Her heavy eyelids slowly opened up filled up with exhaustion and weakness. Her vision was blurry. She could barely recognise the pale colours spreading across the room. A room she had never seen before or acknowledged as familiar. She blinked a couple of times and it slowly got better. There wasn't anything for her to see but a vast yellowish wall standing at the front, proving the miserable vibes this place radiated.
She cleared her throat and the pain was awful. A pain that she couldn't really acknowledge the source of it. Every single muscle on her body was in sizzling pain. She clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut. Where was she anyway? A soft moan escaped her well shaped lips in annoyance and desperation. The room was awkwardly silent, and no matter how hard she tried to turn her head around she couldn't.
There was something in the way. She crossed her eyes trying to focus on the transparent object that appeared to be entering her nose. A tube. Something was wrong... she thought to herself. The feeling of immobilization made her heart clench inside her chest and the dreadful headache drew a pout on her lips. She wanted to scream. Scream for help but no matter how many times she tried to force her vocal chords to create a sound she failed. A raspy groan was the only thing her system allowed her to produce.
She had to think. Every single memory she had in her head was fuzzy. The last thing she could recall was that woman. Or maybe that pair of glowing dazzling blue eyes looking at her filled up with rage and warning. That was enough for her to feel her body shiver underneath the pair of fluffy cotton yellowish blankets covering her thin figure. She was in an ally... or was that really correct? She could recall the notes of an old time favourite jazz song entering her ears while the darkness of the night was covering the area she was standing at. She couldn't see much.
But she clearly remembered the agonising pressure she could feel on her chest back then. She was obviously nervous. Nervous for what? She asked herself and swallowed hard. She pushed herself to think harder, to concentrate on the vivid colour of that crimson coloured dress the familiar figure was wearing. Her brain wouldn't allow her to keep running through the memories she had collected from that night. Apparently the last thing she could recall was the sight and the feeling of the cold street. As soon as she fell her eyelids were forcing her to go to sleep.
She had tried. She had put an extreme amount of effort to stay awake and focus on the relaxing notes coming from the inside of that still unknown place. Blackness followed. The terrifying black sheet covered her and forced her to go to sleep, until the notes turned into a ballyhoo. Someone was crying out for help. But it wasn't the woman in red. It was a man's voice. A voice she had no record of it in her brain. She ignored it. She preferred the soothing sound of the instruments playing that soon got interrupted by loud sirens. Sirens that made her wanna scream.
It was only then that she had realised that something was off. Her ataraxia got ruined but it was already way too late to cavil about it because her eyelids were way too heavy by then. She could no longer keep her brain awake. She was tired. She was tired and cold...
She pressed her lips together and panic slowly took over. It was about time. Her face was now contorted with alarm and apprehension and her breathing hitched. Her dark orbs widened open as the feeling of suffocation joined the club making the oxygen floating around the room seem inadequate and warm. She was gonna burst and she was determined to stay awake this time and fight it but the threatening tears flooding her enchanting eyes were saying otherwise. She had to focus! She had to focus on something and relax. Unfortunately the only relaxing technique she knew required ten fingers to count or a bottle of a 10 year old Laphroaig Islay Malt scotch.
Thank the god she was lucky when a loud yell echoed in the room and managed to push her thoughts away by startling her. It definitely didn't come out of her but the very name that still buzzed in her ears was her own. Rita... she repeated through gritted teeth and sighted in despair.
"Please somebody call a doctor in here! She's awake!"
The delicate voice screeched again in agony and rushed by her side landing on the white stool. As soon as she made sure her dress was laying smoothly on her feet she gave the brunette's hand a strong and reassuring squeeze.
"Rita! Rita please look at me! Oh thank god you are awake!"
The mysterious woman croaked and bit her bottom lip in terror. She stood up and placed both of her hands on top of Rita's burning cheeks cupping them smoothly like she was the most fragile creature.
Her touch was so warm and kind that made her heart beat ease up until it was steady and strong again. She narrowed her dark orbs focusing on the petite figure standing above her. A woman around 5'6" feet tall was looking at her with her big almond sea blue eyes which implied relief. A broad and radiating smile appeared on her face making her light facial characteristics shine as her eyes locked on Rita's as well.
"Can you hear me? Rita?"
