Chapters 1 & 2 Jamais Vu

8/3/2019 Chapters 1 & 2 Jamais Vu

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Chapter One

There is nothing easy about dying; not the act itself, and certainly not the coming back. My name

is Darby Lambert. Ive lived in Baton Rouge my entire life. This is also where I died.

I peered out of the window of my bedroom and sketched a picture of my dad loading suitcases

into his SUV. The massive vehicle reminded me of an overgrown boy, and the caricature Id

rendered of the beast took up the majority of the page. I left the unfinished portrait on my messy

bed and headed outside to make sure my sister Lindsey wasnt taking up valuable luggage space

with her needless excess.

My family had made the same trip every April for as long as I could remember. It was always the

same roads, the same cabin, and the same crystal clear lake in the Smokey Mountains. It was

long past the time when I should be taking family vacations. However, even at twenty-four,

it was hard to deny my parents. For this one week every year, we were a family. Id even called a

truce with Lindsey in order to keep everyone smiling.

Linds, youre not throwing my suitcases out so you can stuffanother pair of shoes in there,

huh? I looked over her back to peer at herpacking job, no doubt leaving oily fingerprints on the

glossy black surface of my fathers freshly polished Suburban.

Your one suitcase with the two pairs of blue-jean shorts, and the tank top well have to look at

all week is not in my way. Lindsey shot herbest I-hope-you-die-look my way and then flashed

a smile when Dad rounded the truck to check our progress.

The sky was a blue that lived right between cobalt and blue-green on the color wheel. What was

it called? Azure. Id only dabbled in painting, but there was no other way to describe the

seamless beauty of the heavens that day. I inhaled and choked as the wind shifted, bringing the

unmistakable smell of the paper mill across the river.


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Mom and Dad stood next to each other, lost in conversation. At that moment, they seemed

happy, normal. Moms blonde hair blew across her shoulders and wrapped itself in his salt and

pepper beard. I couldnt have sketched a better day to hit the road.

It was perfect until Evan Gauthier pulled into the driveway in his shiny red Beamer. For the life

of me, I couldnt remember why Id agreed to go out with him. It was obvious he was more

suited for Lindsey with his tailored clothing and shiny jewelry, but for some reason I couldnt

seem to ditch him.

He stepped from his car grinning, as though wed all won the grand prize in some insane contest

when hed graced us with his presence. No one spoke to him, no one except Lindsey.

She twisted a strand of her brown locks between her fingers and gushed, Hey Evan.

I thought I might vomit, but instead, I focused on his pressed khaki chinos and spotless white

button-down. How annoying could one person be? He was polished down to his teeth which, by

the way, were white because he bleached them every morning and never drank coffee or

smoked cigarettes.

Hey, Darb. He touched my hip, and I spun around, stumbling to the front of the truck to get out

of his reach.

Yeah, hey, I mumbled, looking to my dad for rescue.

Nice watch, Dad said, as he glanced from under the hood at Evan with one eyebrow raised in

amusement.

Shiny. I shook my head feigning excitement.


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I remembered then. It wasnt the show that irritated me, but the way Evan treated me. By the

time Id found my iPod and cell phone to stash in the back seat, hed already raked me over the

coals.

So, you gonna wear those shorts? Why dont you borrow something from Linds? His face

didnt move when he said those things. It was soft, as though it was the most natural thing in the

world for him to insult me.

I shot him a rude hand gesture and climbed into the car.

Aw, come on Darby. Youre such a mess all the time. But, you know I love ya. He leaned

across the seat and the smell of his cologne choked the breath from me.

I love ya. What did he mean by that anyway? Did he think I was fooled by his games?

Ill see you when I get back.

Or not. Id already jammed my ear-buds in my ears hoping to muffle any further charm from Mr.

Squeaky Clean.

I made a mental note to tell him what I thought of him as soon as I got back. He was waving his

cell phone. Call me, his lips curled around the words.

I pointed to my ears and turned away from him to stare out the window. I cant hear you, I

sang out softly.

I was lost in a daydream of kicking him between the legs when my dad reached through the

window and grabbed my arm. I screamed and then yanked the ear-buds out and scowled at him.

Jumpy? He grinned.


