The Vendetta Within
The quiet café on the corner of Baker's Street and Capricorn Avenue was decorated simply for the holiday better known as Thanksgiving. It had white lights hanging in bunches, decorative turkeys stood beside every doorway, and the buffet had the traditional Cornucopia, surrounded with a variety of foods. People were dressed in a large variety of clothes, from simple, old-fashioned sweaters to fancy ballroom dresses. All of the colours blended together in warm shades of orange, brown, yellow and red. It was as if a paint factory exploded nearby and while Shoppers Drug Mart was hit with blue and purple, the café was splattered with the fall-colours.
A man named Tyler wove his way through the crowd. He was dressed in pale blue jeans and an ordinary brown sweater. Not that it mattered - no one saw him in this form anyways.
She has to be here! Everyone's here tonight, there is nowhere else she would be! He thought, walking through a person swiftly. They shivered slightly, but kept talking away to their friend nonchalantly. Tyler muttered an apology out of habit, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Not only was the room scalding hot, but dodging around people wasn't the best way to keep cool either (Tyler didn't like to pass through people, it made him feel 'odd').
Swallowing hard, Tyler pushed his way through an elderly couple chattering away. He grimaced at the sight, realizing that he wouldn't be able to grow old with someone like that.
"...oh you must try the pie..."
"...I heard Billy Joel released a new record..."
"How have you been? I haven't seen you in ages!"
Voices mingled together in the café, making it unusually noisy. Tyler grasped his head and slumped down. Of all the voices he could hear, he only wanted to hear hers! It sounded like chimes blowing in the wind, glass falling on the floor, and sunlight sparkling off water. It was delicate, precise, and could only be completed with her smile. No one would ever forget that smile.
"...this is delightful...
"...Dimitri I must be home by 11..."
"...decorations are simply marvellous..."
Wait. Tyler opened his eyes and looked towards the second voice. A blonde woman stood there with a concerned frown on her porcelain face, her beautiful brown eyes darkened with worry. Tyler's face softened at the sight. She was wearing a red satin dress, which made her brown eyes pop like gems. Clutching a small green wallet, she looked up at the man next to her. Tyler's blood boiled.
How dare she converse with another man? Just because I'm not exactly ... alive ... doesn't mean we're over! Right?
Eyes blazing, Tyler marched towards the couple.
Just because I had to change my name for the whole 'murder-clause'. Just because I didn't read the fine print... Just because I felt bad about doing it... Tyler stood behind the man's shoulders. I take it all back! If I could reverse killing those people, I would!
"No, Dimitri, you know my father. He doesn't like you as is, and if I'm not home on time..."
"Don't worry, Kayla," the man named Dimitri said. He had short, brown hair and an average build. Tyler couldn't see his eyes; the man's back was turned. "I'm only kidding," he teased, grabbing Kayla by the hand, "I promised I would have you home by 11, so I will. Don't worry, we still have an hour." Tyler walked around to get a good look at the man's face.
He had clear blue eyes and an uneven smile. Acne scars were still apparent on his otherwise angelic face, and he stood with an average build about a foot higher than Kayla. A fairly average man, but Kayla deserved more than 'average'. She deserved Tyler... before he died, that is.
Approximately two weeks ago, Tyler had received prescribed drugs due to an abnormal fit of rage he threw daily. It was said that his heart would pump too fast for his mind to comprehend, and all it did was give him large amounts of adrenaline. His doctor prescribed a calming drug that was supposed to slow Tyler's heart - two pills every day. However, after a week of troublesome people and too much work, half the jar was consumed and Tyler's heart just ... stopped - to say the least.
Oddly enough, when he entered the realm of the dead, his anger management had still yet to subside. Tyler would get worked up over the littlest things, like how he can't let go of his girlfriend. So instead of physically hurting the man who stood with his woman (Tyler would have to possess someone to do that), he thought things through a little carefully.
Drifting around behind Dimitri, Tyler whispered in his right ear :
If you take her home now, her father will like you...
