Disclaimer: I do not own Secret Window or any of its characters. I only own Chloe and her suitcases.
AN: This isn't the first story I've ever written, so if it sucks, it's just bad writing at the moment. I might eventually post my other stories, but I have to rewrite them first. Well, I hope you enjoy the first chapter. Please remember to review.
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Chapter 1
Mort's POV:
Mort Rainey awoke from a good night's sleep on his couch and yawned. After giving a good stretch he put his glasses on and sat up. His eyes scanned the room around him while his mind went wild. I'm so alone, he thought.
Ever since Amy left him all those months ago, he hadn't been the same. He longed for someone, anyone to keep him company. But just having company wasn't enough. He needed someone to love. He'd longed for someone to hold and caress. It'd been too long since he had. Love had always been at the back of his mind, even now. When Amy left he thought he'd never have the urge to love again, but he was wrong.
He sighed heavily and got up. Before going to the kitchen to get some breakfast, he pulled the phone cord out of the jack. Phone calls were something he didn't want to face that day. Mort opened the refrigerator and pulled out a Mountain Dew. After pulling the pop tab forward then backward again, it broke the seal and he took a gulp of the cold liquid. He set the can on the table and grabbed a bag of Doritos.
So that was his breakfast, and it had been for quite some time. He never felt up to making an actual breakfast. Opening a bag and popping a tab was so much more convenient.
A cramp in his leg caught his attention and he realized he hadn't been outside in days. Quickly, he finished his breakfast, put on a pair of shoes, and headed out the door.
Chloe's POV:
I looked down at my fate as tears streamed down my cheeks. "How did it come to this?" I whispered to myself. The water below lightly licked the hard rock as the wind passed above its surface. Sobs racked my body and I rocked forward and backward. "How?"
The answer to my question, nobody knew but me. I understood why, but it was hard for me to believe. So, how did it come to this? It all started when I was in high school. Lets just say I had a lot of problems. No, I was never into drugs or alcohol. I was stressed, depressed, everything negative that could ever go along with that. Like I said, I had problems. Few things ever made me happy. The only things that made me happy were my music and my stories. That's right, I was an author, I guess. I wrote fan fiction. I attempted writing an actual novel once, but it didn't turn out too good. So, I just stuck to writing fan fiction. I must confess it was my passion. I was obsessed. I loved it. It was always something I could be proud of.
Though I was a so-called writer, I didn't want to be one when I got out on my own. I wanted to be a fashion designer or a photographer. I had dreams of being the next CHANEL. I wanted to live the life of Karl Lagerfeld. Back then it was easy to dream. It was easy to plan your whole future when your future was not yet upon you. During my last year of high school I decided to go on to college once I graduated. Well, graduation came and I finally moved out. But, my future already wasn't going how I planned. I never went to college. Money was a big problem. My parents weren't rich, and I certainly didn't have any money, so I didn't go. That ruined my whole future. Fashion designing was no longer an option for me. When it takes four years of college, there's no way you can get by with none. So, that left photography. And guess what, college for that too. There went that idea.
So what did that leave me with? Nothing. I had nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. I had a few thousand dollars in my bank account, which came in handy. With it, I flew to New York to find a good paying job, but found none. I was lost. Here I was, no job, and still had all my problems. Plus, I had no one. I'd never dated anyone. I was alone all the time, and believe me; it can get depressing after a while. I'd often cry myself to sleep and hope for something better the next day. But as you can see, nothing ever came along. Suicide was the only way out. I went to Tashmore Lake, a small town, where my friend Janie had recently jumped to her death. So, obviously it was a good spot. If I didn't die on contact, which I assumed I wouldn't, I'd drown. Either way, I'd die.
Tears escaped my eyes as I hung my head. "I hate myself." I said softly. The warm breeze lightly blew through my hair and I sighed heavily. "God be with me." As I stood up and prepared to jump, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see a man in about his late thirties, wearing a dark blue shirt and dark gray pants. His scraggly blond hair, obviously dyed, was about chin length, and it barely moved in the wind. It just figures, I thought.
Mort's POV:
When Mort came across the dirt path, he turned down it and saw a figure standing there. Slowly, he approached the figure and as it turned around, he froze. There standing before him was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. She was tall, not more than an inch shorter than he. She wore tight faded bell-bottom jeans, and a tight green shirt, that hugged her slim curvy figure. Shiny brown hair flowed down her curves and ended just below her breasts. Her face was pale and tear stained, clearly indicating that she'd been upset about something.
"Hi." He said, and was clearly startled that he had. The woman quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and cleared her throat nervously.
"Hi." She squeaked in almost a whisper.
"I'm... uh... sorry if I was interrupting anything." He replied. She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest.
She responded with saying, "No, not at all." Mort gave her a sad smile and stepped closer.
"May I ask why you've been crying?" He said, his voice soft and tender.
"I'd tell you, but then you'd just try to talk me out of it." She whispered.
He frowned and said, "Talk you out of what?"
"Jumping." She squeaked while a fresh tear rolled down her cheek. Mort was suddenly overwhelmed with compassion for the girl and he wanted to take her into his arms and tell her it was going to be OK. He stepped a couple feet closer and she tried to step backward, but realized she had nowhere to go but down.
"Now, why would you want to do that?" He calmly asked.
"Because my life sucks!" She croaked. "I've had nothing but bad luck!" Sobs escaped her throat and she sank to her knees. "I just can't take it anymore." Mort hesitantly crouched down in front of her and lifted her chin up with his finger. She flinched but let him keep his hand there. Her dull green yes gazed sadly into his, causing a pang to stab his heart. He'd not known this girl for five minutes, and yet she'd already taken a hold of it.
"What's your name?" Mort asked. The woman wiped a single tear from her eye and let her hand drop back down into her lap.
"Chloe." She whispered. Mort looked her in the eyes and she kept his gaze.
"Chloe, whatever problems you've been trying to solve, and whatever troubles you're going through, I promise they'll get better. You just have to give it some time. Nobody gets what they want right away. It takes a lot of time and hard work, but I'm sure you'll get to where you want." He said. She nodded and sighed sadly.
"I know you're right." She said, but I can't see it getting better anytime soon. I'm just so tired of living." He removed his hand from her chin and patted her knee.
"How about this, you come back to my house with me, and you can tell me all that's troubling you. Then I'll see what I can do to help." He suggested. She rubbed her neck nervously and gulped.
"I... I don't know." She said in a shaky voice.
"Oh, I know what you're thinking." He said. "Don't worry, I'm not a rapist or a murderer or anything like that. I'm an author."
"An author?" She asked.
"Yeah, Mort Rainey." He said cheerfully. She lit up at the name and her mouth formed an 'O' shape.
"I thought you looked familiar." She said, barely above a whisper. The corners of her mouth pulled into a light smile and Mort gave her a big one in return.
"So," He began, "What do you say?" She held the smile while nodding.
"Ok." She said. Mort helped her to her feet and she glanced behind her. "Can you help me with my suitcases?"
"Suitcases?" He questioned.
"In case I changed my mind." She said. He smiled and grabbed a couple for her.
"Well, it's a good thing you brought them then, isn't it?" He said with a smile. She smiled again and grabbed the other two suitcases.
She nodded and said, "It is."
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AN: So, what did you think of it so far? It doesn't suck does it? Well, tell me what you think. You can flame me if needed. Oh, and sorry if there's any mistakes.