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A bit. Thought you were someone else. I glared over the headrest at Evan, who was engrossed

in conversation with my sister. Again.

Do me a favor. Put this in the glove box and grab the case for me.Its in the kitchen on the bar I

think. Those were the last words I heard, the voice of my dad as he handed me his most prized

possession.


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Chapter Two

Dad had always carried a gun. Even when we were kids, he had one stuffed under the seat of his

car and one in the drawer of his nightstand. They were never locked away, never out of reach. By

the age of ten, Id heard more lectures about gun safety than a recently enlisted Marine. By my

dads side, Id put in hours at the shooting range, and Id place my accuracy with a thirty-eight

against any trained marksman. That was why the entire thing was absurd.

My life pivoted on the next moments. There were so many small things that couldve been

changed, but werent. Too many lines inexistence that shouldve been smudged but werent.

There was a list ofthings Id never be able to alter. People make mistakes every day. Everything

happens for a reason. Id heard those words so many times. Ionly wish Id believed them.

It was quick. I felt the icy metal in my hand and popped the chamber guard openone, two,

three, four, fiveempty. As the gun spun around my digit, I felt the trigger rub against my

finger, creating the tiniest itch.

Did I count six empty chambers? Wait, I think I saw a

That was the moment I can never get back.

Where was the pain coming from? Maybe someone had pulled a poker from the fireplace and

driven it through my chest. No. I was alone. Where was I anyway?

The gun fell to the floor in slow motion, its descent tormenting me as I waited to hear it hit the

carpet. But it seemed to be tethered to my body, and my body had not yet fallen.

Oh God! Help me.

When a person drifts in and out of consciousness, the screams of others sound like her own.

They mix inside ones head. The person can hear her own moans and the words of those


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surrounding her, slurred by whatever emotion has squeezed their voice box. I heard my mother

yell. Was she yelling at Dad? Her voice was shrill. It was the first time I could remember hearing

her exact true emotion. She was angry.

Wow, I thought. No longer able to endure the waves of sound and light, I pressed my eyes shut.

Don, always the guns! Why? Why? She was hysterical, and I could hear him trying to calm

her.

It hurt to hear her attack him. It made my chest tighten even more and obstructed the small

breaths I was able to take. I wondered how hedever forgive her. Dont Mom! Its not his fault.

Could they hear me? Dont Mom! Its not his fault. Could they hear me?

Time was quick and slow all at once. I was Alice falling down the rabbit hole. I heard my sisters

voice and felt her hands on my chest. She was on the phone answering questions. I tried to

correct her, but the words wouldnt form.

Im conscious. I can hear you! Listen to me.

It seemed like mere seconds later when I felt a jolt and realized I was inside the steel cage of an

ambulance. All manner of medical suppliesjumped about on the metal shelves. Why couldnt I

hear the sirens?

Maam? Can you hear me? He was leaning over me, tall and fair, his face kind.

Yes, I can hear you. Cant you hear me?

He raised himself by holding on to a bar, which was bolted to the roof above him.


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A second later, he was hovering over me again, something in his hand. Please dontdont put it

on myHis white shirt brushed against my cheeks as he shoved a mask over my face. And then

it was dark.

Id always been afraid of the dark. Id made my parents line thehall with nightlightshow long

ago? Yesterday? Years ago? There was a lamp in my room, which was snuffed only when my

Dad changed the light bulb. I had to keep the bad guys away. I feared the things which lingered

in the shadows, the things I couldnt see. However, this was a whole new darkness. In this

darkness lurked anger, hate, deceit, and the claws ofcreatures I couldnt imagine scraping

against the slick floor beneath my feet.

My heart raced impossibly fast, and reaching up, I clawed at the contraption covering my nose

and lips. It was stuck there, and in the absence of light I struggled with it. It should have been

easy to remove, an oxygen mask. But this was no life-saving instrument. I pulled and screeched,

until the thing flew from my face. It clanked against concrete in the distance.

In a beam of light that emanated from a cracked door, I saw it. The muzzle was rusted iron and

lay open on the floor. I ran through the darkness to escape its binding, which still clung to my

jaws.

God, are you there? Where am I?

