Final Destination: Cheat it Once, Cheat it Twice

Chapter 4: The Shit Hits the Fan

Jamie and Umstel sit beside Tashonya in a taxi cab speeding down a lonely road. Jamie cradles Tashonya in his arms as Umstel gazes upon the hair stuck to Tashonya's sobbing, wet face. Tears trickle down Tashonya's cheeks, camouflaged by the rain blotted in a scatter on Tashonya's face.

JAMIE: Tashonya, it's not your fault.

TASHONYA: (slowly sniffling for air beneath her tears. After a short silence, she suddenly snaps with anger) Then whose fucking fault is it? I didn't even think to check on him…all he wanted was a picture…for me.

JAMIE: It's nobody's fault, Tashonya, we all just have to—

TASHONYA: I don't need your fantasy bullshit right now, Jamie. My boyfriend is dead. Just like— (she hesitates) Like Wanda…

Jamie turns his head away from Tashonya as glorious images of his late girlfriend's face begin to uncontrollably tiptoe through his thoughts. He thought of her smile, her laugh, her beautiful lips, her silky-smooth hair, her bedazzling eyes. Jamie fought a wad of tears. He turned back to face her.

JAMIE: We can get through this together. We can beat this.

TASHONYA: What are we going to beat?

Jamie stares in silence.

TASHONYA: Don't even drag yourself into my shit. Don't drag Umstel into my shit! I fucked up! That's it! I fucked up, and blaming it on some imaginary force is not going to make Quinton come back to me!

Tears raced down Tashonya's cheeks. She threw Jamie's arm off of her.

JAMIE: What are you doing?

Tashonya leaned forward.

TASHONYA: Driver, pull over.

JAMIE: Tashonya, don't do this. You need to come back with Umstel and I so we can—

TASHONYA: Fuck that! You've fucking lost it, Jamie, so stop trying to make me crazy too!

Tashonya leaps out of the car and runs down the sidewalk in the rain. Jamie starts to jump out after her. Umstel grabs his arm.

JAMIE: Umstel, what the fuck are you doing?

UMSTEL: Dude, let her go! You saw that we can't help her! She doesn't get it.

JAMIE: But there still may be time to save her…

UMSTEL: Maybe she doesn't want to be saved. Maybe…

Umstel reaches and begins to stroke Jamie's hand.

UMSTEL: Maybe she just wants to be with Quinton again.

Wierded out, Jamie yanks his hand away from Umstel's and shuts the door of the taxi.

JAMIE: Maybe you're right.

UMSTEL: Just let her do her thing.

JAMIE: Maybe she just needs some time to heal.

UMSTEL: My point exactly.

Tashonya walks into the hotel entrance. Numerous hotel guests and tourists stare at her soggy appearance as she drags herself across the lobby. Tashonya's expression reads "piss off". As she makes her way back to the room, visions of Quinton's muscular body and handsome smile hog her memories. She remembers the way he used to purr in her ear, the cologne that he always wore that turned her on. She remembers the way he used to smile at her at the movies or hold her hand just before the big drop on the rollercoaster. She tries to fight her tears, but even this proves to be a battle that she has lost. Tashonya enters the room and throws her umbrella onto the floor. She takes off her wet coat and throws it across the room. She sweeps a pillow off of her bed and hugs the pillow. Just like she will never get to hug Quinton again.

TASHONYA: I can't do this. Jamie was right. I can't live like this forever. I can't grieve over my losses.

Tashonya decides to do a little exercise to help keep her mind off of her dead boyfriend. She quickly changes out of her clothes. The clothes that she watched her boyfriend die in. And puts on a red nylon sweat suit that Quinton bought her for her nineteenth birthday, knowing that she likes to exercise. She grabs her room key out of her jeans and heads down hall to the exercise room on the mezzanine floor beside the pool.

Meanwhile, Umstel and Jamie have decided to get something to drink at Starbucks. They are seated at a table near the door. Umstel nervously stirs his caramel macchiato.

UMSTEL: Jamie, I have to tell you something.

JAMIE: (slurps his frappuccino) what's up?

UMSTEL: I have this…uh…friend who I really, really like.

JAMIE: Go on…

UMSTEL: And he's not really sure how to confront this person…

JAMIE: Mmhmm…

UMSTEL: And he's absolutely sure that this person probably doesn't…well, er…undoubtedly doesn't…well, then again…he, er, she…they don't…

JAMIE: Just follow your instinct.

UMSTEL: Pardon?

JAMIE: Your instinct. Your intuition. Remember that song by Jewel?

