Jet Black Heart

A man with his throat opened stands too close to Max’s left shoulder, fingers twitching like he’s trying to remember how to smoke. A woman sits on the arm of the couch; her eyes fixed somewhere behind Max’s ribs. There are others. Too many to count without starting to feel sick. Donnie always does his best to block them out and avoid eye contact with them. He isn't always successful because there are truly just so many of them, he can rarely find a safe spot to rest his eyes. So, he finds it best to keep his eyes on Max's eyes or somewhere he knows he won't be met with death.

The dead don’t accuse. The dead don’t beg. They just… wait.

Max drops into the chair across from Donnie like this is any other night. Like he isn’t carrying a graveyard in his wake. “You look like hell,” he says. Donnie snorts. “Occupational hazard.” Donnie keeps his eyes on his coffee because if he looks at them too long he will start seeing patterns, and patterns always lead to questions he doesn't want answers to. But tonight, he doesn't get the luxury of pretending. Something in Donnie's chest tightens. That familiar pressure. The one that means ignoring this will cost someone something later.

Donnie exhales slowly. “Max.” the air gets tighter and Max looks up. Donnie can feel his eyes burning into him. “What?” Donnie finally lets his eyes wander to meet with Max's eyes. “There is more to the story than you are telling me.” The dead stir. Max stiffens like Donnie just reached out and stuck Max with something sharp. “What story?” Max says, too fast. Donnie glances past him again. A man kneels on the floor now, palms pressed flat like he’s bracing against a fall that is never ending.

“Yours Max.. Your story..” Donnie say quietly. Max scoffs, pushing up from the chair. “You don’t get to do this, Donnie. Not with whatever psychic crap you’ve got going on.” “I don’t want to” Donnie says. And God, he meant it.  “I never want to but I have to..” Max begins to pace. Donnie watches a woman flinch every time Max turns, like she’s afraid he’ll see her. “I see this stuff everywhere” Donnie continues. “Hospitals. Alleys. Old houses. Literally everywhere..” Donnie swallows and takes a deep breath then clenches his jaw before biting his lip and shaking his head slightly. “But Max it doesn’t follow people. Not like this. Not like every time I see you..”

Max stops moving. He is so still yet shaky all at once. His eyes gleam and sparkle with tears that want to fall but his eyes just turn this reddish pink fighting them away. The room goes very still. “How many?” Max asks. Donnie closes his eyes for half a second. “Enough that I stopped counting..” Max's breath hitches. “They can’t talk, right?” Donnie shakes his head “No.” “Good.” Max's voice cracks anyway. “Then they can’t tell you I didn’t know. That I was a kid. That I thought my parents were just…” Max's words fade like a thought lost. He doesn't finish he just hangs his head in what looks like shame. Max opens his mouth, then close it. This isn’t Max's confession to give and Donnie can see it.

“They’re not here because of something you did, Donnie says quickly. Max turns on Donnie with anger. “Then why are they here?!” Donnie stands. Slowly. Like approaching a wounded animal. “Because you’re alive, and they aren’t. And somehow, that makes you the closest thing they have to an ending.” Max shoves past Donnie. Just a raw reflex. His shoulder clips Donnie's and the ghosts ripple through him like smoke in water. “I didn’t ask for this” Max snaps. “I know” Donnie says, louder than he meant to. Max freezes and Donnie steps closer, his voice softer now. “None of us ever do Max.” Donnie notices Max's hands curl into fists. He raises one like he might hit the wall, or Donnie, or himself — and then his hand just drops. The woman on the couch leans forward, like she’s listening. Like she knows something important is happening. Donnie feels something twist behind his ribs.

“They’re not angry” Donnie tells him his voice soft with comfort. Max laughs, hollow. “You don’t know that.”  Donnie shook his head and put his hand on Max's shoulder “I do. Anger is loud. This?” Donnie's hands gesture helplessly. “This is just unfinished.” Max finally looks at Donnie, really looks. Their eyes locking and Donnie can see Max soften a bit before muttering “So what do I do?” The dead lean in. “You live,” Donnie says with a small smile. “You live well. You choose kindness when it would be easier not to. You make room for joy even when it feels like theft..” Max shakes his head. “That doesn’t fix anything.” “No But it keeps the story from ending in the same place. While we figure out a way together to make them move on so you don't have to carry all this dead weight with you where ever you go.”

