How Things Appear

Doctor

I’ve tried to be a decent person my whole life. I’ve given fortunes to charities, found ways to help the poor, done community service that wasn’t court appointed. I have ensured that the police don’t even know my name, let alone ever been called by, or for, me. My life has been nothing to many, yet everything to some. Even with all of the good I have done there is a darkness in me that many should be glad to have never seen.

I was just twelve when things began to change. The adults I had called my parents abandoned me without a word. One day I left for school and when I came home they were gone. I stayed at the house the entire next day waiting for them to come home; but, they never did.

They weren’t the friendly kind, so I didn’t know our neighbors and we had no extended family that I knew of. There I sat for three days, eating what little food I could make at such a young age and waiting on something to happen. On day five something indeed did happen.

“Pick yourself up. Go to school, graduate and become a doctor.” A voice rung out in my head, startling me as I poured milk into cereal.

Without question I did what the voice had said. I graduated top of my class, went to college and became a doctor. A heart surgeon to be precise. The scalpel felt natural in my hand, and with it and other marvels of modern medicine I have saved many lives. With the same scalpel I have failed too.

Those are the ones that haunt me at night. Maybe I had subconsciously failed on purpose. I have always been curious about death, I like to watch videos of death, I have always had a sick thought about what it would feel like to take a life. If I had meant to fail them, why would it haunt my dreams?

So, here I stand again. Over a patient whose life is in my hands. What should I do today? Is this patient worthy of a second chance?

Sarah

Here it is! The dress I have loved for two years now, finally it’s mine! My wedding is going to be perfect, everything is falling into place so well. Looking over at my mom I see the tears growing in her eyes.

“No mom! Don’t you cry because then I will too!” I wipe at my eyes and giggle.

“Oh dear, you’ll understand one day. I’m just so happy for you.”

“I know, thank you for everything! I can’t believe that it’s almost here!”

“Me neither, you’re dad is flying in tomorrow. I think he said he lands around two, so I’ll go grab him and we will be here by four to help you out before Friday. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect mom, thank you so much for doing all this stuff for me and helping me, I couldn’t do any of this without you. I love you!”

“Oh, I’m sure that you would have figured everything out just fine honey. I love you too, I’m going to go to bed though. It’s been a long day.” Her soft laugh fills the room, making me smile.

“I’m right behind you.” I follow my mom up the stairs of Mike and I’s Victorian house. How I love the original woodwork and polished wood floors. When we bought this house it was in shambles, and much like he did with me, Mike fixed it.

He never lost faith in this old house; again, much like he never lost faith in me. For five years he has been with me. For the first year he expertly navigated around my walls, depression, anxiety, and self doubt. His ability to listen to my problems and offer solutions on how to get through them left me struck.

Nobody had ever shown me support before, other than my parents of course. When men had found out how much I needed reassured they would bail as quick as they could. Leaving nothing but more self doubt in their wake. When Mike came into my life I was on the verge of suicide, an addict, and homeless.

He built me from the ground up. Never asking about my past, or questioning why I was the way I was. His eyes never judged me, his hands never hurt me, his words were never sharp with me. The only thing he has ever asked of me is to talk to him, let him know when I needed help, and know that he will never leave me.

Then he surprised me with this house. When he handed me a key I balled into his shoulder for an hour. His hands never moving from my back the entire time, ignoring his phone as it buzzed with clients texts and calls. I was, and still am, the center of his universe; and I will never understand why, but I am blessed that he views me this way. The only other course for my life is death.

I flop down on the soft bed and crawled onto Mikes side, he’s staying at his friends house until our wedding, and fall right to sleep. My brain projects images of Mike in his tuxedo waiting for me at the alter throughout the night. My life would be complete in just a few days.

Doctor

Another day down and more lives have been saved. Another hundred dollars to the charity of my accountants choosing, and now off to the bar. After the stress of the day I always have a shot of rum and glass of scotch. The combination makes my mind relax enough to let go of some of the stress from the day. Tonight though it does nothing.

“What’s going on doc?” The barkeep asks, I try to remember his name and realized I have never even asked for it.

“Just a patient from today. Another lost soul I believe.”

“Is anyone ever truly lost? Or is it the soul saying that others are lost that’s in more danger of being lost?”

