Gone Isn't Forever

Chapter 16

Forgotten Faces

So Jimmy was human now. He was literally back from the dead. I thought I would be extremely happy about it. But I wasn’t. In the next few days, my slumber was haunted with evil images and the same vision of Kirsten in white, the blood dripping from her midsection.

There was a big reunion with the guys that I had apparently missed whilst I was out cold. I missed a lot while I was unconscious. First Jimmy comes to life, there was an Avenged reunion, and not to mention I still didn’t know who the hell had stripped me naked and bathed me. Arin was forced out on the couch for the past couple of days and Jimmy took over his old bunk, refusing to let me sleep anywhere else but with him. I felt kind of bad for the guy. There could have been something between us after all, but now that Jimmy was back to stay, there was no possible way of finding that out.

I’ll admit it felt nice to have my secret out there to my friends. Now they didn’t have to think I was going crazy anymore. Now I wasn’t the only one who could see or communicate with him. Though I still wondered why Jo was starting to be able to see him before he had materialized out of thin air. I was having a difficult time trying to figure it out. I didn’t know how blood deals worked, but I had to hand it to this demon. It did a damn good job on revitalizing him. He looked good. Damn good.
As for what Jimmy’s return meant for the future of the band, they decided to keep Erin on as the drummer because reintroducing The Rev would wreak havoc on their fan base. The little deathbats wouldn’t know how to process his return. They thought it was just better to keep Jimmy hidden for now.

Jimmy spent the next week just hanging around the bus and hanging out with the guys, practically forgetting my existence until he fell in to bed in the wee hours of the morning. Then he was all aboard the cuddle wagon express. I tried to push him away a couple of times, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t having any of that. I can’t exactly complain however. When he snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me into his chest every morning and his beautiful scent filled my lungs, I felt serenity wash over me and suddenly all of those nightmares of demons and a bloody red and white Kirsten would vanish. I don’t blame Jimmy for wanting to hang out with his friends. It had been years since they had seen each other. The bonding sessions were definitely needed.

The tour was going well. Our band’s fan base was beginning to grow and suddenly we were the next big thing in the world of metal. Jimmy would always look so sad whenever we would leave the tour bus to go perform. He knew he couldn’t be seen, but I knew he longed for the chance to be able to play with his friends again. It was killing him knowing that he could never be Avenged Sevenfold’s drummer ever again. He was close to having his life back, but there was a bigger part of it he would never get back.

The days show was cancelled on account of a severe thunderstorm storm. It seemed like the rain had followed us from the last town. I felt like I had been moved to Forks and entered the fucking Twilight zone. I loved the rain, I always had. But it had been nonstop raining since the day I blacked out and awoke to find a reanimated Jimmy The Rev Sullivan. I had been thinking about him a lot. I wondered about that journal he had kept in the natural days of living. The secrets contained within the pages of Sullivan’s dark history intrigued me and I couldn’t stop myself from peeking.

It was kept in the back room of the tour bus. The guys were all gathered in the living area drinking and playing video games along with the girls. Kirsten had returned and had made up with Syn. They seemed happy again. Or so it seemed. She was the one I had run into when I blacked out that day Jimmy and I fought. Though she seemed content and less upset, there was a worry in her eyes that she couldn’t hide. Not from me, not from any of the members of our band. There was something in her daily expressions, the way she carried herself that just made her seem… haunted. It was like seeing her and Jimmy switch positions. He was human and she was just a ghost of who she once was.

As if a higher power had taken notice of my curiosity, I had stumbled upon an old black book that evening after tripping over my own feet and just barely catching myself. I decided to just lay there on the floor in front of Jimmy’s bunk. I rolled over on my back and stared up at the ceiling for several minutes. My mind kept searching for answers to the questions swimming around in there and I felt like I was slowly going insane. If I hadn’t turned my head to the right, I would have never seen the small, tattered black journal lying underneath Johnny’s bunk. My curiosity burned and I sat myself up, only to proceed to crawl under Johnny’s bunk. Since everyone was in the main room, I figured beneath a bunk would be a perfect cover for a snoop.

I laid on my stomach, propping myself up on my elbows and slid to journal towards me. The cover had Jimmy’s signature on the inside. I felt an immediate wave of adrenaline rush through my body and every fiber of my soul wanted to learn of the secrets contained within its pages. I flipped a few pages and came to the first entry. It was there that the adrenaline died and I could almost feel my heart stop. All that the first page consisted of was my name… W-what? That wasn’t even the bizarre aspect of the first entry. It was the condition of the water damaged, stained pages, the broken spine of the journal, and the aged book scent that you usually find old books at a library. This journal had either been through a great deal or abuse, or it was indeed quite old.

I flipped the page. The second entry read:

Journal,

I have been having the oddest dreams over the past few nights. The images of this girl, dressed in some other worldly attire have been haunting my sleep. I have not a clue as to why I keeping dreaming of this young woman, but I feel like I should know her or that I am supposed to. I try to interact with her and she ignores me as if she cannot see me. It is as if I am a ghost, or she is. In my dreams, I already know her name is Melinda, but I do not know why or even how I know it. Last night I dreamed of her again. She was playing a stringed instrument of some sort. She picked at it in a closed off room where it was only her and I. She looked up at me, but as always she did not see me. She never sees me. Or so I thought, until she stood up and said these words: “Jimmy. You have to stop it. You can’t just keep up this ritual that has been cursing your soul. Beware of the darkness you find your light in.” And then I woke up. But when I woke, I had been writing in my sleep. I thought I might like to record some of my dreams after I first wake up, so I placed this journal underneath my pillow at night. But it seems like I repeatedly wrote this girl’s name all over an entire page. I do not know who she is or what she meant by her warning. But there is one thing I am certain of, and that is that she is certianly important to me in a way that I apparently do not comprehend just yet.

1786

James O. Sullivan

A scream caught in my throat as a fair of hands wrapped around my ankles and yanked at great force, dragging me out from underneath Johnny’s bunk.