“If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?”

William Shakespeare

 

Chapter One

                Revenge is not always best served cold.

                Winnie laid on summer’s blanket of soft, green grass and watched as storm clouds menacingly filled the midnight sky. The stars dimly twinkled at her, as if begging to be saved from the impending tempest that would soon eat them out of the heavens one after another. She didn’t care about the stars; Winnie hadn’t cared about anything for what seemed like an eternity.

                She rolled a small crumpled note between her fingers for a moment before dropping into the grass beside her. With shaky hands, she pulled a semi-crushed cigarette from her pocket and lit it with the cheap, twenty-cent lighter she’d found on the ground earlier today.

                “Charlie would hate this,” Winnie said to herself, “He can’t stand smoking.”

                But Charlie isn’t coming back.

                Tears drizzled down her face at the thought of her long gone brother. It almost seemed to physically hurt her when she thought about him now. It had been the upwards of a year since he’d been taken from her and the rest of their family. At first, she had just been numb. Now she was angry.

                Smoke drifted up, yearning to touch the sky. Dainty rings wafted out from the tube to dance around Winnie’s face. The smoke would have bothered most people, but Winnie found it soothing. The playful nature of the smoke paired with the soothing effects of the nicotine left her mind clear and almost at ease.

                Almost…

                She had never gotten to say goodbye. Sometimes when she was feeling particularly lonely, Winnie would talk to Charlie like he was next to her even though she knew that he would never come back. When he’d first disappeared, no one had really cared. After all, Charlie had been Seventeen years old then, only a year older than Winnie, and he had been working on getting emancipated. Life at their house had gone downhill since their mother had died. No one could really cope with her death, but Winnie’s father had taken it the worst. He’d always been a heavy drinker, but after his wife’s passing, the man had become obsessed with the consumption of alcohol.

                When he drank he became angry.

                When he became angry he took it out on his children.

                Charlie had it worse than She ever had, because Winnie looked too much like her mother. That’s also why her father would love her more. She shivered at the thought.

                Love is not always a good thing.

                “When I’m old enough,” Charlie would always tell her when they were younger, “I’m going to get out of here. Don’t worry though, I’ll take you with me sis’.”

                Winnie never told Charlie about what her father did to her. Charlie would have killed him if she had.

                Charlie didn’t just run away. He had promised her that he wouldn’t leave her behind, and Charlie didn’t lie about things like that. Winnie needed Charlie. They had to stick together.

                “Daddy hurt me tonight, Charlie,” Winnie whispered, letting the wind blow away her words, “He hurt me bad because you weren’t there.”

                It was no use; Charlie was dead. At first they had said that he had run away, then concluded that he had actually been kidnapped. The search had stopped a few months ago. No hope for his return remained, but in Winnie’s mind there had never been any. Seventeen year old boys didn’t get kidnapped; they either ran away or they died.

                Winnie inhaled every tendril of smoke that would enter her lungs and deeply exhaled, filling the already foggy air with an even thicker layer of smoke.

                Colorado was gone now too. In the beginning, she had thought it was because her melancholy behavior had chased him away; now she knew better.

                Blake Jacobs, that’s what his real name was. The three of them had met one another out of luck. One day, when Charlie and Winnie had gone to visit their mother’s freshly planted grave, Blake had been wondering around looking for…something. Trouble, maybe. Although Winnie could no longer remember what had been said, the meeting had sparked a vivid conversation amongst the three of them that day. Blake had just transferred from Colorado, so Charlie started addressing him as such. And the name stuck.

                A gentle breeze from the north nudged Winnie from her nostalgic memories and reminded her of why she had come to the field in the first place.

                Revenge.

                Her father was gone now too. Gone to nowhere that was almost somewhere. Left to shrivel away in a drunken stupor, and never return. Maybe one day he would come back, and hopefully when he did the heavy smell of intoxication that always lingered would be gone.

                Now, Winnie was alone to plan her comeuppance against the man who had taken away her brother and essentially, her life.

                Colorado had written her a letter the month after he’d killed Charlie, but she’d only just received it this morning. Apparently, the postal service was slaking.