She repeated her name once again and her voice was finally becoming more reassuring and cheerful.
"Grace..."
It finally hit her. The name she had been trying to recall for the last couple of seconds exited her lips naturally making the other woman nod her head in agreement.
"Yes that's me! How are you feeling?"
Reality had finally surrounded her and burst the bubble she had been trapped in for god knows how much time she was lost in her chaotic thoughts.
"How am I... "
Her voice faded away as she tried to sit upright but her body protested against that idea. Her hand landed mechanically on top of her stomach smoothly until she realised that there was something pressed on her smooth satin skin.
Her dark brows furrowed and her lips formed a perfect O. No sound came out. She was still processing. Her eyes landed on the area her fingers were palpating when she finally noticed a bunch of bloody bandages and gauzes surrounding her stomach and back.
"These need to be changed. Do not worry my dear, I've already informed the doctors. You are in good hands."
The blond woman said and tacked a stray of black hair behind Rita's ear.
"How... how did that happen to me?"
Her voice came out harsh and smoky after a big amount of effort. Every time she spoke she could feel a transparent knife piercing her flesh and penetrate her muscles aggressively. She winced and almost chocked on her own saliva.
"Don't you remember?"
Grace lifted an eyebrow obviously surprised and knitted her arched brows together in confusion.
"That woman... Did she do this to me?"
She continued.
"Oh goodness it was absurd! I had noticed that becoming president of our garden club had become an awful obsession to her but I never imagined that she was capable of such a violent act!"
Grace reacted in a high pitched voice and her mesmerising blue eyes widened open in surprise as she finished her phrase and looked at her friend snootily.
"Just wait till you check out all these despicable articles about her on the newspaper. Mavis called me as soon as she read them all and she has saved a copy for you to read! Alma Filcot is in so much trouble!"
"Wait! I... Please slow down, my head is not comprehending so many details all at once. I don't understand... she..."
She was exhausted. She hadn't even managed to finish her sentence but she was already exhausted. Grace's words sounded like an annoying squeaky sound in her head until the final two words rang a bell. Her eyes widened open and her face turned deadly serious. The sound of her name... Alma Filcot... she repeated again through gritted teeth and her fingers rushed to squeeze the blanket in her fists aggressively.
That peckerheaded bitch! The images were finally clear and beyond graphic! A wave of new informations intruded her brain like a tsunami flooding her brain and making her eyes darken in fury and pain. That woman had the audacity to walk into her life and steal every single thing from her! She was alone. Alone in the world because of her... because of Alma fucking Filcot!
"Where is she?"
She clenched her jaw and jerked out in a dangerously low voice tone. Grace pressed her lips together trying to show compassion. She always felt sympathy for Rita. She knew that under that horrifyingly cold mask she had been once wearing that there was a big dose of humanity in her and of course a bunch of reasons why she turned into the heartless creature she was.
Although Grace was never a huge fan of Rita's mind games and sarcasm she was still able to show some empathy for that woman. As soon as the rumours spread around town and between the members of the garden club while Rita was in jail she was able to connect the pieces. Unfortunately she didn't have the opportunity to ask for details but Rita Castillo prostituting her body for money? She could have seen that coming... there was not a single woman in this club that was any more innocent than the rest of them. Everyone has secrets, and some of them should been taken to the grave.
Now the reason why miss Grace Berk was sitting in that filthy hospital instead of organising playgroups, receptions or even better getting her golden hair done wasn't the fact that she felt bad for Rita's past. It was the change... it was the change she saw in those heavenly beautiful dark orbs that she witnessed at the train station. Rita Castillo had been always identified as the symbol of beauty and passion by every single person that had the pleasure to meet her.
She had the ability to draw attention with not even a flinch of her hand. All she had to do was sway those well curved hips and put on her garishly colourful and filled up with diamonds clothing. But even back then... she wasn't human. She was far from human. And that wasn't something that actually inspired Grace. What made her look at that woman differently was that day outside the train station like I said. She was so simple. No extravagant clothes and jewellery this time. Just a brown stylish dress that hugged her body perfectly and a classic low bun hairstyle that allowed her eminent facial characteristics to show off. Her eyes were mirroring her soul. She looked so vulnerable but powerful at the same time. And Grace couldn't help but admire that.
