True Love Never Dies... Part I of II
By Patrick Gillespie

The wind slowly blew over the dusty ground surrounding Jennifer's house. The dirt gently moved up with the air and then glided back down to the ground a few feet from its original spot, only to repeat the cycle again and again. The wind had a tail to tell. It knew the truth; it was inching at the ground because it knew the horrible secret that it held.

It had been ten long years. Ten years since Jennifer had killed him. "God, just an accident, a terrible, terrible accident," she would think to herself, repeating the phrase over and over to give herself comfort. She had hoped that time would heal all of her wounds, that after a few years she would be able to move on with her life, but she was still stuck in the moment. She could still feel her right hand clinching the knife and then forcefully thrusting it into his gut. He had loved her, he had loved her so much that he had come back to her, and she had killed him. She had killed him in cold blood.

"God, I'm such a monster. How could I do such a thing? What have done?" The thoughts echoed inside of her head. She had loved him too. It had only been in the heat of the moment that she had acted so thoughtlessly, so heartlessly. And it had all been over the lipstick on his shirt and the fact that he had come home late. The rumors of his cheating in the press had been eating away at her, and she had just become so paranoid. "Thoughtlessness, that's all it was, an act of thoughtlessness… there's no reason I can't go on with my life..."

It had not been easy being married to a celebrity. The constant nagging of the fans, the lapse in privacy, the grueling schedule. Had she known her high school sweat heart's singing carrier would have blown up to what it had been, she might not have agreed to marry him.

After his disappearance the press made a hung stink. "Where is Michael Smith? Has he gone into hiding? Is he afraid of fame? Has he been murdered?" Jennifer had insisted that they had once again broken up, and that she had no idea where he was. Rumors of suicide then popped up all over in the tabloid newspapers. The press's consistent interest in the issue frightened her. "No one must find out, no one can ever no what I've done. My friends, my family, my fans, I have too much to lose, too many people I'd hurt. God, if only I hadn't been such a fool!"

Jennifer sat slouched in her favorite chair starring at all of the posters on the wall of her late husband. She had wanted to take them down, but part of her still loved Mike. "Oh Mike, you look so beautiful, so happy, so perfect." The images were in large contrast to herself. She had been dealt with so much shame and guilt that she had really let herself go. The incident had scarred her soul. There had not been a day since the murder that she had felt good about herself. The media had buzzed about possible comebacks over the years, about Michael coming out of hiding, but the stories only left her feeling more ashamed about what could have been. Her ambition, her happiness, everything had died the day she had killed Michael.

The only hope left in her world was her new boyfriend Carlos. She had met him on the Internet two years ago. After developing a friendship they had decided to meet. He was so stunned to find out that his Internet friend was the wife of a former celebrity, and not only any celebrity, but also the world famous and once strikingly handsome Michael Smith. It had totally blown his mind. He had been able to get over it though, and after becoming friends in real life they had started dating. He did not mind that she no longer had the perfect body, he loved her charm and her personality.

Suddenly the sounded of the front door slowly creeping open filled Jennifer's ears. Awakening from her daydreams she casually turned her head to see who was there, but no one was there. The entryway to her house was vacant. Getting up, she walked over and using her right hand grabbed the knob and gently closed the door. "Was it the wind? No, the wind isn't even that strong outside. Maybe I just didn't close it good enough last time, but that would mean it was partway open all last night… nah, I'm not that forgetful. I'm over thinking this, there's probably a simple explanation."

Jennifer began to walk back to her seat when suddenly a horribly familiar voice caught her ear. "Jennifer, I've been watching you," her body hardened with fear, "and now it's time for you to join me." The message repeated itself over and over, each time becoming louder and louder, until it was literally screaming. "Please stop!!! Leave me alone!!!" She screamed, pressing her hands against her ears.

Carlos, Carlos would save her. He had always been there for her. He had always held her closely when she had nightmares and when she just was not feeling good. He would protect her. Jennifer ran up the stairs and into her bedroom where she suspected Carlos was.

"Carlos! I'm hearing voices, can you..." her voice stopped short and she looked in horror at the room. The voices in her head subsided, falling away as she gazed at the sick site in front of her. He had been ripped to pieces. Blood was splattered everywhere. Decorating the walls as if it were some demented Halloween fun house. Carlos' limbs lay motionless all over the room. What looked like an arm sat swimming in a puddle of blood in the middle of the bed. One of his legs had been ripped to shreds and was lying on the dresser, and worst of all, his head sat perched on a wooden spike, made from one of her favorite guitars. One the wall, written in blood, was the message "I've been watching you, and now it's time for you to join me."