Prologue

 

He woke up. Memories haunted his sleep. Memories of reality, twisted into one gut wrenching treacherous nightmare.

It was reality in a different realm. But still a realm that he had to walk on, giving him no rest.

And he knew it. No nightmare could be that frightening, that real. The horror should end once the dreamer woke, with the dreamer left in the dark about what had scared him so. For him, the horror had barely begun. He remembered all the details, felt all the pain. Once again, he was trapped, caught in tangles he could not extricate from. He was falling fast and falling hard. When he thought he reached the ground and could finally welcome some release, the ground split opened and he would fall some more. He would fall forever and scream all the more louder.

Just descending, no way to hit the ground or jump back up.

And he would force himself to be paralyzed to his emotions and thoughts. In recent days, it was better to remain a zombie.

He had been sleeping once all his classes ended. Just packed all his books and staggered like a drunk back to his dorm. But he was not drunk with alcohol; he was drunk with numbness; drunk with the need of sleep.

Sleep to land him into another level of tiredness, another level the unbearable feeling of being. He knew once he slept, it would all still come back to him. But he was sucked into that whirlpool, unable to surface, unable to fight against the concentric currents.

But still, he woke up. One day, he would lose the fight and continue to walk in the nightmare even in his waking hours. Yet, that day was not the day, or rather, that night was not the night. He had slept for seven hours straight since three p.m. The whole world was already blanketed.

Time to wash up and meet the gang.

Joe stumbled around and groped his way out of his dorm room to the shared bathroom. As he splashed water onto his face, he spotted in the mirror a stranger that he despised more and more everyday. A stranger that looked like him and not yet him. And the diamond ring, dangling on a chain, making clinking sounds with a set of melted keys.

Another memento. Another life sacrificed.

And the diamond, though not large, in fact, very small indeed- shone with a brilliance under the florescent light that cut deep into his soul.

ONE

The First Trial

"Joseph, why would the gun be in your hands?"

He stared dumbly at the DA, a million thoughts running through his mind; a million thoughts that he had no way of sorting, deciphering. All he could think of was the tree house. The last words. The final words that should never have been goodbye.

I killed her.

"I killed her."

I was happy. The case just ended. A serial murder and we caught him. She had not seen me around for a long time and I wanted to make it up to her because I realized that she was sacrificing a lot for me by opting to go to University of Boston, as I was rewarded a football scholarship.

She was quiet. Unusually so. I wanted so much to joke around with her but each lame wisecrack I whispered in her ears went unheard. Her face was pale. She looked at me like she wanted so badly to tell me something.

So we left the party. It was supposed to be a happy day. I have to remind myself of that. We went to the tree house behind the Morton’s house, where Chet threw a surprise party for us all. He was a great friend.

I had this thing to give her you see. This ring. My commitment. I knew we were young but I knew my heart. I still know my heart. It’s still hers. Always. Never changed.

As we left the gang, I saw Brian or more affectionately known as Biff, looking at Vanessa and me with weird eyes. My best friend always had a crush on Vanessa. We were quite alike in some ways, but his life is simpler, less complicated than mine because I had a passion for something that would tear me away from a normal life sometimes.

Two months on the case, two months that I did not get to see her as often as I could. We climbed up the tree house. I’m like a kid, because I was happy. It’s the last time I’ll be happy.

But she was still quiet.

The little shelter was built on top of this gigantic tree that I never found the time to remember the name. Names meant nothing to me now anyway. Frank told me once but I forgot. It does not matter. I have no one to tell it to.

She would not let me hold her. I thought maybe I did something wrong but shook off that feeling. She would understand.

We sat in the shelter but Vanessa wanted to climb higher up to another level of branches. I humored her. I don’t really like heights. She liked heights, a lot. She liked a sense of danger sometimes.

With our legs dangling in mid-air, we look up at the stars. The stars were so close. I wanted to reach for one and give it to her. She deserved a star because she was an angel.

"I love you." I told her. Her eyes brimmed and shone like diamonds under the moonlight. Like the diamond she would get to see and behold later.

"Joe, I have something to tell you. But remember, that I do love you so much." She turned to me with so much sincerity in her eyes. I was confused, I don’t like these kind of things. Was she going to break up with me or something?

"I got drunk one night because you cancelled out on me again. Biff sent me home. I think I slept with him…I don’t know. I was so…God…I…and…"

My world came crashing down. I was saving myself for her, for the night I would be unite with her spiritually as husband and wife.

"I went out with him a few times after that. He was so tender and he was always there. I tried to call you…but you’re out with your brother, your case…you know…your cases... but I only slept with him once…it was a mistake. I told him two weeks ago it was a mistake that I will never allow to happen again."