I couldnt stop moving as four hooded figures appeared behind me, each having unique mangled

features and arms wrought with decomposition, which reached out to seduce me. The heat that

emanated from them burned my skin, causing tiny blisters to appear and disappear. Sweat beaded

on my brow and streamed down my forehead.

God, help me. I'm scared. , help me. I'm scared.


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I dodged the figures, darting right and left, running in zigzags, as though I were running from a

true predator. They had no eyes, and the flesh against the bones that made up their faces was

anything but alive.

I ran harder, watching the blood cascade from the wound in my chest. It made puddles on the

floor. I slipped in the crimson pool under me and slid down a corridor past shut doors and

blackened windows. I found my feet and immediately learned to dodge the puddles.

A genuine fear spewed from that darkness. It was a fear I didnt have time to face. It was my

deepest phobiaall the light being sucked from my existence and no one to offer me a torch. It

wasnt just the light of the room that escaped me. I was losing the illumination of my soul and

I clamored to reignite it. There were beings chained to the wall screaming as though in horrific

pain, and they reached out to grab me as I ran.

God, am I still alive?

Could He hear me? Was He struck deaf like my family and the man in the ambulance had been?

The tortured souls were pulling at my bloody clothes, and I screamed louder and louder.

GOD HELP ME!

Then I heard a faint response.Run, Darby. Run.

Once again, I was on a stretcher staring at the man with the kind eyes. Only hed changed. He

was surrounded by a light, which broke in sparks from him and shot across the ambulance,

touching every surface.

Oh, let me stay here.

His hair was longer, browner, shinier. He bent at the waist, and I could smell the ocean breeze on

him. He was air and happiness.


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Hold me.

Darby.

He didnt speak. His thoughts became my thoughts, and I was at peace. This man loved me. It

wasnt the fleeting love of a friend in need. No, this was pure and unconditional. If I had yelled

or punched him, if I had hated him, he would have still adored me. I could feel it in the way his

gaze settled on mine offering comfort. This man was my brother or father. He was someone

familiar.

Dont leave me.

Yes, I managed.

I didnt need words either, but it was glorious to be heard again. He knew my heart, my mind, he

knew my life. The sensation ofembarrassment latched on to my ribs and squeezed. Hed seen

everything. He knew all the things Id done. This man had a window to what was good and what

was evil in me. There was no perfection in my life. Id neverclaimed to be without fault. He

knew Id judged; he knew Id sinned. He knew I was a liar and a thief. be without fault. He knew

Id judged; he knew Id sinned. He knew I was a liar and a thief.

No one expects you to be perfect. Do you love me Darby? Tiny electrical impulses moved from

his fingertips to my skin, and the pain was gone.

My gaze was glued on him. His face was a place of serenity where I could hide. I did love him. I

loved him more than I could express to him.

Where was my family? Did I pack my sweater?

Yes. My answer interrupted the derailment of my thoughts.


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Why couldnt I hear anything? No machines? No sirens? I was, without a doubt, dead.

Darby, Im sending you back. I need you to go back for me. Do you understand? His lips were so

close, his breath cold against my ear.

No. Why? I dont want to go back. I want to be with you. This is peaceful. This is nice. This is

perfect. Let me stay.

He reached up and moved my hair, which was pasted to my neck in blood. He was sunshine in

my face and love in my heart. Please dont leave me.

You have work to do. There are things I need from you. You will see them, Darby . His focus

hardened, as though he wanted me to understand the importance of his words.

Were those tears? I lost the sensation and warmth of his touch as he pulled away from me. With

each sentence, each word, he moved farther from me.

Come back. Closer. Please dont go. Ill see who?

His posture became erect, perfect, and he smiled at me. It was the most beautiful smile Id ever

witnessed.

He loves me. It was the only thing that mattered. He loved me.

Youll figure it out.

Before I could protest further, he reached into my chest and grabbed my heart. I sat up on the

gurney screaming. The monitors and sirens blared their alarm. My ear-bending scream sent

everyone running from me. The ambulance slammed to a stop, and gauze and instruments

wrapped in plastic hit the floor.


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The EMT returned, and as he flashed a light into my eyes, he hollered his words, not in my

thoughts, but for all to hear. Shes back.

GO!

Documents

Chapters 1 & 2 Jamais Vu