Chapter Four: The Last Visit
The clock's hand seems to take an eternity to finally move. But, before I know it, the clock reads three AM.
The air seems to become colder, if that was at all possible, and I glance around, but there is no sign of a Ghost.
"Hello?!" I scream, but the only reply is the echo of my own voice.
Then, without warning, a figure appears at the top of a hill. "Hello?" I scream, but it doesn't reply.
He doesn't walk over to me, but floats, his long black robes flowing. I cannot see his face, it's covered by a large hood which he does not remove.
"Are you the next Ghost?" I ask, and he nods.
"The Ghost of Christmas Future?" I ask, and once again, he responds with a nod.
He points, without really having fingers or a hand, to the right of me, and as I look, the world is filled with a blinding light.
When the light settles, I can see a small alley. There is no light at all.
"Mommy?" I hear a small voice ask.
"Yes, Honey?" the woman responds, her voice shaking.
I walk over to where the sound is coming from. Behind the dumpster sits the same family I had seen early this very night.
The baby begins to cough.
"Oh, Jenna, hurry!" the mother yells, covering the baby. I watch as Jenna, too, comes over and wraps her body around the child, but the coughing is becoming worse.
"Come in closer, Honey," she says to Jenna, and I watch as they both completely cover the baby. However, it doesn't help at all, and the baby continues to cough and draw in sharp breaths, all while trying to cry.
And then the sound stops. In the middle of drawing in another breath, the sound just ends.
"Jenna... move..." the mother says, concern in her voice.
Jenna moves from where she had been and retreats to her corner behind the dumpster.
"Ricky?" she asks the baby. "Ricky?" She touches the babies face. "Ricky? Please, Ricky..." She gently shakes the child. She tries pinching him, poking him. But all is silent.
"Ricky..." she gasps.
"No..." I whisper. "No, Spirit, please tell me it isn't true... please..."
He still says nothing.
"Mommy?" Jenna asks from her corner. "Mommy, is Ricky..."
The mother screams. Her whole body shakes with pain and heartbreak.
The little girl pulls her knees to her chest and begins to sob as well.
"Spirit, please! Please, tell me this hasn't really happened!" I scream.
The image before me fades away.
Sunlight fills the sky around me. There are large hills covered in vibrant green grass, and large trees which are abundant in their fruits. A large mansion sits before it all.
Behind each tree stands a SWAT team member. I see myself standing behind one tree with one.
I look ill. I watch myself watching the house, and I can see the regret in my eyes.
"Here he comes!" echoes through the walkie talkie I hold.
The other me tosses her hand in the air, singling a "get ready" type of thing.
As if in slow motion, the front door opens. Dr. Lecter walks out.
"No!" The real me screams. "No, no, no, no, no!"
Five SWAT members surround him. I can't hear what they say, but I watch as Dr. Lecter starts to give in to them. When one man puts down his gun to place hand cuffs around him, he darts, dragging the man in front of him.
And then a shot rings out. And he falls to the ground.
The other me covers her mouth as the SWAT team members around her run down to the scene. Tears are forming in her eyes. She's paralyzed with emotion... fear, anger, depression.
The real me is stuck in the same way.
"NO!" I find myself screaming at the top of my lungs. "NO! Spirit! Say this won't happen! Say it won't!"
He doesn't respond. He only stares.
I collapse to my knees, face in my hands. If it weren't for the great amount of sound around me, I would have never noticed that we once again had moved on.
I look up from my hands. People rush around about me.
I follow the Ghost as he moves to a corner. I see there the woman who I had seen for the first time in thirty years only tonight. My sister Cassandra.
"I just feel so horrible," she cries into the shirt of a man I hadn't seen before. "She's my children's aunt and none of them ever had the chance to meet her. I feel horrible, Louis, just horrible."
"What?" I whisper, half to myself, half to the Ghost, who I've realized by now, will never respond.
I follow him as he moves again. Ardelia stands here, her husband next to her, his arms over her two children. Her mother stands next to her, arms around Ardelia's shoulders.
"I know it's hard, Dear," her mother says.
"All that time... and I never knew... I had no idea," Ardelia says, with barely any heart at all.
"Sometimes we just don't know things about people, Delia!"
"But, Mom, she was my best friend! It was my job to know her! It was my job to know her and I didn't... I didn't even know she was hurting, and I didn't help... I just left her."
Clarice, Ardelia's daughter, walks up to her and takes her hand. "She would want you to be happy, Mommy," she says, with a smile on her face. "She would want you to be happy because she was sad, and she wouldn't want you to be sad, too."
A few tears finally fall down Ardelia's face as she hugs Clarice. "You're right, C," she says with a smile.
I follow the Ghost as he moves once again.
"I got this from her house," says an older woman dressed in barely anything more than rags. "Worth anything?"
I watch as she pulls my infamous black dress from her bag.
The man who she was speaking to examines it closely. "Something. I'll give you fifty for it."