The ring box burned in my jeans pocket, boring a hole into my soul. I never knew I could have such skills for morbid similarity.

The stars lost their magic. The world was silent not for us, but for the betrayal that I was feeling. I knew her. I was the one who loved her. Sometimes, I’m not around but she understood!

She was suppose to understand.

"Joe? Talk to me…" She begged, gripping my hand hard. I snatched it away and her sharp, well manicured fingernails scratched me. But the scratches were nothing compared to the breaking of my heart.

"Please Joe…I’m so sorry. I cannot hide it anymore…I need you to forgive me…"

Frank had said I was too young. I had told him age doesn’t matter when it came to love. I have graduated, she was coming to Boston with me. We were going to have a new life together.

I could not see her tears or her anguish. I could only see me. My anger. The next thing I knew was I was no longer on the tree. I was walking towards the house back to the party, not wanting to register any of the horrible truth in my mind. I can hear her behind me.

"Joe!"

I turned around. In a very harsh tone, I spoke to her, "I thought you love me."

"I do…"

"Then why?!!!" I practically screamed. We were far away from the house. No one could hear us.

"I don’t know!!! I don’t! I feel terrible…I don’t even believe in sex before marr…"

"DON’T TALK TO ME ABOUT WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN! JUST GET AWAY FROM ME!" I shouted. I could not control myself. Control is something I lacked very much. Frank always told me that, hoping I would temper my temper. That’s a good one. Temper my temper.

"Joe…" She cried so sadly. I wanted to reach for her. But I didn’t. I was still so angry. So very angry.

"Get away from me. You’re nothing but a whore!" Strong words, hurtful words. Words that should not have been said. I was surprised by what I have allowed to let slip, appalled by my callousness. I should have said sorry then. But I walked away, not towards the house, but somewhere else. I don’t know. I can’t remember. She did not follow me this time.

I breathed in deep. I tried to think. Maybe I should hear her out. Maybe it was my fault. I have neglected her. As for her episode with Biff, maybe we can work it out, deal with it.

Because I love her. Because the ring no longer burned. The ring reminded me. My heart spoke to me. I love her. I should listen for once. Really listen. We’ll sort it out. We will.

So I went back to the big big tree.

And I fell into hell.

But I know I can still protect her. I will protect her. God, how can I not know what happened? My fault, my words. My FAULT! NOT HERS!!!!

"I saw the gun she brought and told her to give it to me. I was afraid of what she would do."

I didn’t see the gun. If only I had. If only I did. Why can’t I see? The night must had blinded me.

"She did after a while. I was persuasive. I told her nothing she could do would warrant a suicide."

Did I? Once again, if only I did.

"She told me about Biff, I mean Brian. She begged me for forgiveness."

She told me about Biff, I mean Brian. She begged me for forgiveness.

"I was so angry."

I was so angry.

"I left her."

I left her.

"She did not follow. After a while, my anger blinded me so much. I felt I have to return. The betrayal was too unbearable."

"So I went back to the tree house."

She went back to the tree house.

"I saw her and again anger surged through me. I thought of her and Biff in bed, I thought of her betrayal. She tried to ask me to forgive her. I did not listen. I went back because I had something to do."

"I drew the gun."

She drew the gun.

"She was standing on the edge of the tree house. We never build walls for it. Just a few planks so we could all sit on it."

She was standing on the edge, looking at the stars probably.

"The more she explained the more angry I got. She was frightened. She tried to reach for the gun and scratched my hand. And at a close range, I shot her."

She shot herself.

"And she fell."

She fell.

"I was going to propose. I was so angry…but when I saw her lying on the ground, her pretty face destroyed…"

Her face was destroyed. Brains splattered all over.

"I could not believe it that I shot her. I still love her. So I held her."

I held her and took the gun away from her hands. It had a silencer. That was why I did not hear the shot. Her mother’s gun. She brought it with her.

She will always be beautiful in my eyes.

"And then Frank found me."

"JOE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING? MY BROTHER IS MAD! MAD!!! DON’T LISTEN TO HIM! HE’LL NEVER DO IT! NEVER!!!!"

"Order please!" The judge hammered the table as Frank turned hysterical.

I will never let anything tarnish your name Vanessa. I will protect you. With my life. I will protect you.

"JOE!"

"Order!"

Forgive me Vanessa. I love you. Remember that. I love you.

Forgive me as well Big Brother. Maybe I’m mad. But I only want to protect her.

The court went silent in complete disbelief at the words of one of Bayport’s finest young men.