I look up at the man and see him for the first time. He’s tall, and large in both the gut and arms. His green eyes have been hardened, probably from a hard upbringing. The challenge of a mental debate is on his face. I want to take him up on it, but decide I have had enough brain activity for one day.

“Eh, I guess you could be right. What’s your name by the way? I’ve been coming here for what, ten years, and I’m ashamed to say I have never caught it before.”

“No worries, doc. Names Ikey, everyone calls me Ike of course.”

“Nice to officially met you Ike, my names Jim.”

“Good to meet ya. You outa here?”

“Yeah, the sauce isn’t doing much for me tonight.”

“That might be for the best, alcohol has always seemed to make people worse when they’re in a mood like yours.”

“Thanks for the advice, Ike. Have a good night.”

“Night Jim. See you tomorrow.”

“Yup.”

I shuffle to the door without much more thought about what Ike had said. As a doctor I have found that some people’s opinions just aren’t worth noting in the limited space of the human brain. Although, he is probably right about not needing alcohol, nobody needs alcohol. Yet here I am every night after cutting into peoples chests all day.

The walk to my apartment is short, part of the reason I haven’t found a nicer bar to frequent. In ten minutes I am inside of my small, cozy apartment and showering. Washing away the unique smell of a hospitals surgical room as I hum along to Beethoven. I feel the change coming, before I can react my vision goes black.

Bernard

Why is the nighttime always so cold? Why do I always go for my walks at night? I know that its dangerous, especially with all the murders that have happened lately, yet here I am! Then again, this is the best time to help the needy. Speaking of which, here comes one now!

“Hey! Would you like a nice cup of cocoa?” My high pitched voice always embarrasses me, but I have gotten used to it as I got older.

“Man, what you playing at? It’s like eighty degrees out, who would want cocoa? You fucking with me man?”

“Absolutely not! I am sorry, I think its cold. How about some water, or some money for food tonight? I’m just trying to do my part.”

“What, because I’m black you think I’m poor? Fucks wrong with you man? You trying to get clapped? Fuck out of here.”

My confusion calms him down a little bit. I back up some and hold my hands up by my shoulders.

“I’m sorry. Please, I don’t want to die tonight. I swear I’m just trying to help people.”

“Put your arms down fool! You trying to get me shot? Fucking cops’ll think I’m robbing your white ass and cap me. Give me whatever money you think I need and get the fuck outta here.”

I go into my pocket and pull out the stack of twenty’s I brought with me for tonight. His eyes get large and I see him reach for his waistband and the bulge there. When his hand touches the bulge he looks me up and down, and brings his hand back up to grab the one bill I was holding out.

“Be careful out here man. Don’t pull out the wad like that unless you want one person to take it all, and probably your life too.”

“Okay, thank you for allowing me to help and giving me a tip to not get robbed! Have a good night, friend.”

“Brah, you’re crazy or something.” His deep laugh echoes off of the brick buildings that surround us.

I watch him round the closest corner and continue down the sidewalk. Every block I walk I find another homeless person making their homes for the night. Using cardboard, tattered old blankets, layers of clothes, and whatever else they could find to make a suitable bed.

To each of the poor souls I offered a twenty dollar bill, an address of the closest shelter, and a job application to a few fast food joints I know are hiring. I try to do this once a night; but sometimes other things come up and I’m not able to get out.

Sarah

One more day! Oh my god I cant believe that this is happening! I can’t believe I get to take Mikes last name tomorrow. I spring out of the bed with a large smile and ready to tackle the day. My mom is already making me waffles when I get downstairs so I sit and start on the coffee she had set out when she heard me moving around upstairs.

“One more day honey! Are you getting nervous or anything?”

“Actually no, I really thought I would be but I’m not at all! I’m just excited, like beyond excited, like I want to scream everything!”

Speaking through her laugh mom says, “I’m glad baby. I am so glad he came into your life when he did. He’s an amazing guy, I’m so happy for you.”

“I know, and thank you!” I get up and kiss my mom on the cheek.

My parents and I had stopped talking until Mike came into my life. They had tried four times to get me to clean up my act and paid for rehab each time. Their retirement savings were exhausted as were they when they finally told me no more. In response I shut them out, completely. Years of our lives I will never get back, but when Mike came into my life he helped me see that they were just out of ways to help. He encouraged me to reach out and repair the damage. Now it’s like those years never even happened.