Jamie is in no mood to hum it.

UMSTEL: Well, yeah, but it… it's my friend we're talking about.

JAMIE: Umstel, I've seen the bullshit. I've read the horseshit. I've heard the cowshit. Don't play me. I'm not in the mood. If you want to talk, I'd be happy to give you advice, but don't front.

Umstel's face carries a bewildered expression.

UMSTEL: Okay, it's me. But I don't know how to confront him…err… her…

JAMIE: Well, like I said, just listen to your heart.

Umstel decides it's time to shut up. He curses himself under his breath and wonders why he lacks so much confidence. He sips his macchiato to find that it is a bit cold. He pops the lid off and peers inside. What he sees absolutely flabbergasts him. He sees, or at least, he thinks he sees a propeller, but a somewhat unique one formed but the froth in his drink. Even more bewildering is the small hole in the middle of the "blades" which might resemble a bolt in the middle, increasing to its overall resemblance to a fan-like object. What's more is that this image appears to be spinning. Umstel follows his instincts.

UMSTEL: Jamie…

JAMIE: Yeah?

UMSTEL: You'd better look at this…

Jamie's interest suddenly betrays his drink and focuses on Umstel's report.

JAMIE: What's the matter?

Jamie watches Umstel peer into his cup, speechless. He jumps out of his chair and rushes around the table.

UMSTEL: It's a fan.

JAMIE: Oh my God, Tashonya.

The boys dash out of Starbucks, almost breaking the door off of its hinge.

Tashonya, meanwhile, is inside of the exercise room, setting the treadmill. An unusual breeze sweeps through the room, even though the doors are shut. Tashonya snatches the remote off of a nearbly end table sloppily plunked in a corner. She turns the TV on and changes to CNN, where Bush is, yet again, babbling on about why we simply MUST go to war and making promises never to be kept.

Tashonya flips a switch nearby to her treadmill. A small, white fan about two meters behind Tashonya on the ceiling wakes with a jolt, and begins to lazily twirl, slowly at first, but then gradually faster until the fan bounces joyfully on its axis, its stem prairie-dogging the hole in the ceiling. After inserting the safety key into its slot, Tashonya sets the treadmill to a jogging pace and begins to adjust her steps to correlate with the rhythm of the machine. As time passes, she begins to grow sweatier and sweatier. Nevertheless, she continues to exercise. Wanting to feel even more burn, she increases the speed on the treadmill to six MPH. However, she does not realize that the quick steps that she is taking to keep up with the pace is causing the treadmill to rattle the walls and floor. She continues to run. The fan on the ceiling behind her is still bouncing around in its socket, causing the ceiling underneath to crack. As Tashonya continues to jog on the machine, she continues to rattle the fan loose, until bits of the ceiling begin breaking away from underneath the fan. As she continues to run, parts of the plaster ceiling crumble away until the fan and all of its wires are fully exposed. Screws and bolts fly from the ever-loosening fan, and, soon, the fan is just supported by the wires, which begin to snap, on by one. Tashonya notices the dust from the falling plaster and presses the STOP button on the treadmill, leaving the safety key still in its slot. As she turns around, the fan, now whirring out of control, detatches from it's last cord. Electricity sparks from it's cords as the fan launches itself toward Tashonya's face.

Tashonya, luckily, ducks before the fan connects with her head, ending her life. The fan continues its deadly path and is embedded in the wall near the bottom of the treadmill, one of its blades sticking out of the wall. A frightened Tashonya stares at the window of the exercise room and sees Jamie and Umstel shouting frantically to get her attention. Tashonya is breathing hard, but not because of the strenuous exercise. Relieved to see their faces out of all of the excitement, Tashonya reaches up to grab a hold of the machine in order to stand up. However, she accidentally presses the 10 MPH button, activating the treadmill's highest speed.

The treadmill obeys since the safety key is still engaged, and launches Tashonya forward. Tashonya's head comes into full contact with the fan stuck in the wall, and the blade impales her in the skull, right between her eyes. Jamie and Umstel watch in horror as the treadmill continues to force the fan's blade deeper into Tashonya's skull, until the metal blade can be seen working its way out of Tashonya's head through the back. In effort to obey its commands, the treadmill gives one more launch forward, causing a crack to be heard from Tashonya's skull. Blood gushes out of her nose, mouth, and the crack in her skull. A picture falls out of Tashonya's pocket. Now both Quinton and Tashonya's faces are bloodied in horror, in eternal love…

in eternal death.