It was the era that everyone had to put their masks on. You can call it copying mechanism or else guidance to survival. Unfortunately whoever wasn't wealthy enough, or recognised enough wouldn't be able to overcome the strict "rules" that the 1949's society had formed back then. It was very hard to get advanced on the social pyramid, and once you did it was even harder to stay on the top. You see... everyone would rush to pull you back down, and your battle would turn into war.
That kind of war looked so appealing and beneficial that made everyone wanna join. But once you enter that side of the pyramid you gain enemies. But you know what I always say? You're never successful enough if don't have a bunch of foemen competing you and trying to end you. People such as Rita Castillo needed the recognition. Don't even get me started with miss Alma Filcot and her beloved dead husband. But life always has a plan. Life is capable of making your wildest dreams come true just so it gets the satisfaction of ruining every single one of it when the time comes. And that happens to avaricious people who start from the bottom, end up on the top and forget their routes. They totally forget the hard journey they had to endure back then and that makes them greedy. Greedy and evil.
"She's behind bars and I heard that she earned the golden ticket of the death penalty and a bunch of beautiful bold headlines on the newspaper describing her as the most well known murderer in the United States."
Grace replied softly but a dose of satisfaction was obviously included on the alloy of mixed feelings she had.
"She killed Isabelle! She killed Carlos! She..."
Rita began to say but Grace placed her fingers in front of her fruity lips to hash her.
"I'm awfully sorry for your loss but at least she did you a favour with Carlos! Sooner or later you would be trying to come up with a mastermind plan to kill him as well. She bought you some time with her ruthless actions."
"Are you kidding me Grace?"
She barked and took a deep breath as her eyes glimmered with hatred.
"She put me behind bars, humiliated me, ruined my reputation and took away the one person I loved! She made me look guilty..."
She fiddled her thumbs on her lap and bowed down her head in defeat. Alma had definitely won this match. There was no way she would walk out of this hospital and face these people again. These people didn't care about her after all. They only cared about her money that she no longer had, and her fame that she no longer had either. There was nothing left for her in California...
She took an exasperated breath and Grace placed her hand on her shoulder sympathetically with a small pout on her lips.
"You're lucky you're alive, cause none of this would matter if she had taken your life away as well."
She continued with a scolding look on her face.
Maybe Rita Castillo should start appreciating life and what she had a little bit more. She never did. She grew up in a very poor family and even if she had experienced the torments of belonging in the bottom she never did anything to help when she reached the top back on her glorious days. She had totally forgotten the meaning of family. And Isabelle was proof of that. So maybe that was her second chance. Her second chance to make a big choice. But before that time arrives there was a huge question in the middle. What was next?
"This is correct... Where's Scooter?"
She asked and her eyes saddened at the very thought of that very well known person. Her gigolo...
"You mean Scooter Polarsky?"
"You know him in person?"
Rita furrowed and small wrinkles covered her forehead as she grimaced.
"I know his wife..."
Grace admitted and looked at Rita in confusion.
Her jaw almost dropped down to her knees. He got married? It's not that she ever believed that Scooter would ever be mature enough to give her something except an intense orgasm but the very idea that he moved on so quickly broke her heart. Did she really mean nothing to people here? She almost travelled all the way to other side while people were moving on giving no shit. But wait a damn minute? How long was she asleep in this place?
"Her name is Annabetha Madden. She is part of our garden club now and she got to know Scooter at one of our receptions. She's pretty well known in this town. Her dead husband used to be a shipowner."
"Yeah I'm pretty sure she drown him inside his own ship. Maybe she was the one driving the titanic as well. I wouldn't be impressed."
An eye roll followed her sentence as she crossed her hands carefully under her chest.
"I don't want a reading of her resume or biography Grace! For how long have I been staying here?"
"It would be almost seven months."
"Seven months?!? I was asleep for seven months?"
She repeated and her voice was louder now. Louder and more stern.
"I wouldn't call it sleep... it sounds more like a comma. The doctors said you lost lots of blood... and apparently we saw it live on Alma's fur."
"And when did he even get the time to get married that soon?"
Rita asked.
"As much as I remember you didn't waist a second when Carlos proposed. I guess some people think that money bring happiness into a marriage."
Rita rushed to roll her eyes at Grace's words and looked away. Her eyes roamed the room filled up with disgust. She was again all alone and even her own gigolo had officially left her.