"Fifty?!" She exclaims. "It's worth more than fifty!"
Two other women approach the scene. "Oh move out of the way, Tina," one says. "Look here, Arnold," she says to the man as she pulls a case full of audio cassettes from her bag. "Her and that Dr. Lecter, all right here..."
He scratches his chin. "Two hundred," he says at last.
"Two hundred?!" The woman Tina yells. "Two hundred?! And you give me fifty?!"
"Would you prefer twenty-five?" He asks in a dry tone.
She stares at him with hatred.
"You need to both move out of the way," says the third, slyly. She's the only one who looks like a remotely normal citizen. She wears a black dress, and her black hair is pulled back behind her.
"And I'm sure you've got something better, Sylvia," says the second woman with an annoyed tone.
Sylvia stalks up to her. "Trash needn't speak with such tones, Rena."
They both stare to each other for a minute before Sylvia turns with a small smile. She opens her large bag and pulls out a dark red book.
"What's this?" Arnold asks, flipping it over in his hands.
"No, no, no..." I whisper.
"'The Diary of Clarice Starling'... couldn't you see how that would sell?" She asks, a smile now across her whole face.
He looked up to her, amazed. "A thousand," he says.
She places her hand on the book. "And 10% of whatever you make off it."
He glances down and then back to her. "It's a deal."
"But that's mine!" I yell. "That's mine! They can't just take it!"
But the scene has faded away again, and we're back where we started, in the cold, dark, and deserted place.
However, this time, I realize where we are. We're in a cemetery. An old and battered one.
"Spirit..." I whisper. He responds by pointing to the top of the hill which he had came from.
I walk slowly over to it and then up it's steep slope.
At the very top, sits a small grave. An angel statue sits on top, but it's been unvisited for what seems to be years, due to the amount of grass grown upon the bottom and the cobwebs which completely cover it.
"What's this?" I ask, but the Ghost of course does not respond.
I walk forward to it, bending down to it's height, and move away a thick layer of webs from it's surface.
CLARICE STARLING
I back away from it, stumbling over a tree root which had grown around the grave as well.
I turn back to the Ghost and crawl over to him. Grabbing his robes, I beg "Please! Please tell me it isn't true! Please tell me it can be changed! Please, Spirit!" Tears are falling down my face, mixing with the dirt and his robes. "Please, Spirit..."
But without warning, I am grabbed by two men. I can't make out who they are, it's too dark, but I feel them dragging me, kicking me, and finally dropping me...
And then I'm falling... Falling to the hole in the ground... Falling to my death...
The clock's hand seems to take an eternity to finally move. But, before I know it, the clock reads three AM.
The air seems to become colder, if that was at all possible, and I glance around, but there is no sign of a Ghost.
"Hello?!" I scream, but the only reply is the echo of my own voice.
Then, without warning, a figure appears at the top of a hill. "Hello?" I scream, but it doesn't reply.
He doesn't walk over to me, but floats, his long black robes flowing. I cannot see his face, it's covered by a large hood which he does not remove.
"Are you the next Ghost?" I ask, and he nods.
"The Ghost of Christmas Future?" I ask, and once again, he responds with a nod.
He points, without really having fingers or a hand, to the right of me, and as I look, the world is filled with a blinding light.
When the light settles, I can see a small alley. There is no light at all.
"Mommy?" I hear a small voice ask.
"Yes, Honey?" the woman responds, her voice shaking.
I walk over to where the sound is coming from. Behind the dumpster sits the same family I had seen early this very night.
The baby begins to cough.
"Oh, Jenna, hurry!" the mother yells, covering the baby. I watch as Jenna, too, comes over and wraps her body around the child, but the coughing is becoming worse.
"Come in closer, Honey," she says to Jenna, and I watch as they both completely cover the baby. However, it doesn't help at all, and the baby continues to cough and draw in sharp breaths, all while trying to cry.
And then the sound stops. In the middle of drawing in another breath, the sound just ends.
"Jenna... move..." the mother says, concern in her voice.
Jenna moves from where she had been and retreats to her corner behind the dumpster.
"Ricky?" she asks the baby. "Ricky?" She touches the babies face. "Ricky? Please, Ricky..." She gently shakes the child. She tries pinching him, poking him. But all is silent.
"Ricky..." she gasps.
"No..." I whisper. "No, Spirit, please tell me it isn't true... please..."
He still says nothing.
"Mommy?" Jenna asks from her corner. "Mommy, is Ricky..."
The mother screams. Her whole body shakes with pain and heartbreak.
The little girl pulls her knees to her chest and begins to sob as well.
"Spirit, please! Please, tell me this hasn't really happened!" I scream.
The image before me fades away.
Sunlight fills the sky around me. There are large hills covered in vibrant green grass, and large trees which are abundant in their fruits. A large mansion sits before it all.
Behind each tree stands a SWAT team member. I see myself standing behind one tree with one.
I look ill. I watch myself watching the house, and I can see the regret in my eyes.
