Guess who's back, back, back; back again, again, again?
Kelly's back, back, back; tell a friend, friend, friend
TAH DAH! I've returned from my stay in the best state ever, besides Texas, all tan and pretty (I'm not sure on the last one.)
The Roadster show rocked, and we cruised on the PCH, having the best time of my life.
Man, I wished I'd never moved…
Oh well… Enough gory details! On with the story!
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In the morning I woke, worried that my dream had been true. Because if it had; one, Francois was most likely going to come back to kill us all and two, I kissed Ethan.
The while after everyone woke up and got ready to leave was like a torture for me, Ethan didn't say anything to me, and I avoided him carefully, making sure that he couldn't speak to me.
But then, my plans were thwarted when Clair and I went outside to take me home, and found her tires slashed.
"Holy…" Clair whispered, her hands tangled in her hair, as if she was trying to rip it out.
"Oh my God…" I said, bending over to check them out.
"Damnit! Now I have to go and buy a whole new set! Do you know how much that'll cost me?" She demanded, her voice rising hysterically.
"That's at least four hundred…" I said, coming back after circling the car, seeing all four tires ripped all the way around. "Don't you have insurance?"
"No…" She moaned, dropping to the grass. "Mom's going to kill me."
"What happ… oh my God." Abby said, coming outside to see what the noise was.
"Your tires…" Kelee whispered, her hands covering her mouth in shock.
"Did you hear anything last night?" Christi asked Brian, who had just come out.
"No, what about you guys?"
"Nothing."
"Nope."
From the grass Clair moaned, the sound muffled by her knees.
"Didn't you have insurance?" Kurt asked, now checking the tires.
"No." I answered for her.
"Damn, that's going to be expensive." Ethan said.
I felt little tingles from just hearing his voice, but avoided looking up at him.
There was a silence, where everyone seemed to be either staring at the car or at Clair.
"At least they didn't key the car." Brad said, trying to comfort Clair.
"That's true." I agreed, sitting down next to her.
"But the thing needs a new paint job anyway!" Clair wailed, raising her head, revealing twin wet streaks down her cheeks.
She had a point. The Poor '68 Nova paint was a hideous shade of sea foam green with yellow and purple pin striping; obviously evidence of the late '80's or early '90's.
"But it would have scratched the body all up, and even with a new paint job it wouldn't cover up the damage to the fiberglass." I said quickly, hoping she wouldn't contradict me by saying the body wasn't fiberglass and that it wouldn't be scratched. I sure as heck didn't know, I just grabbed the first thing that came to mind about keying cars.
There was a tense moment, at least for me anyway, before Clair sniffed and said, "I guess you're right… but I still don't have the money for tires, and mom and dad won't lend me any, they just spent a butt-load on getting the transmission fixed!"
Me talking seemed to be making Clair even more upset.
"I think I have some old tires in my garage…" Zach said, looking like he was thinking hard. "Dad'll never miss them; he just got some new ones and were planning to give 'em to my sister for her car."
"Really?" Clair looked up, smiling at last.
"Absolutely. I'll bring them by later today, when I can sneak them out. I don't think Maddie'll mind… much." He said, cracking a crooked smile.
We laughed at the thought of Zach's high maintenance older sister not finding the tires in the garage, but it was cut short by my cell phone ringing the Blues Brothers' theme song.
I blushed a little before answering "Hi mom."
"Katey Anne Douglas, I need you to get home right now." She said; her voice unusually stern.
"I was just on my way but…"
She interrupted me, "Don't you go giving any excuses! You get home this instant!"
"But mom…"
"Don't you 'but mom' me, get your butt back home; NOW"
She hung up on me, and I stared at the phone in shock.
Mom had just yelled at me, no, screamed at me over the phone and wouldn't even say way.
I had only seen, heard, her this way once before. We were at the Grand Canyon and I had wanted to go down to the bottom, so, without even consenting mom or dad, I climbed over the railing and started making my way down to the bottom.
Luckily a park ranger spotted me and brought me back to my parents, who yelled at me, making me cry in public.
But that had been over ten years ago, and I dreaded to think of what I had done to make mom this mad.
