Handled

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye or The Lovely Bones.

Part Three

This can't be happening. I would never kill myself—even by accident. I would have known it.

Lisa looked down at home. Her father was taking the blame for killing Jackson, because he had jumped to conclusions as she had. She should have never been waiting for him. Had she not pulled the gun out when she did, would she still be alive? Would she be sitting at home, speaking with him and enjoying life? Or would she be huddled away safely at her apartment, where she could hide away from Jackson and life?

She sighed. When did everything become so complex?

"Lisa?" Jackson called out, nearing her.

"Why can't you just leave me alone!"

"Leese, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about that day. I never meant for you to get hurt. I'm sorry."

Did Jackson Rippner just apologize to me?

"Wow," Lisa responded, her head still reeling.

"What? You don't believe it? I'm sorry, Lisa. I regret what I did. I should have known how you'd react. I should have guessed it! Are you happy now?" Jackson's voice grew louder and more agitated with each word.

"How can I be? I'm DEAD, Jackson!"

"At least you admit that much."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can't be happy or move on until you realized why you're even here. At least you've come to the conclusion that you are dead. That's half of it."

Lisa glared openly at him. "And when did you become a freaking expert?"

"When I realized that I hate listening to your moaning, groaning, and griping every damn day. This hasn't been a picnic for me either."

"Oh gee, like I haven't noticed," Lisa snarled sarcastically. Like I really care about you.

"Unlike you, I'd like to move on to the real heaven. And I can't do it until you let go," Jackson pointed out.

"Argh!"

Lisa stalked away angrily. How dare he talk to me like that!


"Good-bye, Lisa," Joe was whispering to her grave. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there."

He carefully laid a bunch of flowers by the polished headstone. It's time to let go.


Daddy, no. I don't want to leave.

Lisa felt a few tears escape her green eyes. She did not want to leave. She had been in the prime of her life and was not ready to except her death. At first, death had been refreshing, but now, now she just wanted to go home.

This is home now. There's nowhere else to go.

"Why did I have to die? Why did I shoot myself?" she asked no one.

I can't change what's happened. There's no use in dwelling on the past. Jackson was right—I have to let go.

"Bye, daddy," she whispered, her voice floating down upon a breeze to where Joe was walking away from her grave. "I love you. I'm sorry."

I really did kill myself. I shot myself. It was an accident, but Jackson didn't do it. I did it.

Relief washed over her. She felt relaxed and light. All the tension and anger that she had been harboring had dissipated. She was at peace for good. And she had Jackson to thank for it.

Thank you, Jackson for 'handling' things…

Author's Notes:

That's the shortest, oddest story I think I've ever written. Hmm.