Life was mundane. Life left me feeling desolate and cut off from the world.I was completely disconnected and wandered through it without a single care in the world. I did my routine. I sleuthed with the best of them diving into mysteries seeking a thrill but not even the face of horror could shake me or bring any amount of excitement into my life. Lock me in a coffin? I pull out my lighter and stare darkness in the face. I do not flinch because it’s just another tuesday. Just another tuesday I say because I’m always getting into messes. Messes that I can never seem to clean up. They are endless. They are overwhelming. I seek them out more than I reach for a bag of snacks. Which I do not say lightly because boy do I enjoy a good snack. Sometimes I do not seek it because they have found me instead. They say Danny, Danny boy dive into the rabbit hole and find the answers. So I dive into the hole and I dig it deeper, so deep I don’t even know where the light is any more. I’m obsessive and impulsive. I do not think before I speak my words just vomit that spills from my lips. I ask questions that get me beat from time to time but I don’t mind the pain because I lit a fire in them and that fire leaves a trail. That trail leads to information and the information leads me toward the light. Even when the mystery is solved and my obsessive hunger has been fed I still feel empty. The eagerness to find my next hole to fall down is lingering in the back of my mind but each hole I fall into seems to make my world seem a little less light. Like the darkness clings to my soul not wanting to let go.

 I stare aimlessly from my table out at the frosted window of this mom and pop diner that I enjoy so much. My vision is unfocused because when I think I believe the blur makes me think clearer. The bell chimes and my vision slowly becomes clearer. I see her blonde hair flutter from the gust of wind that followed her in. The door shuts and her eyes gleam. God do they shine. They are bright and I swear she’s looking right at me. I can feel my lips part slightly as if I’m a cartoon and it’s wired in my DNA to let my jaw drop but not only is my mind in shock from the mere vibe of this girl but it seems my whole body seems to be malfunctioning. What is this? Who is she? I need to know her because if her presence is this life shattering then how breathtaking would it be to hear her laugh or just hear her say my name. I bet she speaks and her words sound like poetry. Her eyes. Just her eyes, those icy blues mixed with.. Is that green? They’ve sent me into a mind warp and I don’t understand what the deal is. I’m gloomy and brooding. I don’t ponder about a girl or malfunction in their presence, this is not me. I am not mush. Yes women are beautiful mysterious creatures but my mind is always on the next mystery to solve and they are mysteries I can never solve. My mind is on the next horror that plagues this town on hell hill. I do not lose focus. I will  not lose focus but.. I wonder what her movie is? 

I wonder if she prefers burgers over salads. Does she enjoy a book to take the edge off the depression that is always in the air? My mind rushes into a million questions that I want to ask her. I suddenly realize for once in what feels like a million years. I feel awake. I feel alive. I feel that rush of adrenaline coursing through me. My heart is sinking to the pit of my stomach. Her eyes connect with mine and she notices me noticing her. The left corner of her lips just curves in this I see you grin. I’m embarrassed. I’ve been caught staring like some creeper. My eyes divert to my half eaten burger. They call her name but the door opens and that stupid chime. That stupid chime covers it perfectly. I gained the courage to look up one last time. My teeth are now tugging at my bottom lip nervously. I catch one last look at the mystery girl as her back pushes against the door with her order in one hand and drink in the other. She flashes me this soft smile but doesn’t show teeth. Her brows give a slight jerk upward before she’s gone. Does my mind play tricks on me? Was this a daydream due to my lack of sleep? Do I dare fall down a rabbit hole that leads to a name and answers to all the questions I have for her. My mind races in a million directions but I’m a believer in fate and this is the best food in town. She’ll be back. Our paths will cross because what is meant to be will be. I just really hope she’s meant for me. 

Is it possible to never have met someone to not even know their name but to stay up for days thinking about them? Cue obsessive personality traits here because I obviously have them and it’s never been truer than this moment. I’ve come to this stupid booth that I sat in six weeks ago and first saw your face. I come to it everyday and I wonder when you’re going to walk through that door. Call me a hopeless romantic? But I believe in fate. At least I think I do? Because when you think about the world being filled with billions of people and there being someone out there for you how can you not believe that fate will bring that someone to you? That is how it works right? Or have I just watched too many movies? This is why I am single despite the obsessive drive I have for my work that takes up the majority of my time; it is my hopeless romantic side that just banks on that theory of fate. 

I do not come here just for her but because this is my spot. This is my booth where I come to ponder things and enjoy the occasional burger. This place is my dojo away from home. I research. I write. I eat. All in this lovely diner and this stupid booth with the tear in the seat that I always seem to forget not to sit on. I write my notes on my current investigation. ‘Teens of hill hell turn 180’ The youth at hell hill high have seem to give up rebellion and have all taken an interest in actually applying themselves to their grades. Isn’t that an odd thought kids of today not rebelling as we all did in high school and actually showing interest in things such as study groups. Now for the average person this would just be a good article boosting the youth and its growth into mature themes, but the catch is there have also been reports of them coming off extremely aggressive. Numerous reports of violent lash outs in public over things that seem harmless. One teen seems to completely lose his shit over the mere thought of making out with his girlfriend in the parking lot. This resulted in a mental breakdown, and they shipped him off to some psych ward two hundred miles out. Weird? I’d say there's no question there is more to this story and it has piqued my interest. 

