So on this day of lovers expected to spend money on each other and show each other affection, here is a story for you I wrote back when I was in my early 20s. If I can ever finish some short stories, I'll put these out as a collection, but for now, here it is for you for free.

Enjoy, or don't.

The Ties That Bind

Michael sat up, listening to a Gravity Kills CD he had recently acquired. It was almost 2:30 in the morning, and even though he had been up since noon, he wasn't really tired. He absentmindedly ran his hand through his shoulder length black hair, contemplating what to do.

He got up slowly and walked outside. Looking up at the stars, he thought about how once he had sat and looked at these stars with someone before, but that was long ago. He sighed solemnly, and went back in the house, grabbing a beer on the way through the kitchen.

He flinched quick, as he thought he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Flipping on the light, he saw nothing.

Man, he thought to himself, stop being such a paranoid fuck.

He went back to the living room, greeted by the wailing of Jeff's voice still playing on the stereo. Taking a Kamel Red out of his pack, he lit it, inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs, holding it momentarily, before slowly exhaling. Deciding against the beer, he placed it back in the fridge, and went to sit back down on the couch.

The house was dark, save a solitary lamp off to one corner of the living room. He started thinking about the way his mind had been corroding. Hallucinations were running rampant these days. Shadows here and there, unknown noises and the dreams.

The dreams.

The dreams fucked with him the most. Mainly because it wasn't disturbing images, or people dying, none of the shit people see in everyday nightmares. It was nothing. A void. Just empty space.

He had sat many days wondering what his mind did while he slept, and had yet to figure it out. He'd wake up many times feeling panicked and freaking out for no reason.

His thoughts drifted to the night he'd met Angela for the first time. They'd talked for hours about everything and nothing.

He sighed softly, a smile and a tear forming at the same time. That seemed like such a far away place these days.

Suddenly his thoughts drifted off to another time, another place. The day he watched Angela's life drain out of her. They had been having some problems they were trying to work out, and so they decided it best to separate. He finally got some of his shit together, but it was too late.

He went to see her, surprise her. However, when he arrived, he got there just in time to see her get shot. As he raced to get to her, he could sense it was already too late.

His mind flashed back to reality and heard Jeff's voice singing One Thing. He'd been out of it for some time, cause the CD had switched, and he didn't even hear it.

He looked to his side and nearly jumped when he saw Angela sitting next to him.

“Wha...” he started to ask, but his voice couldn't be found to finish the question.

Angela started to speak, but her lips didn't move.

How could you let this happen? Her voice spoke, as if directly in his mind.

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to say so much, but his voice wouldn't cooperate. He blinked, and she was no longer there, like she never had been.

Shit, he thought to himself, you're losing it.

He laid down on the couch, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. There was so much he wanted to know, so many questions he needed answers for, but knew he probably wouldn't get. As he lay there thinking, he drifted off to a dreamless sleep once more.......

* * * * *

Michael awoke with a start. The room as dark around him as it had been when he drifted off to sleep. His long hair fell down lazily as he slowly sat up. He took a cigarette out of his pack and lit it, inhaling the smoke deep, wondering if it would come out the other end. As he smoked, he thought about what had happened.

Had he dreamed her? Was she just a hallucination?

I never wanted you to get hurt, he thought to himself.

Kiss Off by Violent Femmes was playing through the speakers as he picked up the remote, pushing the next button till he heard the familiar voice of Ben Petry from Drop Shadow. He switched songs till heard the intro for Nothing Left, then put the remote back on the table.

Shit, I'm losing it, he thought. I'm talking to myself, seeing Angela, what the hell's going on?

He let the CD play and thought about what he was going to do. Slowly, he stood up grabbing some clothes, and went to take a shower.

The hot water didn't help him any because he couldn't stop thinking about the night Angela had died. He sat with her for several hours, hoping that she would make it out, but knowing she probably wouldn't. The bullet had pierced her lung and her heart, that's what the doctors said.

He got out of the shower, and got dressed. As he walked through the living room, he grabbed the stereo remote and changed the song to Unfamiliar. He tossed the remote aside and went in the laundry room, tossing his clothes on the floor.

You don't know how many times I've wanted to leave this world, or how I wish it had been me instead of you. Michael thought to himself, hoping Angela heard his words. Why did we have to end that way? We had so many plans. So much we wanted to do.

He sighed softly and walked back to the living room, collapsing on the couch. There wasn't much he really wanted to do anymore. Everything felt so mundane to him.

He looked out the window and realized the sun had come up. He must've let his mind wander a bit too much, as several hours must have passed.

He took out another cigarette and realized with great unease that he was going to have to go buy more in the near future.

He closed his eyes, thinking back to a shopping trip they had taken. They went down every aisle pointing out the things they'd need when they finally had a place of their own.

He sighed to himself again, because, sadly, that day would never come now. He opened his eyes and looked at the cigarette still burning away in his hand, almost gone now.

How long was I thinking about that stuff?