"Very well..."
She sighted.
"So what's for me now? Are they even gonna let me leave this hovel?"
"As soon as you are healthy I don't see any reason why you should stay here!"
"And go where? Apparently I don't have any money considering that I spent every single penny I had for that stupid ticket for New York and my former house is ruled by that not so innocent nun called Catherine."
She exclaimed in desperation and Grace remained silent. She fiddled her thumbs together creating a weird sound with her nicely done red nails. She narrowed her eyes until a slight smirk lit up her eyes as she glared at Rita.
"I have a house. I'm renting an apartment in the centre of the town for my own personal reasons... I guess I could ask my... friend if you could stay there for some time until you're healthy enough and ready to start over. After all, I don't think I'm gonna visit that place for some time. I... I used to use it for my own purposes... such as the need of having a quite space to write..."
She cleared her throat.
"So you write?"
Rita smirked and looked at Grace hopefully.
"I write, I knit... you can call it whoever you want. I can bring you the keys tomorrow morning."
Grace replied and bit her bottom lip.
"What about your friend? I don't want to create any tensions between you two."
"You let me handle that part and please accept my offer."
"You have no idea how much that means to me Grace..."
"I do."
"Why are you helping me?"
Rita croaked and there was it again. Grace was again able to see the vulnerable woman hiding behind that cold mask. She was there. She had been always there but Rita was way too brilliant at hiding it.
"Because you proved to me that people can change. Watching the wolf turning into a ship is quite an unexpected plot twist Rita. I know you went through a lot. That doesn't justify what you did, and how you treated people but everyone deserves a second chance."
She gave her friend a warm smile and their faces softened. Rita threw her head back on the pillow as a couple of crystal clear tears rolled down her rosy cheeks leaving a path of gloopy tear stains behind.
Her heart warmed and she couldn't even remember the last time she felt that feeling giving her hope.
"Thank you! Thank you Grace."
She mouthed in a low trembling voice that threatened to break as the other woman returned the warm beam and walked outside as her pink dress floated around her thin waist.
-12:30AM same day-
Her black heels clicked against the tiles of the dark ambulatory showing for once again how committed and determined she was for her decision. She had spent the last seven months at home surrounded by her own loneliness and grief. No matter how many times she had tried to pick up the pieces of her darkening heart she couldn't put them back in the right place. Something had broken inside her last night... maybe it was her trust for humanity and goodness but that wasn't of course an excuse for what she did.
She kept looking for a sign. A sign that would let her know that her mastermind plan was gonna work out this time. People say that when an unfortunate event happens In life it always has a specific goal. To make us stronger as human beings and train us for the worst case scenario. Humans are powerful creatures driven by their feelings and logic who are in constant war with each other. Once they put their minds onto something disaster is approaching. She laid her hands on top of the thick fabric of her pencil skirt as she finally stood outside of the transparent glass that was separating the two rooms.
Her plan was risky but thank the god the phenomenon of bureaucracy had bought her some time. Alma was supposed to have been executed seven months ago but instead of dying she was rising gloriously inside that nasty cage blinded by her own demons. She tapped the glass with her finger firmly and waited for the familiar figure to stand across her. She looked around the area... no one was there. She had paid a very generous amount of money in order to do this privately without any barbs eavesdropping her conversations.
A couple of seconds passed that felt like an eternity when Alma Filcot made her way into the booth and looked at the mysterious woman filled up with surprise and fear. A small smile creeped at the corners of her mouth but she was smart enough to retain the numb mask covering her face. She looked like a mess. A very mentally unstable and evil mess. Her brunette curls were laying on top of her shoulders messily and what she was wearing or should I say demanded to wear was the most bizarre thing about her. That red dress. That crimson coloured red dress was now surrounding her body looking a little creased and dirty.
But she looked proud in it.
"You asked to see me?"
Alma forced a weak smile and asked in a delightful British accent.
"Yes I did. I feel like you and I have many things to talk about."
The raspy voice returned in a very sharp accent.
"Such as?"
She was pushing her luck. But thank the god that transparent glass was her full protection.
"You killed my father."
She exclaimed.
"And you must be Catherine..."
Alma took a step back instinctively and brought her hand up close to her diamond necklace. Her fingers played with the small marbles awkwardly as her ice blue eyes roamed the room seeking for a police officer or someone that could stop the unpredictable.