              

 

Winnie,

                Don’t blame me for what happened, it’s what Charlie said that he wanted. He said it would be better for the both of you if he was gone. If you are reading this, he’s probably dead by now. Please, don’t blame me.

                I didn’t kill him, or at least I think that I didn’t. Everything is such a blur now. I was scared to tell you at first, so I didn’t say anything. That’s why I left. Don’t blame me.

                I think your dad’s not going to bother you anymore. Charlie’s idea, not mine. Said that if he was gone, your father would leave you alone. Don’t think you told him about what that man does to you. Should’ve when you had the chance. I would, but I’m so confused. Don’t remember. Please, don’t blame me.

                Think Charlie’s alive. Don’t remember what happened. I just remember the bellflowers. The little blue ones that would always shrivel up when we blew smoke on them. I miss those days. I miss Charlie. I miss you.

                Do you know where I am? Charlie said that he would tell you where I was going before he left. Did he do that? He doesn’t want you to find him. He’s dead. His idea, not mine. Don’t blame me.

                I want to tell you what happened. I don’t think I killed him, but everything is such a blur now. I miss you.

                Help me.

                ~Colorado.

              

 

                Winnie had read the letter a few times, but she still couldn’t really understand it. It seemed that Blake had been a wreck when we had written it, he’d probably been drunk.

                Still, something was strange about the way he was speaking. Something about the letter screamed that the situation was desperate but that there was still time. Colorado was confused, but he almost seemed to know what was happening at times. Like the comment about her father. He had remembered what she had told him that one day under the weeping willow. He had met up with her and watched her weep while he lit a cigarette for the both of them.

                “Here,” He’d said, handing the cigarette to her, “Just take one smoke. It will help you cool the nerves.”

                He had been the one who had gotten her hooked. It had been that moment.

                When she had dried her tears, she told him everything, and then begged him not to tell Charlie. They never spoke about it after that, and Winnie had thought that Colorado had just forgotten.

                And the bluebells…

                Winnie shook her head, that moment was lost in another time. A better time.

                Winnie wanted Charlie to be alive more than she had ever wanted anything else in her life, but she rested upon the growing sensation that he was gone forever. After reading the letter, she had felt sorry for Colorado, she had been confused too. But most of all, she felt and underlying sense of hatred towards the once dear friend.

                Winnie wasn’t sure if her brother was alive or not.

                She did not know if Colorado had killed him (although she did recognize the creeping suspicion that he had.)

                She wasn’t she where he was.

                But she had to find him.

                And if he had killed Charlie, then Winnie knew that she would have to kill Colorado.

2: Chapter Two

Chapter Two

                Winnie woke, lying in the flora where she had fallen asleep last night, to soft summer kisses radiating off from the sun. Her body erupted in a series of sharp spasm-like shivers. She felt freezing cold, despite having been warmed by the sun in her sleep. Now that she thought about it, her whole body felt strange. Her torso felt numb, like something heavy had been placed on top of her and her body had fallen asleep. Her heart was barely beating in her chest. Her thoughts seemed all jumbled together, unable to be separated into a clearer line of conscience. Yet, mostly, she was dizzy.

                Winnie let her hand wander down to her pocket as she searched for another cigarette. When she found one, crumpled and hiding in a crease in her pocket, she took it out, gingerly lighting it. It was the last smoke she would be able to have in a while, and she wanted to savor it. For the past couple of days they had been a source of relief for her; the calming fog was going to disappear soon, for better or for worse.

                She stood up and looked around the area, examining her surroundings. An ocean of summer green grass that danced in the breeze went on for what seemed like miles. The sky was a clear blue, and the wind blew calmly, nipping at Winnie’s cheeks. She didn’t know where she was, nor did she had any clue how she had arrived, but she liked being in the opening. Despite her nagging thoughts, it was calm.

                “Colorado,” Winnie whispered, reminding herself why she was here in the first place.

                She needed to find him.

                She needed to find Charlie.