 

***

Around One Year later, Present Time

Joe slipped into the warehouse pub, Storm, unnoticed. It was dimly lit, the stench of cigarette and alcohol hung heavily in the air, suffocating him for a while. He was glad that Frank was not his roommate in UB, University of Bayport or he would be given the third degree every night because he frequented this angst-filled environment which was packed with the students of UB with a darker side almost every other night. Most everyone there had a dark story to tell. Yet, most of them were untrue, some just wanted to fit in and they would do or say anything. To Joe though, the people there were normal. There was nothing strange about the gang he hung out with, unless somebody wanted to take the risk and scourge their souls for the darkness that consumed them, they seemed to be perfectly normal people, just not very happy with the world.

He could not spot his friends as the smoke from the dance floor and the kaleidoscopic disco lights complimented each other very well to blind everybody. Joe thought he was in London, only that London was not as smelly or depressing.

And not half as noisy with trance music being the flavor of the night.

I don’t need to be here. But I’m drawn.

Frank had disapproved of Joe’s new friends, but Joe never introduced them to him anyway. Frank had once accidentally bumped into them while they were over at the more popular club, Arachno, which was established in the jazzier side of Bayport while Storm was being renovated. His old gang and his new gang were so uncomfortable, trying to make small talks which would end up in dead ends all the time. And thus Joe and his new friends took their drinks outside and got drunk silly in some open field. Frank had to drive them all home after searching for his brother for close to three hours.

Frank did not liked his friends, or this darker side of his world- the side where the sun refused to shine through. It did not matter. Joe never invited Frank in anyway.

How can he understand? I can’t understand everything either.

Depression, his old friend, said hello once and never said goodbye.

He spotted them finally. It was not a formal get together, they did not even agree to meet. Yet, they knew where to find one another. They were always in that shadowy little corner of theirs, some smoking, some drinking, most doing both. Joe only drank, he did not smoke. But that did not make him more saintly than his peers. And he promised Frank long ago, that he would never get drunk again, a promise he was a little proud that he had kept for almost 2 months.

He slid into the space beside a guy with jet black hair and the most intense green eyes one could ever find. Another of his friend, a lanky college kid with shocking orange highlights against dirty blond hair passed him a glass of clear bubbly liquid with a slice of lemon. Vodka Lime. Once, it had been his staple drink every night before moving on to something stronger to numb the pain.

Once.

Thanking the giver, he downed the whole drink in a matter of seconds, trying to nurse that queasiness in his stomach.

"You’re sure mild today," He commented to the one with the orange highlights. Shane Melvick laughed bitterly. Joe noticed that Shane was a little drunk.

"Theerree’s a test dumorror…rememmmbeeee." Shane drawled as his eyes tried to focus on Joe. Joe knitted his brows. He had forgotten and was now being reminded by his half-gone friend, his new best friend.

Craig Anderson, the one with the jet black hair took a long drag from his cigarette and blew wispy and noxious circles in the air. "Don’t worry, we have all forgotten about tests, even exams once in a while."

Another guy, the last one in that nice little circle of morbid companions, gave all his friends a disapproving glance. Joe often wondered why he would stick so close to them when he was obviously much better than them. Though not as intelligent as Frank, Wayne was smart enough to always score good grades and he was actually holding on to a scholarship. He shaved his curly black hair away and his dark face was always serious; pensive. He was always spouting some cryptic message. His soulful black eyes had seen too much suffering.

Not his own sufferings though but his friends’. Wayne Garland grew up in a ghetto but he was an exceptional fellow. He never felt that he had to remain in the station that many thought he was already condemned to. While some of his ghetto friends were wasting their lives with drugs and violence, he was studying and saving. That was why he broke free, got a scholarship and was now studying in UB, with a dream to one day go back to his home town and shake things around a little.

"You’ve all made it so far. Why throw it all away?" Wayne spoke softly in that velvet voice of his. Though it was noisy in the pub, the rest of them heard him loud and clear.

"Listen to our future President of the United States! Yes sir, please…convince us to study hard and be a good citizen for the greater good of our country!" Craig snide at Wayne who Joe thought did not deserve the mocking at all. But Craig could not help himself, a tragic childhood left him a hostile creature to be with. He probably did not mean to hurt Wayne and Wayne took it in his stride, knowing Craig for who he was, accepting Craig for he was.

Joe thought Wayne was wasting his time with the bunch of them. But he was a good guitar player. They needed a good guitar player. Plus, they needed somebody sane to pull them out of self-destruction.

"Unlike the rest of you, I’m going to blow this joint right now. I may not be in the same class, but I have my test to study for. All the best guys." Wayne stood up but before he left, he stopped behind Joe.

"You should study. You have intelligence. Don’t throw it away." Wayne soundly advised Joe and left the three of them to completely lose control. Joe did not though, he was informally the designated driver. He could not get drunk, could not even get himself high.

Not that he wanted to anymore.