Sunday, March 29, 2009

The Enemy Within, Part 5

Previously, on The Enemy Within: We're into the 1990's now, and with it comes our newest bitchy protagonist, Dawn Sullivan, who doesn't like to do homework. Well her buddy Jenni is having memory blackouts and think she might've killed their classmate Savannah Delony whom no one seems to give a rat's ass about, along with a bunch of small children when she was six. Jenni storms up to Dawn in the cafeteria and reveals she's actually the fiendish Gracie! Oh my! Now Gracie wants to meet Dawn alone in the middle of the night at a secluded location. Dawn intelligently agrees. I wonder what's going to happen next...

Chapter 17: A Night of Death

Dawn was walking down to the lake that night with her sister Chloe. [Pronounced like it rhymes with go.] “I still don’t know why you insisted on coming Chloe,” Dawn said.

“Because, if I can’t come, I’ll tell mom and Dad that you snuck out after curfew.”

“And your supposed to be the sister that I like.”

“Oh come on Delta Dawn. Relax. Live a little. Hang ten.” [You know this kids got to die, right?]

“Will you shut up.”

“When you tell my why you’re here, I might consider shutting up.”

“Is that so, Chloe.”

“Yeah it’s so, Delta Dawn.”

“Why do you always call me Delta Dawn.” [It seems like everyone in your family calls you Delta Dawn.]

“It fits.”

“Well, if you really want to know why I’m here, it’s because I’m meeting Jenni here.”

“What does she want.”

“I don’t know. [To kill you.] She’s been acting really weird lately. So I just want to find out what’s wrong with her and get this damn thing over with.” [What a caring friend.]

“Sounds ethical.”

“Since when are you so ethical.”

“Since when do you sware at me.”

“Since you’re getting me pissed off more often.”

“Well thanks for the vote of conf--” Dawn broke her off.

“We’re here, so shut up. Alright.”

“Yeah whatever.”

“Go play by the swings or something. I’m pretty sure Jenni doesn’t want you to here this.”

“Yes sis,” Chloe said saluting Dawn as if she were a military sargant. [I’m kind of starting to like her.] Then she went off to play.

“Jenni,” Dawn called. “Jenni, are you here. Jenni!”

“Hello Dawn,” a raspy voice said behind her a few minutes later.

Dawn jump, startled, and then turned around. “I’m not Jenni. My name is Gracie. Gracie Deck.”

“Uh-huh?” Dawn said quistionally. “Is that a fact.”

“Yes it is. And I’ve been trying to figure out who you are.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Like I said earlier,” she paused and sat on a rock. Dawn did the same. [They must have some big rocks at this lake] “I’ve always had my suspicions about you, and now I want to know if they’re true. So tell me, Dawn, have you always felt different from everyone else?”

“Yeah, duh. I think you would know that.”

“Mabey, mabey not. You never know what’s goin on in other people’s eyes, Because you can’t see through them. [How profound.] Are you getting any of this?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Well here’s another example Dawn. Have you ever wanted something that seems unlikely for you to get, but you get it anyway?”


“Do you ever have dreams that you’re someone else?”

“Who doesn’t.”

“No, not like that. Someone real.” [Anyone remember the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie?]

“Mabey I do Jenni, mabey I don’t.”

“The name is Gracie.”

“That’s nice. I’m going home.” She got up and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Dawn,” she stopped and turned around. “One more thing.” Then Gracie got up and walked over to Dawn. “Take this.” She reached into her pocket and got out an ivory handled knife, and held it out to Dawn. “For your own protection Delta Dawn.” And with that she left. [What? Why did she give her a knife? To give her a fighting chance for when Gracie eventually will try to kill her?]

Then Dawn started walking down to the playground where she left Chloe. “Hey, Chloe. Where are you you crazy bitch?” she called. “Chloe, Chloe.” Dawn was starting to get worried. Where was her sister.

Mabey she fell into the lake, Dawn thought. Dawn made her way down to the lake, and then saw the most terrifying thing she had ever seen in her entire life. She started to scream.

Chapter 18: “Not Chloe”

“No! No! Not my sister! Not Chloe! She can’t be dead! She just can’t!” Then Dawn started to cry. She couldn’t stop. No matter how she tried, she just couldn’t stop crying. [Did anybody NOT see that coming?]

“Oh my got,” an old man said. [Where the hell did he come from?] Then he faced Dawn. “What’s going on here, honey? What happened? Who’s that?” [I don’t know about you, but those wouldn’t be the first words to come out of my mouth after seeing the body of a dead thirteen-year-old. And how did she die anyway? Was she drowned in the lake? Was she stabbed as my characters are so fond of doing when there’s no cliffs to be pushed off of? It would be kind of cool if she was stabbed with the very same knife Gracie gave Dawn, though Gracie must’ve killed her really quick to do it in the time Dawn and Chloe were separated, and without Chloe making a sound.]