                Winnie had an idea of where he would be, but it was a long shot. He had mentioned something about the bluebells in the note. When the two of them had been younger, they had always gone to a small patch of blue bells to escape. It’s where they would smoke and talk about their lives.

                Winnie had a dead mother and an abusive father. Colorado had a dying sister and a mortgage to pay. Neither of their lives were great, but both got through one day after another by leaning on one another.

                Colorado had been Charlie’s friend first, but the two of them had never been able to talk about anything. Something about not wanting to share feelings. Colorado had stumbled into Winnie one day when he had visited the house; that’s when they first had met, even though nothing had happened that day. It hadn’t been like it is in movies: no love at first site, no instant friendship. It had just a bump, a nothing.

                And truthfully, Winnie wasn’t completely sure when the two of them had become friends. Mostly because she couldn’t imagine a time when Colorado hadn’t been in her life. She knew there had been a time, but it was like it had happened in another life.

                Sometimes, like today, Winnie actually missed Colorado more than she missed Charlie.

                Winnie sighed. She wasn’t sure what she should do. If Colorado was gone, she wouldn’t be able to stand it. If Charlie was gone any longer, she would lose it too. She needed both of them, but the thought of either them was making her sick at the moment. She missed Charlie more than anything, but if he had left her she wasn’t sure she actually needed to find him. And if Colorado had killed Charlie…

                Winnie shivered. She wasn’t really sure how she would react. Yesterday she had been angry. Yesterday she had craved revenge. Today, she was just tired. She wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore. She needed both of them. She hated both of them. She was tired. She was angry.

                “UGH!” Winnie shrieked into the hot, summer sky as she fell down on to her back once again.

                She just wanted to sleep some more, before she had to go on some life changing journey. She just wanted to take a nap before she had to kill her best friend for taking her brother away from her. She just wanted to dissolve in to the calling abyss. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and fell in to darkness.

…

                When Winnie woke for the second time, she could feel someone sitting next to her. Labored, yet soft breathing surrounded her like a wind flying in from the east.

                “Who’s there?” Winnie snapped, surprised at the hoarseness of her voice. Her chest was heavy, her body ached, and her breaths felt like sharp daggers piercing in to her chest. It made no sense to her conscience mind; she’d just been lying in a field for the past few days. She hadn’t been in contact with anything, she hadn’t even moved. So, why was she in so much pain?

                Silence. The only noise that could be heard was the sound of her worry reverberating off of the trees.

                “Who’s there?” She called out again, more vigor in her voice this time.

                A small cough came from somewhere near to her.

                “Hello?” She cried out in fear, trying to lift her body off the ground and face her pursuer, “Who’s there? Come out and face me!”

                That’s when she saw him, Colorado, facing her.

                Her eyes went wide and she cocked her head to the side, a bit confused about why and how he had come here.

                “Blake?” She croaked, all energy from the adrenaline rush draining out of her, “What are you doing here?”

                He opened his mouth and no words came out.

                “What?” She breathed out. Her head was spinning, making the word around her difficult to see, and she could feel her heart beating out of her chest.

                He started to speak again, but silence was all that rang out.

                “I feel…weird Colorado,” She choked out, “What’s wrong…with me?”

                She blinked a few times, trying to rip away the foggy layer that had covered her eyes and clear her frazzled head, but nothing worked.

                “Colorado,” She whispered.

                And with that Winnie was gone.

3: Chapter Three

Chapter 3

                “Winnie.”

                The whisper jolted her out of a dream world, but it was not strong enough to wake her from the slumber. She knew what was happening around her, but she was still asleep. Then, like a gentle breeze, the voice spoke once again.

                “Winnie, wake up.”

                “MH,” Winnie moaned as she brought her hands up to her yes to rub them.

                The voice sighed, “Winnie, please wake up.”

                Holding a hand to her forehead to shield herself from the blinding sun, Winnie squinted open her tired eyes.

                “I’m awake, Colorado,” She moaned, “What do you want?”

                “I need to talk to you,” He sighed, “Something’s happened.”