Although Alma had been trying her best to hide it fear covered her face and guilts. After all, all she was trying to do was frame Rita. Catherine was never her enemy. She was pretty much the outside in the story.
"No need to be afraid. What happened to my papa was dreadful but that wicked wife of his was planning to end him anyway. You were faster. You see, I do not approve criminals, especially the person's that took my papa's life away. But considering that I can not hurt you I can only take advantage of your skills. I am here because I need your help."
Catherine finally admitted and a mischievous smile covered her face making her eyes darken.
"I doubt I can offer you my services."
Alma replied and bit her lips nervously.
"And why is that?"
Catherine returned with a blaze sight.
"Looks like I retired..."
"Then I have a question."
Catherine smirked and leaned closer to the glassy "wall" to take a firmer look of the thick woman in red across her.
"What would that be?"
Alma forced a broad smile.
"What would you say if I got you out of here?"
She rattled and placed her hand on the glass leaving a mark of foggy fingerprints.
"Are you willing to release the woman who killed your father?"
"Like I said, if I hurt you I'll wind up in jail, and my aspirations are bigger than spending a life behind these rusted bars. That leaves no choice than making you my partner in crime."
"Your partner? You want to kill someone?"
Alma's eyes widened open and this time it wasn't surprise. It was anticipation and lust.
"Yes I do, and I do believe that we are on a common ground. I have a very specific person in mind Miss Filcot and this time you shall end things the way you should have."
"I think I'm gonna pass... look at me. Why would I put my life in danger for your risky plan when I'm so happy behind these rusty bars? I have fans! My name is echoing inside these walls and everyone trembles! Here I have respect! I rule and people do not treat me like a worm! My say is more valid!"
She spitted out each word filled up with passion but her eyes were raging with hatred and misery for her past. The woman she was had died ages ago. It died the night she put her husband and daughter aside and dedicated her life into her main purpose. Revenge. Revenge and the sheering will to strive at her goals.
"What does the name Rita Castillo says to you miss Filcot?"
Catherine asked again and crossed her hands under her chest. Her caramel eyes narrowed and pierced Alma's body filled up with determination and devastation.
"Are you planning to let her get away? What would you say if I could give you your freedom, money and recognition with the only rule to help me kill Rita Castillo!"
Alma raised her eyes and looked at her in shock. That name... it was triggering so many nerves inside her body. Every time someone mentioned it her body tensed and her brain flipped. The blood would boil inside her veins torturing her.
"Are you?"
She replied entirely hypnotised.
"Not if you accept my offer."
Catherine continued.
"After all, you owe me an apology after killing my beloved papa."
Alma nodded her head with a sardonic smile covering her features. She was in. She was so in. Rita Castillo was like a bad itch. A bad itch that she needed to scratch so badly but her hands were tied up. And now Catherine showed up and finally gave her a cause to fight for again.
"How are you planning to proceed?"
"First I need to tell my lawyer to get you out of here. It won't take long. Apparently people who have as much money as I have rule and overcome the system. And you are a lucky girl to have me around. Friends with money are always useful."
Catherine winked and pressed her palm against the glass were Alma had placed her own as well. Her body shivered in anticipation! She couldn't wait.
"Then I will be waiting for your move and after that we think."
"Be careful. Every move has to be accurate this time. We are gonna call this mission: why women kill and I don't accept failure. I'll be back here tomorrow morning with my lawyer. You better keep your mouth shut and pretend to be a saint. You're good at acting anyway so I'm counting on you. Use your broadest and sweetest smile Miss Filcot!"
"I won't disappoint you."
"You better. I do not forgive and show mercy anymore."
Catherine finished her phrase and turned around to
walk back from where she came from. It was gonna be a long and bloody journey this time... and god knows how many disappointments and terrifying events were planning to follow. Maybe it's about time they all learned how is it to fight your own demons...
-TO BE CONTINUED
Alright so first chapter is ready. As soon as I finished watching the show I couldn't help. I had to give it a different ending or should I say a new beginning. So that's pretty much what I have for now, but stay alert cause I'll be back with moreď¸ please comment your opinions.
Also you can find me on Instagram as parrillasexbomb or you can even find me on the as parrillasexbomb again!