“My sister,” she said between sobs. “Chloe. She didn’t do anything wrong. Why did this--” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“What’s going on here Al?” Dawn heard another guy say. [What? Two old guys out on a moonlit stroll in the middle of the night. Maybe they’re the real killers.]

“Call the cops. A girls been murdered. This is her sister.”

“Right away.” He left. [Notice how they don’t even think to check for a pulse or anything, let alone CPR.]

“It’s going to be Okay. What’s your name Honey?”

“It’s Dawn. Dawn Sullivan.”

“Come into the house Dawn.” [What house? They’re in the middle of a park.]


* * * * *

The next day at school was a mad house. [What? What about her family’s reaction. I’m sure that was worth reading. Why is she even going to school the day after her sister’s death? Don’t people tend to stay home for a few days, and you know, MOURN?] Everyone was asking her about all the gory details about Chloe’s body. And Jenni was even more upset than Dawn. She was crying consistently. Dawn ran up to her. “Jenni, what’s wrong?” [Because your sister’s death shouldn’t bother her at all…]

“I don’t remember where I was last night. I think--” But Dawn cut her off.

“You didn’t do anything wrong Jenni.”

“How would you know?”

“Because you were with me.”

“I was,” she said questionally.

“Yeah. You and me were talking before Chloe. . . .” She didn’t finish her sentence. It would mak this strange situation real. And Dawn didn’t want that. Not at all. [Repression is the best way to deal with tragedy.]

* * * * *

This is great, Gracie thought. This is just so great. I’ve got all those fucking ass holes fooled. They think that I’m sweet sappy pathetic little Jennifer Louise Miller. Hah. May they all burn in hell for just thinking that. Especially little ol’ Delta Dawn Sullivan. She is just so pathetic. But god knows who she is. She could be Lauren for all I know. But she is one of us. She has to be. She practically admitted it. She get’s thing when she wants it, And she has dreams that she’s other people. [Well that just proves it.] But who does she dreams she is? Is there a slight possibility that whoever she was was born into that body? And forgot who or what she was? God knows, Gracie thought. Only god could know, because, she didn’t.

Chapter 19: Death is but a door

[Time is but a window, I’ll be back. Ghostbusters 2, anyone?]

The funeral was held two days later. School had been closed for the accasion. [Isn’t that nice of the school board?] Chloe was a well-liked fun-to-be-with kind of girl. A lot of people were going to miss her. Especially Dawn. Dawn looked around to see how many of her friends were there. She saw almost all of Chloe’s friends, but how many of her own? Melanie Smith, Debbie Larsen, Shari Lapinski, Justine MacNicols, Jenni Miller of course, Clea Mallone, Shannon Park, Paula and Hallie Goodrich, and Nancy Nite. [It’s been a few chapters since we mentioned her other friends and I needed to remind the reader who they were, especially since some of them had yet to be introduced. On an interesting note they were all actually based on friends I had at the time. I was Dawn, of course. Jenni was Amanda, Debbie was Stephanie, Melanie was Brittany, Paula and Hallie were Paige and Aimee (Rachel and Elizabeth from The Day of Rebecca), Clea was Tiffany, and I can’t recall who the rest were.]

A lot of her friends had come. That was nice of them. The service went on and on, and Jenni kept crying more and more. You’d think she was Chloe’s best friend. Apparently she still though she had killed Chloe. But she couldn’t have. She was with Dawn at the time.

Then Clea walked up to her. “Hi Dawn,” she said. “How’s it going.” [In the middle of the service?]

“Okay I guess.”

“She was killed so brutally. So much blood. So much gore. [Clea’s such a tactful little peach. But at least now we have a clue how she died. I‘m going with my knife hypothesis.] And you were the one to find her. If you ask me, that was the bravest thing anyone could ever go through,” she said.

Clea always knew how to say the wrong thing in the right way. Dawn always had admired her for that. [Okay?] It was one of Clea’s few good qualities. That didn’t necessarily mean that she was a bad person. She just had a lot of stuff to work on.

The service seemed to just go on and on, [I think we went over this just a few paragraphs ago] and Dawn started to feel dizzy. The strangest thing popped ito her head. It was a line from a poem she heard a long time ago;

And the day came,
That the risk it took to
Remain closed in a bud
Became more difficult
Than the risk it took
To blossom.

[This is a poem from MTV’s The Maxx whose true meaning went completely over my twelve-year-old head.]

Wow, Dawn thought. Where did that come from? How do I know it? [I believe you mentioned it was from a poem you heard a long time ago. Just a guess.] Where the hell did it come from?