                She sat up, with ease this time. It seemed that nearly all the pain in her body had dissipated. Rubbing her eyes, she sighed and asked, “Did you kill Charlie?”

                Colorado laughed, “What are you talking about?”

                She grabbed to note out of her pocket and handed it to him. As he scanned it over, his face went pale as if he had seen a ghost.

                “What’s wrong?” Winnie asked, chuckling a little at his worry. She was, no doubt, surprised to see him. After all, in the note he had been confused, unsure of where he was and who he was.

                His eyes crept up to her until they were staring into one another’s very souls. His eyes, which had always been a hauntingly deep blue, were now examining every part of her.

                “What?” She chuckled, this time more nervously.

                “Do you know how you got here, Winnie?” Colorado asked cautiously.

                She shook her head and sighed, “No idea…Why do you ask?”

                “I never wrote this letter Winnie, but I do remember reading it.”

                “What do you mean?” Winnie laughed nervously, “You wrote it, right? So how could you have read it? If you didn’t send it, then who did?”

                “Read it,” He ordered as he handed the letter back to her.

                “But,” She murmured, “I already did.”

                “Just read it again!” He ordered, more agitated the next time he said it.

                “Fine,” Winnie muttered, “I’ll do what you want me to, just don’t get your panties in a bunch Mr. Grumpy Gills.”

                She took the note and held it up to her face, sighing. As she read it, her face went white. Colorado had been right, the note was different that she had thought. It was just a minor altercation, but it changed everything.

                It read like this now:

Charlie,

                Don’t blame me for what happened, it’s what Colorado said that he wanted. He said it would be better for the both of us if he was gone. If you are reading this, he’s probably dead by now. Please, don’t blame me.

                I didn’t kill him, or at least I think that I didn’t. Everything is such a blur now. I was scared to tell you at first, so I didn’t say anything. That’s why I left. Don’t blame me.

                I don’t think daddy’s going to bother you anymore. Colorado’s idea, not mine. Said that if he was gone, daddy would leave you alone. I never told you what he did to me, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’m so confused. Don’t remember. Please, don’t blame me.

                Maybe Colorado’s alive. Don’t remember what happened. I just remember the bellflowers. The little blue ones that would always shrivel up when Blake and I blew smoke on them. I miss those days. I miss Colorado. I miss you.

                Do you know where I am? Colorado said that he would tell you where I was going before he left. Did he do that? He doesn’t want you to find him. He’s dead. His idea, not mine. Don’t blame me.

                I want to tell you what happened. I don’t think I killed him, but everything is such a blur now. I miss you.

                Help me.

                ~W~

                “I wrote this,” Winnie whispered, looking up at Colorado, “I wrote it for Charlie after the day you…”

                Her eyes went wide, and Colorado just nodded, looking at her.

                “The day you died,” She cried out, “I stole every bottle of alcohol that my dad had and I sat in the forest behind my house, getting drunk. I barely even remember writing this.”

                Colorado sighed, “Charlie went looking for you after you ran away, you know. He’s still worried about you, especially now.”

                “How am I here,” Winnie cried out in confusion, “How are we here together, if you’re dead?”

                “Winnie,” Colorado sighed.

                “No,” Winnie whimpered, “No, this isn’t possible.”

                “I think you’re dead, Winnie,” He sighed, “Maybe just dying, but you’re here, and you can see and hear me, so I don’t know.”

                “Oh,” She sighed.

                “Sorry.”

                “Do you know how?” She asked, confused, “I just remember going home. I’d been away for a while, house jumping. You know, sleeping on some friends’ sofas. Anyways, I came home to see Charlie; I wanted to see if he would leave with me like he used to promise when we were younger, but when I got home he wasn’t there.”

                “Do you know what happened after that?” Colorado asked her carefully.

                She nodded and swallowed, closing her eyes.

                “I think so,” She sighed, “My dad was home, and he…”

                “It’s ok,” Colorado said, trying to comfort her, “You don’t have to say anything else.”

                “No,” She said firmly, “I’ll finish. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me up the stairs. I was screaming and he was threatening me. Then he tossed me on the bed and…”

                She swallowed, “Maybe I can’t go on.”