Dimitri seemed to snap, like gears turning in action. Despite the clear look in his eyes, he didn't seem too bright about dating. Tyler fought back his new wave of anger towards this man's stupidity.
"Actually," Dimitri started, grabbing Kayla's hand, "lets go home now. I need to be on good terms with your father anyways." Smiling, Dimitri lead his girlfriend from the café. Tyler followed closely.
Where did you park? Do you have your keys? Is she cold? Tyler whispered into Dimitri's ear periodically through the parking lot. And at every unnoticeable hesitation, Dimitri was listening to Tyler too.
Have your coat?
Yes.
Does she have her purse?
Uhm... Yes.
Wasnt the food good?
Ooh yes it was... mmm...
Dimitri unlocked the front door to a standard white Volvo and climbed in. Tyler glided through the door with ease, while Kayla got into the passengers side. Tyler leaned over to whisper in Dimitri's right ear:
Seatbelt on?
Yes.
Did you put the car in 'drive'?
Yes.
Kayla cheating on you?
Ye- wait. What?
Tyler sat back and watched as confusion flitted across Dimitri's face. This was the first sign of chaos - the beginning of the end, so to speak. Not only could Tyler talk to Dimitri, but Dimitri could easily respond back to him and he trusted that his 'consciousness' would give him answers.
What do you mean? She's not cheating... is she? Bullseye! Tyler grinned deviously before leaning forward again.
I said : She is cheating on you. Why do you think her curfew's changed to 11 now? It always used to be at 12.
By now the car was in motion and they were at the halfway point to Kayla's house. Dimitri turned to his girlfriend when they hit a red light.
"Kayla," he said slowly, "are you cheating on me?"
Kayla looked at him in that 'who told you what rumour now?' look. She pursed her lips and responded carefully, "Why would you say that?"
Dimitri frowned, then remembered what Tyler said. "Well your curfew has always been at 12..."
Ask about a man named Tyler.
"... and I bet you see Tyler after I drop you off every night!" The light turned green and Dimitri looked forwards again, a look of distress on his face. Kayla frowned and looked at him.
"Dimitri, didn't I tell you that Tyler died last week? It kinda hurt's that you would bring that up... Especially like that," her expression softened, and she looked away. Tyler couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the woman he left. Dimitri looked towards the girl quickly, believing her reasoning. Tyler pushed his sorrow away and whispered into Dimitri's ear again:
She's lying. That's why she's looking away - liars are never able to look into someone's eyes when they lie.
He watched as Dimitri stole a look towards Kayla a second time, realizing that the voice in his head was very much true.
Anger. How can she do this to you? She's just going to leave you. Hate. Tell her -
"Get out," Dimitri said, unlocking the doors. The car was going 80 miles an hour. Kayla gave him a horrified look, but Dimitri payed her no attention. His gaze was trained on the speeding road ahead of him, but Tyler saw that there was a fire burning in his eyes.
"Dimitri! We're still driv-"
He pulled over sharply, cutting Kayla's cry off suddenly. Tears stung in his eyes, but he remained strong when he said, "I never want to see you again! GET OUT!" He screamed the last bit before sobbing into the wheel. "You can walk home you dirty, lying, cheating..." Dimitri didn't finish his sentence, for a wave of sobs over-took him. Kayla remained seated, unsure how to comfort her boyfriend.
In a final sudden fit of rage, Dimitri stretched across Kayla and pushed open the door. He sat back calmly, his face still red with tears.
"Get out. Now"
Then, to Dimitri's horror and Tyler's pleasure, Kayla swung her legs out the door and got out. "Real men don't cry," she said sharply, before slamming the door. Then she walked briskly towards the nearest bus stop, without looking back.
-Dimitri's POV-
Dear Journal, he wrote, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, it has been years without Kayla in my life... Okay, maybe not years, but it's felt like it. Everyday is more painful than the last... It seems my day consists of crying and sleeping... I have no appetite anymore, and I was fired from my job when I didn't show up at all last week. He puts the pencil down again, realizing the life he was living now.
What life?