* * * * *

That night after the funeral Dawn had a dream about Chloe. . . . . .

* * * * *

What the hell. . . , Dawn thought, This is strange dream. She was at school, but everything was large. Larger than they should be. And it was all so bright. Everything was so bright but dark. She could see the bright vibrant colors. But they were dark, like pastel. [I’ve always liked bizarre dream sequences. This is the first of many to come in the future.] Things were definitely getting weird.

She saw all these other kids. They were screaming in agony. Dawn wanted to go over there, to help them, but she couldn’t. She had a certain way to go. A certain path, and she couldn’t get off that path. Then, when the path finally ended, she wasn’t Chloe’s locker. [Let me remind the reader that Chloe went to a different school.]

“Open the door,” she heard a high, shrill voice say. “Open the door. Open the door.”

But Dawn didn’t want to open the door. She knew what was behind it, but she didn’t. She knew that behind that door was something that she just did not want to see. But she opened it anyway. Dawn knew that she could not leave without doing so.

Behind the door was Chloe Sullivan, looking the way she had before that gruesome night when she was brutally murdered. “Dawn,” she said in a serious tone. “Your mother did this. Your mother killed me.”

“But Chloe, mom wouldn’t kill you, she loves you.”

“Not my mother dawn, your mother.”

“But Chloe, we’re sisters.”

“You understand, in your subconscious at least. You have forgotten it for so long. But you have to remember Dawn, who your mother really is.”


“All will come in due time, Dawn, and remember the poem.”

“The poem?”

“Yes.” Then she started to fade off into oblivion

“Chloe! Chloe! Where did you go? I want to go to! Chloe!”

[In the margin I wrote in huge letters “Gracie killed Chloe.” I guess just in case somebody didn’t get the dream…]

* * * * *

Dawn woke up crying with her mother’s arms around her. “Dawn, it’s okay, it’s okay sweetie. It was only a bad dream, just a dream. Everything’s fine now.”

“Mom,” Dawn said.

“Yes sweetie.”

“I had a dream about Chloe.”

“I know honey.”

“No, you don’t get it. She was really there. Talking about who killed her.”

“Dawn, it was just a dream. Now go back to sleep.” And then, she left.

The poem, Dawn thought. What poem? Then she remember the poem she thought about earlier, at the funeral;

And the day came,
That the risk it took
To remain closed in a bud,
Became more difficult
Than the risk it took
To blossom.

[Let’s start a count of how many times I repeated this. Current Count: 2]

That poem, she remembered that poem. She didn’t remember where she heard the poem, she just remembered it. Is that what she ment by the poem? When what does it mean. . . . . . .

Chapter 20: Another Death

Dawn awoke the next mourning to the sound of the phone ringing. “Will somebody get that,” she called. But no one answered, and no one did. “Fine, I’ll get it myself.”

She got out of bed and went downstairs. “Hello,” she said.

“Dawn?” It was Jenni.

“Yeah Jen.”

“Someone’s dead.”

“Huh? What do you mean Jenni?”

“I mean I don’t know where I was last night, and when I woke up, I was still dressed in the same clothes I had on last night.”

“So, that doesn’t necessarily mean that you killed somebody. [I think we’ve established that yes, it does.]

“Yeah but--” the phone went dead.

“Jenni! Jenni! Hello! Jenni!” Dawn hung up the phone. “She was just on her way out to go to Jenni’s house when the phone wrang.

“Hello,” she said into the phone.

“Dawn? Is that you?” It was Melanie, and she was crying.

“Melanie, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Debbie.”

“What happened to Debbie? Melanie didn’t aswer. “Melanie! What happened to Debbie? You have to tell me!”

“She’s. . . . . She’s. . . .” Then she broke off crying again. Melanie didn’t have to answer. Dawn knew what happened to Debbie. She was dead. And Dawn had a pretty good idea who was responsible.

“Bye Melanie.” She hung up. Then, right when she was about to leave, she heard knocking on the door. “What is it now?” she muttered under her breath. Dawn opened the door.

It was a police officer. “Yes, can I help you sir.”

“Yes. Put your hands behind your back.”


He cuffed her. “You are under arrest for the murder of Chloe Sullivan and Deborah Larson. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorny. . . . .” [Is this legal? She is a minor.] And as he read her her rights, the only thing going through her mind was; I’m not guilty, I’m not guilty. I didn’t do anything. I’m innocent. Innocent.


Fear Street said...

Awesome. Your commentary on these things always cracks me up.

HelenB said...

Only god could know, because, she didn’t.

That had to be my favourite line from the whole thing. I'm loving this story! It's so epic :D