He got up slowly, grabbing his coat, readying himself to go outside. It wasn't that he didn't like going outside, it was more along the lines that he didn't like what he had to deal with. But that's what he got for living in a small hick town.

He slowly opened the front door, and stepped out on the front porch. He shut the door behind him without bothering to lock it. Why did his CD player have to be out of batteries? He'd meant to pick some up, but he kept spacing it.

He started the trek down the street, wishing he had a pair of shades to wear. It was only after about a half a block that the stupid shit began.

“You fucking faggot!” someone yelled out of their car window.

He just ignored them and kept walking. He was about a quarter of a block from the gas station when someone decided to lean out of the passenger window and spit on him.

How original, he thought, it's only happened about a million times before.

He found a Kleenex in his pocket and wiped the shit off.

When he arrived at the gas station, Michael looked around, surprised to find the place pretty empty. Maybe one or two other people and the lonely clerk were the occupants. Michael walked up to the counter getting his ID ready. He was almost 22 years old, and he still got carded. He thought it was kind of stupid.

“What can I get for you?” The clerk asked; his voice with a tinge of disinterest and annoyance.

The name tag said William, and Michael wasn't sure if he'd seen him here before or not.

“I need a pack of Kamel Reds,” Michael responded, handing William his ID before he could ask for it.

“$3.19,” William the Clerk said. “Lovely day isn't it?”

“Sure,” was all Michael said as he handed him the money and left.

The walk home was a little less annoying. He didn't really see anyone.

Dammit, I forgot the fucking batteries again. Michael cursed at himself.

He got back to the house, and Jeff was singing Take It All Away.

I don't remember leaving that on. Was the only thought to go through his head as he walked in.

He didn't bother turning it off. Instead he went in the kitchen and grabbed a wine cooler out of the fridge. He didn't know how they'd gotten there, but he wasn't going to turn it down either. Somehow his favourite kind had managed to work its way into his fridge. He wasn't complaining though.

He walked back to the living room and laid down on the couch. He grabbed a smoke, lit it, and then popped the top on the wine cooler. He almost passed out while lying there, but a sound got him up real quick.

He looked around trying to decipher what the noise was, and realized he was lying in a parking lot.

Am I dreaming? He asked himself as he looked around.

The surroundings started coming into focus, and he came to the stunning realization that he was at Angela's old job. Something didn't feel right. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten here nor what he was doing here. He felt a few drops of rain falling on his hair as he stood almost in a trance.

What the hell's going on?

He started going toward the building and saw a face all too familiar to him. It was the man who'd shot Angela.

As he was getting closer, he saw Angela walking out of the building. The man started walking toward her, his hands inside his black leather jacket.

Michael felt a scream rise up in his throat, but no sound came out. He started running toward her, hoping he could get there in time. As he got closer, he heard a conversation that he never heard before, but it was all too familiar to him.

“Hey pretty,” the man cooed at Angela.

“Hey,” she replied staring toward her car.

“What're you doing?” the man asked following her to the car.

“I'm going home,” she responded, picking up her pace.

“Really? Wanna have some fun?” the man behind her asked, keeping just one step behind her.

Michael knew what was going to happen next. The man took a step toward her, slamming her car door shut. He tried to kiss her and she slapped him hard across the face. That's when the guy pulled out a chrome plated .45, like the kind you'd see in some high budget action flick, and pointed it right at her.

Michael had finally caught up and slammed the guy as hard as he could in the shoulder, knocking him down.

“Who the fuck are you?” a stunned voice shouted at him.

“I'm her fiancée,” Michael heard himself reply, almost as if someone else was saying it.

“Well, Mr. Fiancée, you'd best be moving along if you know what's good for you.” the words floating from the man's mouth like the venom of a spitting cobra.

“Over my dead body.” was the only thing Michael could say.

“That can be arranged.” was the Man's reply, as he finally got back to his feet.

Michael stood in front of Angela, putting a barrier between the attacker and his prey. He wasn't going to let her get shot, nightmare or not.

“I'm not going to let you hurt her,” Michael's voice spoke, still sounding like it was emanating from somewhere, or someone, else.

“Oh, is that right?” Sneered the man.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, sounding like the party poppers for New Year's Eve, only a million of them at once. Michael realized it was the sound of the gun going off.

The first bullet pierced just below his ribcage. The second shot pierced his chest and went straight to his heart. The last shot went in near the center of his forehead, almost right between his eyes.

Michael felt as each bullet pierced his skin, and finally understood that everything was in his head. It's amazing how much time can pass in just a single second. He looked over at Angela as he started to fall.

The man ran off after hearing sirens. A life that would mean nothing without her would now be a life that would never exist.

“I told you I'd always find you,” his voice came out, barely a whisper, as he spoke. “The blood that bonds us together will last a lifetime.”

He looked at her, seeing her smile gently with tears in her eyes. Then the darkness that had consumed the mere seconds of time engulfed him and everything went black.

Fin

I believe I was 21 when I originally wrote this, so it was over a decade ago.

From the shadows,

Jonathon A. Crow
2012