"Guys, I have to go. Mom sounds ready to kill…" I said, starting to go, but Ethan grabbed my arm, making me feel all tingly again.
'How are you going to get home?" He asked skeptically.
"Same was as I did before Clair got her car; walking."
"Katey, you've got some madman after you; you're not walking home."
Two, actually.
"Then how, pray tell, am I going to get home? Flying?" I smirked.
"I have my car here too."
Oh yeah; last night when he drove back with the guys he had parked in the street, because the driveway was big enough for only one car, and whoever slashed the tires must have figured it was the neighbor's car.
My grin faded and I felt incredibly stupid.
"Damn my un-observance to the deepest circle of Hades." I mumbled, wishing I could evaporate.
"No time for cursing now, your mom sounded mad." Jenny said, shoving me to Ethan's Ford Expedition.
"You heard her?" I asked, twisting my head around, cheeks flushing bright red.
"She was only screaming; now go, before she sends the FBI or something." She said, giving me a final shove, making me trip over the curb, and slamming my arm into the rear passenger door.
I regained my balance, turned back to face the sniggering behind me and said, "Jenny, one of these day you are SO going to get jumped."
This made them laugh even harder, obviously remembering the time I had tried to 'jump' Christi.
I had snuck up behind her and literally jumped on her, trying to tackle her to the ground, but wound up being the one taken down. Yeah, I'm a little out of practice, seeing as I've had no older or younger siblings to practice with.
After a few moments of stalling, Ethan and I got in, and drove in a very uncomfortable silence. I wondered if he had the same crazy fencing dream as I had, but was terrified at the thought of asking.
"There's my house." I said, unbuckling.
"See you at school." He said, glancing over at the car door which I had just shut.
I nodded, and hurried up my front walk, almost cowering in fear as to the question why mom was so pissed at me.
I opened the door slowly and quietly, hoping to sneak in, but just as I poked my head through the door frame I saw that I would have no such luck.
Mom and dad were standing guard in the front doorway, evidently waiting for me.
"Katey Anne Douglas. Do you have any idea as to how worried we were about you?" Dad thundered. I hadn't heard him thunder in a long time.
"I thought Clair called you guys…" I said in a small voice. I can't stand confrontations aimed directly at me.
"She did, but that's not the problem." Mom said fiercely.
Oh boy, did Erik show up in my bedroom or something? I thought, allowing a momentary comic relief in my head.
"Have you seen the news this morning?" Dad asked; more of a demand than anything else.
"No…" I said. What's so important about the news anyway? It's all lame and depressing stuff about murderers and rapists… oh shit.
"There was a tape recovered from your school showing a girl in a ballet costume almost getting raped!" Mom shrilled.
"There could have been other girls there in ballet costumes, mom." I said, my voice betraying the fact I was lying.
"Only there was a crowd of her friends apparently, and they all strangely looked like your posse." Dad said cynically.
I suppose my eyes started to well up, because all of a sudden things got blurry and the next thing I knew, mom and dad were hugging me and didn't sound mad anymore.
"Sweetheart, why didn't you come home?" Mom asked, sounding on the verge of tears herself.
"Honey, you can tell us anything." Dad said.
"But I was afraid!" I blubbered. "And you saw on the tape that I hit my head…"
"You hit your head?" Mom asked, pulling back.
"We saw only the cretin lunge and you and then you running, as well as the boys tackling him." Dad said, sounding definitely worried now.
"Where did you hit, honey, do you need to go to the doctor?" Mom asked, already feeling along my skull for any lumps.
She found where I landed, a little behind my ear, and I whimpered in pain.
"Oh… Sweetie, we need to take you to the doctor… do you feel like you're going to faint? Can you see alright?" Mom said, already starting to put my arm around her shoulder for a crutch.
"Well I was fine until you touched it…" I said, gritting my teeth against the horrible throbbing that seemed to pulsate through my entire head, making things start to see the weird Technicolor spots you see when you stare at something bright for too long and then suddenly look away.
"I'll be fine, mom. I just need to go… lie down, okay?" I said, rambling past them and up the stairs to my room, leaning heavily on the rail.