Dimitri's eyes water at the thought. What life indeed. There was nothing in his life anymore, it was all pointless. He let himself sob uncontrollably for a few minutes, letting the realization sink in again and stab at where it hurt most. After awhile, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself enough to write again.
I don't even know what came over me... I knew that Tyler had died. I went to his funeral for crying out loud! But that was awhile ago... I guess I forgot about it.
You forgot about it.
Yeah... that must be it... I want to call her, Kayla that is. I want to talk to her again, see how she's doing. But every time I pick up the phone, something tells me to put it down again. Like some internal force that makes me place the phone back on the caddy... This carried along for so long that I dropped the idea altogether and just stopped trying.
Are you sure?
Dimitri glanced up at the clock. 2:39 a.m., it read. He yawned, rubbing his eyes.
You can't go to bed yet..
Why not?
Because you need to finish your entry.
But I'm tiiiired...
Kayla said real men don't whine.
Dimitri snapped out of his fatigued state. Tears started welling at the corners of his eyes again. His face twisted into sadness and he looked away, willing himself to stop this repeatative action.
She was right, crying is for wimps.
I know it is! So why won't I stop?
Because you are a wimp.
Dimitri threw his pen at the wall. Shut up! He closed the notebook he was writing in and hurled that at the wall too. It landed on the floor in a mess of papers. Why won't you just shut up?
Because I'm not real.
Shut UP! Your... I'm not crazy! Dimitri gripped his head. "I'm not crazy! I'm not mad! I'm sane! I'm normal!" he cried out loud - this wasn't in his mind anymore. The voice . . . That voice was there from the beginning. From the beginning of his end.
Maybe you are crazy... Stupid schizophrenic THING. Bash your head against the wall and this will all be over... Guaranteed.
Dimitri threw himself against the wall. The voice started to laugh, so Dimitri hit the wall again. "Just stop!" Bash. "Just shut up!" Bash. A picture fell off its hook and hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces of glass. "Shut UP!" he roared, hitting his head against the wall one last time before stumbling backwards and falling on the broken glass. All seemed silent in that moment... a second of peace... He payed no attention to the new pain in his back.
There was a knock at the door.
"Excuse me," said the muffled voice of an elderly lady, "is everything okay in there? I heard something break."
Dimitri stood up, fixing his shirt hastily. His hair was dripping in sweat from all his efforts. His clothes were in a tangled bunch, and he felt pieces of glass fall from his shirt as he stood. Straightening himself out, he answered the door.
"Oh, yes Ms. Smith, everythings fine," he immediately recognized the lady as his sweet elderly neighbour in the apartment beside his. She must have been on the other side of the wall when the picture fell.
"I don't know, deary," the woman looked at Dimitri suspiciously, then took him by the hand. "You need some air, step outside for awhile."
Dimitri thought for a moment, then closed the door behind him. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he smiled at his neighbour, not wanting to cause her any worry. She smiled back, happiness sparkling in her eyes as she watched Dimitri descend the apartment buildings stairs.
He stepped outside and it was back immediately.
Remember, it's all in your head.
Dimitri ignored the voice, the man, that kept whispering in his head. However, after a few minutes of walking through a local park, Dimitri tripped. It wasn't just a stumble either - no, something was tangled with his foot. He looked behind him and witness a particularly long piece of grass wrapped around his foot.
Admit your crazy! The blade tightened around his ankle, nearly cutting into the skin.
"But I'm not crazy! Let me go!" Dimitri struggled against his snare, crying out when he felt it slide into his flesh. Blood welled around the wound and dripped into the grass, which seemed to eat it hungrily. Fear struck Dimitri's heart.
"I've seen a lot of crazy people in my time, but you're definitely the craziest."
"I said, 'I'M NOT CRAZY'!" Dimitri thrashed around on the ground, like a child who thought their timeout was not fair. He knew it was fairly immature, but at the moment he couldn't care less. Dimitri was fed up with the voice and how it hurt him, mentally and now physically.