The chiming of the diner door causes my head to jerk up. My thoughts of this new found mystery that might not seem like much to the average eye are completely blank. WHY? Because I automatically assume that chime is related to her. The girl with a smile that rings in the back of my thoughts constantly. It’s like she is haunting me from beyond and saying come find me but I am not one to chase a girl. A mystery I will chase all day into the night with zero respect for my sleeping schedule but for a girl.. Lets just say I’ve learned to never chase after a girl because it never results into what your heart hopes for. I sigh deeply as my eyes just catch Bob, the regular that comes in everyday for his usual dose of cherry pie. Must be five thirty already or else  he is early, which bob never breaks his pie cycle. 

In my utter disappointment I grab my journal and throw a tip on the table. I walk out the front door and the chime rings again signaling my departure but triggering the memory of your smile that distracts my brain once again. That is when a collision happens. That is when fate literally slams to souls together and by literally, I mean literally. I ran into her. I completely knocked her on her ass. There she was against the cold pavement with her blonde hair slightly covering her face. She uttered her first words to me “What the fu ck” and I smiled in disbelief but also being who I am I couldn’t help but laugh. Fate is a cruel joke. Fate said you want to meet her well; your first impression is not going to go well sir. I will say this as I stated in my assumption her words though they were ‘what the fu ck’ in fact did sound like poetry coming out of her mouth.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t see you.” my laughter had faded at this point but my smile was still very much tacked on my face. My hand reached out to hers and she took it willingly. I helped her to her feet but I noticed that not only had I knocked her down but I had also managed to throw whatever she was carrying with her before our worlds collided everywhere. I go to pick it up and so does she. Once again fate playing games with me. Our heads bump together and now we are both in a bit of pain. She has a hard head. That's when the air fills with her laugh. The only way to describe it is that she has the laugh that makes you laugh. We were back on our feet and were exchanging our things. She smiles that smile that I’ve committed to memory. Her fingers are brushing through her hair in an attempt to fix it. I’m staring endlessly trying to capture the details of her before our moment is up.  

Her face forms this odd facial expression, one that expresses realization like a light bulb has just flickered on. “You’re the guy. The staring guy” My eyes shut and my cheeks are flushed at this point. I feel like my whole body is on fire and I’ve truly never felt more embarrassed than I feel right this second. “ Yeah I would be that guy.. But in my defense you’re hard not to stare at. I mean that in the most non creepy way though if that is possible. I’m Danny by the way.” I am batting zero and I feel as if I am striking out horribly. “Well creep. I mean Danny. I’m Mackenzie.” Her voice trails as she begins to walk backward. “That is all I get just a name? Not even a last name?” Her smile is devilish but highly cute as she continues in the opposite direction of me. 

“The rest you have to work for. It’s a challenge.”

The party was a blast, with everyone dressed in elaborate costumes and playing games like beer pong and Uno. Lee and Alex were in their element, laughing and dancing with their friends, enjoying being surrounded by the people they loved.

But as the night wore on, Lee and Alex found themselves drawn to each other. They snuck away from the party and made their way to a secluded spot where they could enjoy the stars together one last time. As they lay in each other's arms, they knew that this moment was perfect.

They made love under the stars, their passion burning bright against the backdrop of the dying world. But as they lay there, the grim reaper appeared before them, his dark cloak billowing in the cold night air.

"I have come to collect you both" he intoned, his voice like the sound of a thousand whispers.

Lee and Alex looked at each other, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that their time was up. But they held hands, finding solace in the fact that they were together until the very end.

A moment of silence took over once again as their milkshakes slid in front of them and they were alone once again. He took a sip of his shake and his right brow slightly kinked up as they just sort of peered at each other waiting for the silence to break. Danny was not sure what there was left to say on the subject of witnessing a murder. What was there to be said on the subject truly? They do not write subject points about this anywhere, not even google would have the answers. They needed to figure out their next step though that was if there would be a next step as a we. If there happened to be a solo option Danny would take it alone and handle the step on his own. He was not the type to cut and run from things that were scary. Danny would put his detective hat on and figure out the mystery behind that black mask solo or he would gladly make her a crown to wear since she was probably too good for just a simple detective hat.

He wondered at the time what was going through her mind at the moment if she was thinking what he was thinking or if they were on opposite pages. It irked him massively that they had come close to death and witnessed a person taking a life. He did not like feeling hopeless and lost with no direct path laid before him to walk. He felt as if he was stuck in the middle of a forked road with not a clue of what direction to head in. What was the right path to take?  Should he pretend it never happened and continue forward or should he take another path, one that would put him and probably Maisie in the crossfire of all the horror and drama that came with it. Danny was stricken with conflicted emotion on the subject and part of him did not want to even think about it any longer but you cannot avoid being a witness to a murder it was not something you just walk away from and do nothing.