The voice was coming from inside my head; I desperately searched my mind for its owner. It was a voice I could not place, one that I had not heard before. I could tell I was fading, but I did not think I was gone yet.
“Who are you?” I asked as a beautiful face appeared, smiling at me and watching me with bright green eyes. “Dad?”
“Yeah, Ava Baby, it’s me.”
“Am I dead?”
“No, Ava,” he answered, “you aren’t dead, but you have to hang on; you have to wake up.”
“I can’t, I don’t know how. How are you here?”
“I am not really here, Ava. I am only in your mind.”
I blinked my eyes as my surroundings came into focus. I was lying in a bed in a dimly lit hospital room. I could hear the beeping of monitors. I could see the clock on the wall counting down the minutes until my death. My father stood there holding a pair of very sharp scissors.
“They vowed on my death bed that they would not rest until you were dead too, but they don’t have any idea how much stronger you are than they are and how much stronger you are than I am. When I lay dying, I had one last vision of the future – this one. Ava, I can control your fate only until I fade out, then the rest is up to you.”
My dad took my thread of life and he pulled as he spoke. I watched the minutes turn. He was buying me time but I could tell he didn’t have the strength to do much more than that.
“I will not allow you to die on my watch, but I cannot hold on much longer. I want you to know I am so sorry for the choices I made. I love you, Ava. Please, I beg of you, please forgive me and please wake up.”
My father’s face faded into nothingness before I could tell him I loved him too and my eyes shot open; they were sticky with fresh tears. I once again found myself shrouded in night, but the darkness was different this time, more tangible. The smell of plastic filled my nose with each breath I took. The surface I was lying on was rocking briskly. I moved my right arm and stretched it out in front of me, touching the blackness that engulfed me.
Oh, my God I am in a garbage bag.
I swallowed the panic that began to build inside me. I bit down hard on my cheek to keep from screaming out in fear. I could hear the crashing of waves around me. They think I am dead and they’re going to dump me at sea. I stuck my finger through my pliable casket and began to rip my way out of the bag. I could see their feet. We were on a boat and both of them were facing away from me. They seemed to be looking at and arguing about the motor. I looked around, squinting in the dark to get my bearings. I could not believe my luck when I spied a gun lying on the ground near me. This was my chance and I had to take it; I knew there would not be a second one.
Taking hold of the gun in my right hand, with all of my strength, I climbed to my feet. I took shaky aim at the back of No.1’s head and with my trembling finger pulled the trigger. The noise from the gun was ear shattering. I flinched as the man went down instantaneously. I held back my queasy stomach as parts of No. 1’s head splattered my face and hair.
No. 2 twisted around and saw me standing there, like a ghost that had come back to life. He sprang forward and tried to grab the gun but I kicked him back. He charged at me again and this time he took me down with him. I landed with him on top of me on the hard surface of the boat’s deck. Our fall caused the gun to drop with a plunk into the ocean. No. 2 leapt to his feet and kicked me square in the ribs. I heard them crunch and my eyes watered with the pain. He lifted me partially up, and dragged my body back to the front of the boat while I kicked and screamed for dear life. Walking backwards and hauling my unwilling body, he lost his footing. The momentary pause in the action gave me a chance to right myself. I lunged at him with all my might and was able to knock the wind out of him.
He grabbed the hawser and looped it around my neck. I could feel his hot breath against my ear as he attempted to tighten the noose. I threw my head back and hit his own as hard as humanly possible. I heard and felt the crack of his nose against the back of my already tender skull. My eyesight went fuzzy from the impact and I worked even faster, afraid of losing consciousness. My fingers were shaking; I grabbed at the rope and pulled it away from my throat, slipping it around No. 2’s neck instead. I kicked him away and his feet caught in my discarded garbage bag. He yelled as he fell backwards over the rail.
My palms burned as I held on to the rope until the struggling at the other end came to a sudden stop. That was it; he was dead.
I had shot and strangled two men. Their blood was on my hands. I felt myself shaking as I fought my way off the boat and onto the dock. I pushed myself through the sand, up towards the homes in the distance. I was fading fast; blood was still seeping from my shoulder and the pain was nearly unbearable. The familiar twinkling lights on Ari’s deck were a beacon calling me home. I fell down in the sand every few steps, my arm and side screaming out in pain. My head was woozy, and I was beyond weak, but somehow I kept pushing myself forward. I crawled my way up the back steps and onto the deck. I was tired, soaking wet and covered in mud. My eyes were filling up quickly with black spots. I peeled my right hand off the gunshot wounds on my left shoulder. My hand was covered in my own dark red blood. I pressed it against the sliding glass door, right before my legs gave out, and I was once again lost in complete darkness.