“Is dads flight still coming in around two?”

“Yup, he just called and let me know that he’s headed to the airport now. He’s just as excited as we are about today, I could hear the smile in his voice.”

“I’m glad you guys like Mike too!”

“He brought our baby back to us, he has helped you when we couldn’t. We love him, Sarah just like we love you.”

Tears escape my eyes as a smile takes over my face. The conviction she said that with hit my heart like a hammer. They not only regained a daughter when I met Mike, they gained a son; an absolutely perfect son.

Mom and I start to go over the seating arrangements and called the caterer and cake designer and boutique place for the hundredth time to make sure everything is still good to go. When we finish all this mom has to go to the airport and kisses me goodbye.

Sitting down on the couch my body cracks and pops everywhere. The results of years of abuse and neglect have caught up and at twenty nine years old I have the body of a fifty year old. Mike’s pick of a sofa was probably thought out and designed to help me, my body sinks into the memory foam and caresses my body, taking away the pain.

I sit there reflecting on my life. Twelve years old is when I experimented for the first time with pot. The older boys I was with told me it would make me so much cooler if I got high with them. When I expressed my fear they made fun of me; calling me weak, scaredy-cat, pussy, and more. Having my feelings hurt I took the joint and inhaled deep.

To this day I swear that my lungs caught on fire after that first hit. Then the world slowed down, my worry’s left me, the anxiety of not being impressive to people went away, the anxiety of a changing body was gone, everything felt better. Well, until one of the boys kissed me. There was three of them aged anywhere from fifteen to seventeen.

I pushed him away and said I didn’t want to kiss anyone. When his friends laughed I saw his cheeks turn red and the fury in his eyes. His fist connected with my jaw and stars exploded into my vision. I couldn’t scream out because he put his hand over my jaw and squeezed the spot he had just hit, but the pain of them was worse than my jaw.

When they were done I laid there crying with blood coming from my mouth and crotch. The boys went back to playing video games while I continued to cry. A few hours later I finally was able to stand up and I limped out of their basement to a chorus of more laughter.

The next day in school I was stared at, laughed at, pointed and gawked at. I remembered the feeling of relaxation from before the rape and wanted that so desperately again that I went to the kid in school that everybody knows sells pot. He looked me over and pulled out a small bag of it and told me to keep my money. Everyday I would go back to the kid and get more.

When I ran out of money, I used my body to pay him. The need to feel the release of anxiety and stress was entirely too much now. When the marijuana stopped working I asked the kid for something else. He took advantage of my vulnerability and talked me into trying meth.

Addiction was instantaneous to it. The draw to have the rush associated with it was too much to ignore. It didn’t get rid of my anxiety or anything like that, instead it made me feel pleasurable and, in a way, good. The release from the worries of life and the gain of pleasure drew me in, again and again.

Soon the streets knew me and with that came the men twice my age. Then the pimp when I was seventeen found me and turned me out. Making money off of my addiction while I was being raped day in and out.

I escaped with help from a john that had became a regular of mine. He used me up and made me think he was in love with me and took me to his house. I fell in love with him, until he began to share me with his own friends. He would make me take three at a time or withhold the drugs I still needed.

Then he threw me out. With him gone so were the drugs, forcing me into the hardest withdraw I have ever faced. Almost an entire year went by without the sweet release of heroin or even weed. The need for it never subsided, it just got a little more tolerable; and with the tolerance came anger. With the anger came violence that presented itself in the form of self harm, and when that stopped working in the form of bum fights.

At twenty four Mike found me and saved me. Now I’m twenty nine, about to marry this amazing man, and back in touch with my parents. Life couldn’t get any better.

Jacob

The bum lover is out again. There he is, I see him in the reflections of the shops he passes. His naïve little walk, unknowing just how dangerous this street can be. Well, I guess he did find out in a way. I really thought I was going to see someone else murder a person tonight, but alas, it wasn’t the night for it; damn the luck.

It would have been nice to see murder from another perspective than just my own. I love the feeling of taking a life, I have never seen someone do it though; maybe that would be even better! Now I have to take a life tonight. The bum lover might do. It would be too easy I think. I need a challenge, if its not a challenge it’s not worth doing.

