A New Brand of Redemption.

As Megan climbed the stairs in her apartment building, she tried to force herself to breathe. Just breathe. She knew it was a really simple process. Oxygen in. Carbon dioxide out. That wasn’t in any way hard or complicated. So why couldn’t she do it? Why couldn’t she make herself breathe? Maybe she was suffering from some kind of delayed shock. The horror of the day was to much for her body to handle, so it was shutting down. That was a good excuse. It was much better then admitting the truth. She was choking up. Because she was going to have to face Trevor in the morning and convince him she wasn’t completely crazy. That would be difficult considering she wasn’t even sure of her sanity. And why should she be? What sane person kissed her best friend and then told him she loved him?
One without any sense of self preservation at all, Megan thought. Then she gave into the burning sensation in her chest and the air felt like it had turned the consistency of maple syrup.
The words themselves really weren’t that bad. I love you could mean a friendly love.
Oh right, Megan thought as she unlocked her front door, and when I kissed him it was just a friendly kind of kiss.
Sighing loudly, Megan dragged herself into her small living room. Then she collapsed on a sofa she’d bought a thrift store. As she stretched out , Megan realized she was so tired it hurt. Her entire body was begging her to go to sleep, but her mind wouldn’t let her. She closed her eyes and tried to block off her thoughts completely. But there were just to many images that refused to be exorcised.
Behind her lids Megan could still Trevor trying to fight Brett .She still saw him ready to do anything to protect her. As tears seared her cheeks, Megan realized that was when she knew. That was when she knew she needed Trevor. That was when she knew without him her life would never make sense. Then she had been forced to watch him fall and it had felt so much like dying. It felt like someone reached out and tore her still beating heart from her chest. So how could Megan not tell Trevor she loved him when she saw him awake and breathing?
She could see exactly the way he looked in the hospital. Trevor’s raven hair had been tangled and damp with sweat, his translucent skin had been bruised purple-black in places, but his pale ice blue eyes could only be described as alive. And when she gazed into them Megan had come completely undone.

There was blood…blood everywhere. It was hot and sticky on Marcus skin and it smelled …wrong. Almost like rust, but with an all to human edge that made him feel like gagging. He started wiping it off, but even as he did there seemed to be more on him.
Where the hell is it coming from? Marcus thought confusedly as he looked at his dripping wet hands. It wasn’t until he turned them palms up that Marcus saw the twin cuts on his wrists.
Screaming. It was so loud it hurt his ears. Was it him? Was he screaming? He had to be. There was no one else. Only brightness.
Marcus opened his eyes to the morning light and realized he was still yelling. Forcing himself to stop, he gasped in a lungful of burning air and looked wildly around. Like a caged animal, Marcus fearfully took in the room he was held captive in. It was a hospital room. That much was obvious from the minimalist décor and hash white color scheme. But didn’t a hospital room mean life? Didn’t it mean existing? How was that possible after what he’d done? Looking down Marcus saw the thick bandages around his wrists and he started to shake.
When a nurse walked into his room a few minutes later to check on Marcus, she found him sobbing and whispering just loud enough to hear, “Why God…Why me? Why not Trevor? Why couldn’t he have lived?”

Brett spent the night on an uncomfortably lumpy hotel bed. He dreamed, but it was not of blood and brightness. His dream was devoid of any mental images. He couldn’t see anything. But he could hear…
A soft sweet voice, barely more then a whisper, filled every corner of Brett’s mind as it said, “I know.” There was a long silence as he waited for it to say more and then, “I know. I know. I KNOW!”
“What?” he was forced to ask before the screaming drove him crazy.
“I know what you’ve done.”
The pure unadulterated loathing that was injected into those five words sent fear rippling down Brett’s spine, but he tried not to show it when he asked, “And what’s that?”
“Killer,” it hissed like a serpent.
“That was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Maybe you didn’t, but you’re glad of it now. Aren’t you?”
Irritation leaked into Brett’s voice as he said very slowly, “I don’t want to go to jail. I did not mean for Trevor to die-”
“But now that he has,” the stranger cut him off. “Now that what’s happened has happened and it can’t be changed YOU ARE GLAD AREN'T YOU!”
The voice…Oh God! Why hadn’t he noticed it before? There was really only one person it could be.
Brett smiled and yelled, “Yes! I’m gad he’s dead and I’ll be even more glad when you are you stupid bitch.”
Silence; unbroken by her this time.
So he shouted, “ What? Did you think I wouldn’t realize it was you? Well Megan, I heard you so hear me. You will be joining your freak soon enough.”
Then Brett woke up. Sweat was pouring off his skin and his heart was racing, but he knew what he had to do. He grabbed the phone book off the nightstand and quickly found Megan Alexander’s full address. Then he took a pen and copied it onto his palm.