I fell on my bed, making sure not to land on my bump, but didn't close my eyes.
For sure, when I fell asleep, I would wind up back somehow with Francois, it was inevitable. And I just had to stop that somehow… but how?
I wasn't sure what world he was in… mine, or Paris, and I wasn't altogether willing to find out which. But… if I could just find out which one…
I sat up suddenly. I just had the greatest epiphany of all times… If only Erik and everyone else would just go along with me… and if I could figure this out right…
I sat down at in my old desk chair, which squeaked and groaned, and turned flipped on my laptop which was supposed to be used only for school work, but this time it was an emergency of some sorts.
I went to and typed in "what happens when you're in a coma?"
At first nothing popped up, but then there were all these articles from people who had been in comas.
Three years ago I would have read these and laughed my butt off at these crazy people writing about how they wound up in London, 1900, or Italy 1452 or whatever, but now I knew exactly how they felt.
Only they had actually been brave enough to share their experiences.
I read all of their stories, and then re-read them, picking over every detail, comparing them to my experience. Not one of them seemed close enough to mine to ask for help.
I went back to the search page and clicked on another similar link with more of these stories, reading, re-reading and comparing until I finally found a story that was close to mine.
The person had been walking alone at night when they were attacked and beaten until they passed out, waking in Paris, 1871, near the Opera House. They went to the house and stayed for a while, making friends with the ballerina's and crews there, all the while speaking French, with no previous knowledge of the language.
I scanned the bottom of the page for an email address, and wrote them an email, begging them to answer a question of mine.
I sent it, and went back to research more about coma's, when my email inbox popped up, saying I had a new email.
I could scarcely believe that they had written back so fast.
"To KateyxRox3,
Thank you for sending the email; it has been a long time since anyone has believed my story, and oblige in your request for knowing more about my experiences.
Before I quench your thirst for knowledge, however, I must first ask your intentions. Forgive me if I may seem rude, but if this is merely a school project or some sort I must deny your plea.
If you could reply back your intentions that would be helpful, before I reveal to a stranger my personal stories.
-Sincerely yours, Paul Franklin."
I concentrated on the name; trying to think back to if I had met anyone by the name of Paul, but remembered that I hadn't used my real name, opting for something more French instead.
I clicked the reply button and quickly wrote,
"To Mr. Franklin,
I promise to you that this is not for some silly school matter, but indeed for personal reference only.
Though I feel as though I should get to know you better before revealing my own seemingly un-believable past, there is no time for that now.
I myself had been in a coma two years previous, with a situation very much like yours."
I paused. How could it be that the first person I told about what happened during my coma would be a complete stranger? But if this Paul character holds the key to getting rid of Francois forever, I was content. I retold him my entire story, including what happened just yesterday, finishing up with…
"In conclusion, what I ask of you is simple. You seem to have researched this topic thoroughly, where as I have only started today, and I wonder if it is possible to bring back the people from the 'other side' back here to present time.
Hoping for an answer, Katey Douglas."
I sent it, and sat back, waiting.
After five long minutes, the reply came back…
"Dear Katey, or should I call you Fleur,
I have indeed met you before, as Ely Markus. I served as one of the fly men at the Opera House during my short stay.
It is indeed a pleasure to hear from a friend from Paris, but it is terrible to hear of your mishap with Francois. I remember all of the controversy after you disappeared from Don Juan, and I must admit I also accused Erik.
Now, about your question. Yes, I have researched on this quite a bit, speaking with former coma victims, and psychics and mediums on the possibility of bringing people back.
You will be pleased to know that it is indeed possible to have your friends come to this world, but they must be willing to come.
-Ely/Paul"
I licked my lips as I looked at the screen.
Well, this'll be fun getting Eric, Christine, Meg, and Madame Giry to come to the future where they're considered 'not there'.
Good thing Phantom of the Opera isn't at Dallas Fair Park or else it would be all over the radio and TV.
I grinned and flipped on my radio, my grin fading fast.
"And experience the Music of the Night at Dallas Fair Park. Call the box office of log online to get tickets today."
Damnit.
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There you are, ladies and possibly gentleman!
An extra long chapter just for having to make all of you lovelies.
Please review!