"Says the man attempting to swim through grass..." It dawned on Dimitri that the voice had changed. It was more high and raspy, as if the vocal chords had been shot.
"In your state of insanity," it continued, seeing Dimitri pause in his breakdown, "can I interest you in some sneffs?"
Dimitri looked up at a short man wearing a trench coat. Realization drenched him cold as he looked back at his foot, which was fine, clean, and free. Dimitri wiggled it back and forth, just to make sure that it was indeed free of the grass-snare. It was. He looked up at the impatient dealer before him.
"W-who are you?" Dimitri rubbed his throat. It was raw from screaming and hurt to talk.
"Names confidential, but peeps 'round 'ere call me Skimp," the short man explained. He opened one side of his trench coat to reveal an assortment of plastic baggy's containing some sort of powder in each. "Coke? Weed? 'Ead? I have everything. Needles? Naw," he examined Dimitri's state on the grass, "you can't afford that."
Dimitri stood up and nearly blacked out. His head felt light and fuzzy. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind. It shouldn't have been a hard situation; Dimitri has never done drugs, nor intended to. So was it so difficult to say 'no'?
Voices filled his head, yelling and screaming. There were whispers, and it scared Dimitri that those whispers seemed louder than the yelling and screaming. They were calling out colours and names that Dimitri shouldn't even know, all trying to get a say at what type of drug he should buy.
"So what'll it be?" Skimp persisted. He gestured to each of the powders in their pockets. As he passed over a particularly red colour, it seemed to sparkle. Dimitri looked behind him to see that the moon hid behind clouds. What gave off the odd sparkle? Fate? He turned back and pointed to the red powder.
"That one."
No no no No NO! Thats a drug! You're going to die! Since when did you do stuff like this?
Skimp passed the package over to Dimitri and held out his hand for cash. Dimitri pulled out a five dollar bill from his pocket, and Skimp snatched it quickly.
Do you realize what your throwing away? What would Kayla say?..
Kayla doesn't care about me anymore.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Skimp said, before closing his trench coat swiftly and walking back into the shadows where he came from. Dimitri watched as the darkness swallowed its child, then strolled over to a nearby park bench. All was strangely calm and silent, but he didn't notice a thing as he sat down. Untwisting the bag, Dimitri concentrated on keeping all the contents within the plastic. He didn't want to waste any of the precious powder.
Don't do it... The voice echoed now, as if the rest of his head was empty space. He tipped the crimson powder into his hand.
You can dump it anytime... Just stop yourself now...
Dimitri smirked at the poor attempts from the voice now. There was something inside him that snapped before, and it all seemingly made sense now. It was Tyler all along - Tyler was inside his head. Tyler made him break up with Kayla and smash his head against the wall. It was him all along.
Something else told him that the drugs would fix that.
Change your mind...
Dimitri licked at the contents in his palm. It tasted sweet, and spread an odd warmth around his mouth.
SPIT! Its not too late to change this!
Dimitri swallowed.
NO!
Warmth spread around his stomach, then travelled down his arms and legs before going to his head. His vision went white, and for a moment Dimitri was blissfully blind.
Then he threw up.
Tyler flew from the boy and landed several metres from him. That drug - he knew what it was. It was Res, or Resperidone. Clinics use it as a treatment for schizophrenia.
Tyler approached his ex-host, who now lay unconscious on the park bench. After the drug kicked in, Dimitri seemed to have inhaled half of the bag. Tyler smiled at the thought of him overdosing.
Night sounds filled the silence as Tyler walked away. Crickets no longer felt a threat, and the wind came back in a gentle breeze. The drug couldn't fully wear off until Dimitri goes a full two months without it. And since it is a drug, that could be at least 10 years of waiting if Dimitri was hooked. And he was - Tyler could tell.
Tyler glided down the busy street. A semi-truck drove directly in front of him, and in one swift movement he jumped on the back.
There was no point of waiting on Dimitri when there was so many other people he could have revenge over. Oh - one day Tyler will come back, no doubt about it. Dimitri will always be his top vendetta.
Just not today.