"Here he comes!" echoes through the walkie talkie I hold.
The other me tosses her hand in the air, singling a "get ready" type of thing.
As if in slow motion, the front door opens. Dr. Lecter walks out.
"No!" The real me screams. "No, no, no, no, no!"
Five SWAT members surround him. I can't hear what they say, but I watch as Dr. Lecter starts to give in to them. When one man puts down his gun to place hand cuffs around him, he darts, dragging the man in front of him.
And then a shot rings out. And he falls to the ground.
The other me covers her mouth as the SWAT team members around her run down to the scene. Tears are forming in her eyes. She's paralyzed with emotion... fear, anger, depression.
The real me is stuck in the same way.
"NO!" I find myself screaming at the top of my lungs. "NO! Spirit! Say this won't happen! Say it won't!"
He doesn't respond. He only stares.
I collapse to my knees, face in my hands. If it weren't for the great amount of sound around me, I would have never noticed that we once again had moved on.
I look up from my hands. People rush around about me.
I follow the Ghost as he moves to a corner. I see there the woman who I had seen for the first time in thirty years only tonight. My sister Cassandra.
"I just feel so horrible," she cries into the shirt of a man I hadn't seen before. "She's my children's aunt and none of them ever had the chance to meet her. I feel horrible, Louis, just horrible."
"What?" I whisper, half to myself, half to the Ghost, who I've realized by now, will never respond.
I follow him as he moves again. Ardelia stands here, her husband next to her, his arms over her two children. Her mother stands next to her, arms around Ardelia's shoulders.
"I know it's hard, Dear," her mother says.
"All that time... and I never knew... I had no idea," Ardelia says, with barely any heart at all.
"Sometimes we just don't know things about people, Delia!"
"But, Mom, she was my best friend! It was my job to know her! It was my job to know her and I didn't... I didn't even know she was hurting, and I didn't help... I just left her."
Clarice, Ardelia's daughter, walks up to her and takes her hand. "She would want you to be happy, Mommy," she says, with a smile on her face. "She would want you to be happy because she was sad, and she wouldn't want you to be sad, too."
A few tears finally fall down Ardelia's face as she hugs Clarice. "You're right, C," she says with a smile.
I follow the Ghost as he moves once again.
"I got this from her house," says an older woman dressed in barely anything more than rags. "Worth anything?"
I watch as she pulls my infamous black dress from her bag.
The man who she was speaking to examines it closely. "Something. I'll give you fifty for it."
"Fifty?!" She exclaims. "It's worth more than fifty!"
Two other women approach the scene. "Oh move out of the way, Tina," one says. "Look here, Arnold," she says to the man as she pulls a case full of audio cassettes from her bag. "Her and that Dr. Lecter, all right here..."
He scratches his chin. "Two hundred," he says at last.
"Two hundred?!" The woman Tina yells. "Two hundred?! And you give me fifty?!"
"Would you prefer twenty-five?" He asks in a dry tone.
She stares at him with hatred.
"You need to both move out of the way," says the third, slyly. She's the only one who looks like a remotely normal citizen. She wears a black dress, and her black hair is pulled back behind her.
"And I'm sure you've got something better, Sylvia," says the second woman with an annoyed tone.
Sylvia stalks up to her. "Trash needn't speak with such tones, Rena."
They both stare to each other for a minute before Sylvia turns with a small smile. She opens her large bag and pulls out a dark red book.
"What's this?" Arnold asks, flipping it over in his hands.
"No, no, no..." I whisper.
"'The Diary of Clarice Starling'... couldn't you see how that would sell?" She asks, a smile now across her whole face.
He looked up to her, amazed. "A thousand," he says.
She places her hand on the book. "And 10% of whatever you make off it."
He glances down and then back to her. "It's a deal."
"But that's mine!" I yell. "That's mine! They can't just take it!"
But the scene has faded away again, and we're back where we started, in the cold, dark, and deserted place.
However, this time, I realize where we are. We're in a cemetery. An old and battered one.
"Spirit..." I whisper. He responds by pointing to the top of the hill which he had came from.
I walk slowly over to it and then up it's steep slope.
At the very top, sits a small grave. An angel statue sits on top, but it's been unvisited for what seems to be years, due to the amount of grass grown upon the bottom and the cobwebs which completely cover it.
"What's this?" I ask, but the Ghost of course does not respond.
I walk forward to it, bending down to it's height, and move away a thick layer of webs from it's surface.
CLARICE STARLING
I back away from it, stumbling over a tree root which had grown around the grave as well.
I turn back to the Ghost and crawl over to him. Grabbing his robes, I beg "Please! Please tell me it isn't true! Please tell me it can be changed! Please, Spirit!" Tears are falling down my face, mixing with the dirt and his robes. "Please, Spirit..."
But without warning, I am grabbed by two men. I can't make out who they are, it's too dark, but I feel them dragging me, kicking me, and finally dropping me...
And then I'm falling... Falling to the hole in the ground... Falling to my death...