Deader Than A Doornail-4)

Bev Jr is busy hating her existance. She had become more alone and sullen than she normally was, which was saying something. She’d just drive (and fast), and question why she was this living zombie and why she didn’t just stay dead. Unlike everyone else in the fam jam, she could not just look past it. There needed to be answers and she was hell bent on finding them.

During one of her cry-rants, a very peculiar, and some might say absurd thing happened. With her eyes tightly clenched, Bev Jr saw dark water and submerged deep in this cold water was her. Not struggling or panicking but at total peace and still. She took in oxygen just the same way she did on land. And then suddenly, the family sedan came crashing in over head. She looked in and saw the family and the family looked out and saw her. Instinct kicked in and in seconds Bev Jr had helped everyone escape the car and make it above water.

Bev Jr opened her eyes to find herself parked and only feet away from where their vehicle catapulted into the drink. She became overcome in a florescent swirl of questions all pertaining to what exactly happened that night. Did she actually save them all? And if she did, they weren’t really dead after all? But.. why no memory between the accident and the next morning? What other pieces am I missing? Am I dead??

Her typical level of paranoia and self-loathing was light years darker and more intense. Rational thought was a luxury; to communicate with crazy, you must become insane. She couldn’t decide what was worse.. her family not caring about the incident and just moving on, or this huge puzzle piece revealed but with no black and white arrows pointing to the answers. It’s times like this when she wished she was a drug addict.

Meanwhile, at the Doornail house

The media is no longer staying away. All in the Doornail clan did find it crazy that besides the entire town of Flagstone Beach, there hadn’t been any reporters or cameras or questions forced down their throats. Still, a natural occurence amidst a scenario such as this, when a local family drowns in a horrific car accident then continues to draw air like every other Tom, Dirk and Henry on the planet.

Ralph would have typically called a family meeting via the astute and conniving Beverly but Elliot was more than handling it from the front porch. He addressed the horde of bloodthirsty reporters like he had seen in the movies. “I will field as many questions as I can but I feel like I should have some sort of podium. Can someone get one for me before we begin?” Dead silence was never less alive. He carried on, unscathed. He pointed at a lady wearing a chiffon blouse. “You.”

She looked left to right and squinted. “I didn’t.. have my hand up. But ok. Please tell me the series of events beginning with your family and you careening into the lake.”

Just then, a man emerged from the back of the crowd, assertively pushing the news seekers aside. He tromped across the sidewalk and icily half-embraced Elliot from the side. His hood covered his eyes and most of his face. Words oozed out of his crinkled lips. “Say no more. I was there that evening. Let’s go inside.”

Immediately, Elliot lead the man, as though he trusted him with his life or theoretically his death, into the house and shut the door.

A minute of quiet confusion went by for the crew on the lawn, cameras now off and microphones silenced. The chiffon lady spoke for the group. “Well that’s super retarded. Let’s pack it in, Clarence.”


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