                He nodded and asked her, “Do you want to know how you died?”         

                “Do you know?” She sighed.

                He nodded.

                “I suppose it couldn’t hurt then,” She cried out, “If I’m dead already anyways.”

                “Charlie came home from work at around seven thirty, like he usually does,” Colorado started to explain, “And he found your dad and you…”

                Winnie nodded, “And…?”

                “He saw your dad on top of you and he freaked out,” Colorado relayed the event, “He grabbed the gun that your dad keeps out in the closet and he shot him in the back.”

                “Okay,” Winnie sighed, “But that still doesn’t explain why I’m dead.”

                “The bullet went through both of you.”

4: Chapter Four

Chapter Four

                “I missed you Colorado,” Winnie sighed, snuggling up with him as he wrapped his arm around her.

                “I’m glad you remember me,” He chuckled, “You’ve seen so worried about going home lately, I wasn’t sure.”

                She turned her head to face him, confused.

                “What do you mean by that?” She snapped, slightly irritated, “Am I not allowed to think about other things besides your death?”

                “Winnie,” He sighed.

                “What?” She cried angrily, detaching herself from him, “What do you want me to do? I didn’t want to remember what happened, okay?”

                “Winnie, I know that,” He sighed, “I’m sorry.”

                She nodded, pulling her legs to her chest.

                “Its fine, it’s just…”

                “What’s wrong?” He asked.

                “It was hard without you there,” She sighed into her knees, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you the first couple weeks, that’s why I ran away to begin with. For a while, I did everything I could to remember you. I watched the movies we made in class, I looked at pictures of us, I even went to the bluebell patch.”

                “You mean the one we vowed to never return to?” He asked, chuckling, “Because we always got so drunk there?”

                “Yeah,” She said, smiling softly, “But it hurt too much, and I forced myself to stop. So then for the next couple months I forced myself to forget you, but that didn’t really help; deep down I still knew what had happened, and I knew that it was pretty much my fault that you had died.”

                “That’s not true,” He sighed, “I really wish you would stop thinking that it was.”

                “I was right there,” She cried out, “Right next to you! I didn’t do anything; you were just lying there, completely unresponsive on the cold, hard floor.”

                He sighed, “I was the one that wanted to go to the rave though. I was the one that wanted to take the pill, even when you warned me not to.”

                “I let you, though,” She muttered, “I might as well have killed you myself.”

                “Did the doctors tell you what happened?” Blake asked her, “Did you ever hear why I died Winnie, why I really died?”

                “You over dosed, right?” She inquired, “I mean, what else could’ve happened?”

                He chuckled softly, “Well, yeah, but death from an ecstasy overdose is pretty rare, actually the doctors were saying that nobody has died directly from the toxic effects of the drug.”

                “What happened then?”

                “Well, I was listening to the doctors after it was over, trying to figure out what had happened,” He laughed, “Because I was so out of it, and they said that it was a couple of things. The first thing they brought up was that I had overheated and had a heatstroke. Then later, during the autopsy, the realized something else.”

                Winnie sat, patiently listening.

                “Apparently I had a saccular aneurysm in my brain. When my I took the MDMA, my blood pressure raised dramatically and caused it to rupture,” He sighed, “So there was nothing that you could’ve done anyways. I was a ticking time bomb; it could’ve happened at any time.”

                “Oh,” She said lamely.

                “I guess that doesn’t really help though,” He sighed, “Because I’m still dead and I’m not coming back without some kind of zombie apocalypse.”

                “Yeah,” She chuckled sadly, “I guess so.”

                The two of them sat in silence as the grass around them rippled in the wind.

                Then, Winnie ripped through the quiet with a simple question, “Do you miss being alive, Blake?”

                He shrugged, sighing, “I mean, I guess. I see the same things all the time. I met some other spirits or whatever, and they said that I’m in limbo. Whatever that means. But, I miss you guys, and I miss the time that we spent together.”

                She nodded and pressed her nose up against Colorado’s chest and asked, “Is this real? Are we really here? Am I really dead?”

