroom. Lucy slurred and when Sarah rose to join her, she waved her back down.

Lucy turned towards the bathroom and stumbled to the end of the bar with a hand to her damp forehead. The world had grown silent to her except for the sound of her own thudding heart beat and the rapid gasping of an unseen person. She caught glimpses of faces frowning at her as she pushed through the mute crowds standing around the bar waiting to order drinks. The hallway leading to the washrooms was still a few feet and two social rings of people away. Suddenly, the breathing changed to a sudden inhale and then a terrifying scream. An ache like none she had ever felt before surrounded her. She stopped in her tracks and clamped her hands over her ears, but she could still hear it. It was his voice, the one from the nightmares, and he was in great pain.

Sarah suddenly appeared at her side.

What’s happening Lucy? she demanded as she pried Lucy’s hands down from her head.

Who are you? Lucy shouted to the ceiling. Abruptly the screaming ended. The house music was playing again and the voices and general buzz of the bar seamlessly came up. Several patrons nearby were staring at her.

What are you doing? Sarah asked.

Who is he? Lucy demanded. Why is he in so much pain?

Sarah didn’t realize that Lucy was talking to herself. She peered into the crowd not seeing anything at first and then she bunched up her forehead. You don’t mean him do you?

Lucy followed the gaze of her friend and spotted Jeff standing just beyond arms reach between her and the bathroom. He was staring at her.

No, I mean... But when she tried to find a way to explain it, she was stumped. She’d never told Sarah about the nightmares she was having lately because Sarah knew about the old nightmares and would be bugging her to go see her doctor about it or something stupid like that. Anyway, how would she explain that she’d just had a waking dream? She hardly believed it herself.

Let’s go to the Ladies okay. You’re way fucked up. Sarah said taking Lucy by the elbow to lead her through the crowd. When they tried to sidestep Jeff, he moved in front of them.

Not a good time now, Jeff. Sarah said, but he stood his ground. Aren’t you supposed to be playing right now?

I decided to take a break since I saw Lucy standing here.

You just started the set…

It’s okay Sarah. Lucy said. Go back to the table. I’ll be fine.

Her friend stared her in the face suspiciously for a second. Then, she turned her glower on Jeff. After another glance at Lucy, she slowly turned and left.

Lucy. He said over the background noise.

Silently, she raised her eyes to face him directly for the first time since she had broken his heart. Meeting his intense gaze she steadied her stance. Jeff.

How could you be so cruel to me? he blurted in her face.

Wha...?

You won’t even talk to me. You won’t see me. What the hell did I do to make you hate me?

Lucy stared wide-eyed. I don’t hate you. she gasped.

Bullshit. he spat. Something happened. I can’t fathom what, but I sure as hell don’t believe someone can turn on a dime like that just because someone says ‘I love you’. Tell me Lucy. Tell me! Does it have something to do with those nightmares you refuse to talk about? he said taking a hold of her shoulders.

Get off! she yelled, shocked at being held in such a similar unpleasant way again. That’s none of your business.

Several people back at her table rose to their feet. Jeff’s control returned and he released her.

Get a grip, Jeff. Lucy continued Geesh, it’s been a month. I don’t need you in my life, get it? Just leave me alone. She brushed past him.

You’re one fucked up bitch. he said between his teeth.

Yeah, fuck you too. She said hurrying to the dark corridor next to the bar that led to the washrooms. She prayed there wouldn’t be a line up. There wasn’t.

Once she entered and latched the door to the last stall, she put both hands up against the side wall and hung her head. Unwelcome tears started gushing out her eyes. She could hardly breathe. The incident with Jeff was upsetting. Perhaps she could have handled it better if she hadn’t just gone through a devastating hallucination.

What if someone had slipped her some acid? It would explain the waking dream. She studied her self for a moment attempting to judge whether she was messed up or just drunk. None of the other sensations she’d experienced before were telling her that she was drugged. All signs, including the whirlpool starting in her stomach, pointed to too much beer. For once, she wished she’d shown better judgement with her alcohol intake. Maybe it was alcohol poisoning.

On top of the misery, she was getting a headache. She gritted her teeth and tried to halt the down pour falling from her eyes to the grimy floor. Her nose was starting to run.

For the past few weeks she’d hoped that Jeff would move away or something. If she could avoid him forever, it would be fine with her. To avoid conflict, she always allowed herself to be a coward. Why face things that were already in the past?

In the dim dingy lighting, she stared through her blurry tears at the multiple layers of graffiti painted on the black bathroom walls. Some insulted enemies; others declared endless love or told stupid jokes. There were so many different colours and textures that it became a work of art in itself. She read ‘Jane loves Alfonso’ in bright pink permanent marker surrounded by a big red lipstick heart and then, she jammed wads of cheap toilet paper under her eyes. She pounded her fist against the wall with her other hand. Never in a million years had she intended to hurt Jeff more than she already had.

Lucy? a tentative voice called from the other side of the door.

Sarah? Lucy replied, trying not to let her voice crack.

Are you alright, girl?

Just leave me alone.

The room filled with the sound of the live music and voices as the main door to the bathroom opened. She didn’t recognize the song Jeff was playing. It was a new one and it was a great deal more aggressive than most of the band’s repertoire. As the door closed again and the sounds became muffled, Lucy let go and her body shook with new desires to cry. She clenched her stomach muscles trying to keep it in check.

Are you crying in there? Sarah asked from the other side of the door.

Wha...I thought you left.

Another moment passed.

It was just another girl leaving. Sarah explained. C’mon out. Let’s go home. I’ll walk you. You don’t have to see the others. I won’t say a word.

Jeff? Lucy asked standing up straighter. She had to regain control of herself. It didn’t look like Sarah was planning to leave her alone.

That’s definitely him back up on stage. He’s really playing that guitar hard now. I can’t believe he hasn’t busted the strings.

Oh.

Wasn’t the best first reunion after a break up was it? Sarah asked. She was staying light hearted. I talked to Jerry and he said that Jeff has been really pissy ever since…well anyway. He’s been a real bitch so I don’t think you could have said anything to appease him. Sarah was giving her an easy out.

After cleaning her face off with another batch of tissue and swallowing the last urges to wail, she flushed her tears down the toilet. Slowly she slid the lock aside and stepped out into the fluorescent light to face her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were watery looking, puffy and red and she doubted she could clear them up before she had to go out into the crowd. She cringed and leaned closer. Using a chunk of paper towel she tried to clean up the melting mascara under her eyes and glanced over at Sarah for the first time. She was leaning against the counter sideways looking at