                “I hope not,” Colorado sighed, “But I don’t know anymore. I wish I could tell you that I did Winnie.”

                Winnie didn’t know how to respond, so she just pressed her face harder against Colorado’s chest.

                “Winnie, please come back,” She heard from somewhere on the edge of the meadow.

                “What are you talking about?” She mumbled into Colorado’s chest, “I’m right here, I didn’t go anywhere.”

                Colorado chuckled, “What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.”

                “But,” She raised herself up from him, “I heard you ask me to come back. I don’t understa…”

                She was cut off by the sound of the same voice.

                “Winnie, please, don’t leave me.”

                It was louder and more persistent the second time, and she wanted to go to the person calling for her. It sound familiar, but didn’t quite know who it belonged to.

                “I’m hearing voices Colorado,” She chuckled. Winnie went to reach out for his comforting embrace once again, but he was gone. He had stood up and was walking away from her now.

                “Please come back, Blake,” She whispered, “Please.”

                He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face her. There was obvious turmoil in his face, but he still began to walk back to her.

                “Winnie, it’s time for me to leave,” He said, stopping every few steps to glace over his shoulder at something that was invisible to Winnie.

                “But…”

                Suddenly Winnie’s chest was heavy again, and she could feel someone painfully beating on her.

                “See?” He said, “You feel it to. Listen, I think that you’re hearing Charlie. I’m getting closer to death, you’re approaching life. You need to find Charlie, okay?”

                He was beginning to walk away again. In a panicked haste, Winnie grabbed his hand, and it brought her into a whole other place. Suddenly she could see what Colorado had been looking at.

                “Oh,” She gasped, “It’s beautiful.”

                “Yeah,” Colorado sighed with tear welling up in his eyes, “I can’t wait to see Molly again. It’s been a while.”

                “Winnie, please!” She heard from very far off.

                Another whisper followed, “I’m sorry sir, but we are quickly losing her.”

                “I can’t go with you,” Winnie gasped, realizing that her brother needed her more than she needed Colorado.

                Colorado turned to her with a smile on his lips.

                “I love you, Winnie,” he muttered as he pressed a gentle kiss upon her lips, “We’ll see each other again soon. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re really ready.”

                She let go of his hand and he was instantly gone.

                “Goodbye Blake,” Winnie whispered to the air, “Until then, I’ll miss you.”

                “Winnie, please, I need you.”

                “I’m sorry,” She heard the voice say, “But I think we lost… wait, she’s coming back. This is impossible. Quick, someone get me the defibrillator!”

                “Stand back everyone!” The voice was louder this time, almost shouting at her, “Clear!”

                Winnie was instantly surrounded by pure pain. The meadow was now filled with strangers in hospital masks.

                “One more time, come on!” Someone yelled, “Clear!”

                The next shock jolted Winnie into reality. When she opened her eyes the next time, she was no longer in the meadow.

                “Charlie?”

…

                “Isn’t it great, Charlie?” Winnie asked, happy with the sentence that her brother had gotten.

                “I’m still going to jail,” He sighed, “But I guess that had to happen.”

                “Thank you,” Winnie sighed, pressing her hand up against the cool glass wall that separated her from her brother.

                “I almost killed you, Winnie,” Charlie huffed, “Don’t thank me. You really should have told me what he had been doing to you. You should have called the police.”

                “I know,” She sighed, “I know, and I’m sorry. But I’m here now. And you only got ten years on voluntary manslaughter.”

                “Yup,” He chuckled, “An ‘act of passion.’”

                “Charlie, stop.”

                “Yeah,” He sighed.

                Then, changing the subject he asked, “So how was it, being dead for a whole four minutes.”

                “I still can’t believe it was only for four minutes,” She chuckled softly, “It seemed more like I was dead for four days.”

                “What happened?” He asked, “You still haven’t told me.”

                “I saw Colorado,” She said with a sad smile on her lips.

                “Yeah,” Charlie said, “And what did he tell you.”

                “That I didn’t kill him.”