Who should I murder tonight? What criteria should I look for in the perfect candidate? Perhaps a man tonight, instead of the typical woman I have been slicing into pieces. A bodybuilder, or at least a wanna be, would be fun. The fight that could happen would be splendid! Ohh, the excitement I’m beginning to feel. The blood rushes to the parts of me that don’t work without the thought of blood.

My feet take me away from the little dweeb handing out his tiny amounts of money. My mind automatically sets the path for my feet and I arrive at the nearest gym in a matter of minutes.

I watch as men move heavy weights, sweat making their muscles shine as they restrict and relax repeating the same motions for numerous reps. I sit and watch for an hour or so before picking my target. He’s a younger man, probably in his early twenties, with Arnold Schwarzenegger looks, and a handsome smile.

Maybe I would take a few pleasures with him after I bash his pretty face in. Maybe not, only time would tell.

“Hey man, hey can I ask you something?” My voice comes out a little more earnest than intended.

“Yeah, bro what’s up?” A somewhat higher voice than expected comes from his large lips.

“I was just wondering if you could show me how to workout sometime? As you can see, I’m scrawny as hell and want to look better.”

“I’m not sure when I could find the time man, I’m pretty busy usually. When are you thinking? How serious do you wanna get with it?”

“I want to look like you dude!” I slap his arm and feel a rush from the firmness of his deltoid.

“This is years of work and supplements. We can get you in shape, but unless you’re planning on competing or something you probably wont ever look like this. No offense bro.”

“Oh, of course, none taken! I just want to know the basics and how to look decent man. It’s been years since I have touched a weight and I don’t want to jump into it without knowing how and hurt myself. I’m getting too old to risk injuries.”

“Yeah, yeah, I totally understand that. I feel like I’m a hundred already! Probably from working out my whole life. Well, I have some time now. I can give you some pointers in the gym real quick if you want?”

“Can you come back to my place? I have a little bit of weight equipment there and I can cook you up some steak or something like that, whatever you like.”

“I don’t know. I’m not gay man, but I’d be happy to come hang out and help you some.”

“Oh, yeah. Nothing like that! I’m not gay either.” I laugh hard at the thought. “I just need help and figured a nice dinner would be a decent payment.”

“Definitely! Where we going bro?”

Turning around I smile as blood rushes downwards.

Doctor

The woman is beautiful. The scalpel rests against her chest, a slight shake goes down my arm and I stop it before it goes into my hand. She’s been an addict, she was recovering, she’s back to drugs, should she live?

Bernard

I see a handsome muscular man walking behind a beaming man with something rather large protruding from his groin region. How odd. Whatever, as long as they are both happy I guess to each their own.

Something about the man in front of the muscular one looks off to me. His posture and walk seem sadistic in a way, almost manic. Another poor soul takes my attention away. I hand him a couple bills and continue to walk. Something about the couple has set off warning bells in my head.

They turn the corner and I speed up to keep sight of them. The duo have ducked into a small bar and I curse, realizing I left my identification at home. I didn’t like to bring much with me on my walks, for the fear of robbery.

I wait for them across the street. My eyes never leaving the door. The need for me to save people is too intense to leave the area, so I sit and wait.

Jacob

The dumbass wants to get a drink before getting to my place. I have to give in or risk him deciding not to come back to my house. So here we are, sitting at a bar. I watch as he drinks three bourbon and cokes while talking to a couple females who approached him.

He is moving to the pool table now, apparently this guy knows almost half the people here. There is a group of people around him now, mostly female. Whatever, after tonight these people would be able to say they were friends with the latest victim of mine. I wonder how much longer it will take for the news to give me my own name?

“Hello! You’re pretty cute, what’s your name?” A cute red headed woman stumbles up to my stool. Her black dress too short, and her eyes too wide. Maybe she should be the one tonight instead of the muscular popular man.

“You’re pretty sexy, and so…” I let my eyes roam over her. “Deliciously dressed.” I run my tongue over my lips at her.

“Hey, I’m NOT that type of girl!”

“Oh, I’m not the type of man to sleep with a possibly diseased slut after meeting in a bar.”

The woman was pissed and tried to slap me in the face. I grab her hand and my eyes turn to steel. The lust for her blood almost drives my knife into her chest. No, not here. My time for prison isn’t here yet.

Doctor

“Let us begin.” I say to the team of doctors and nurses hovering around me. The replacement heart sits beside us. My scalpel slides across her skin as the red droplets of blood burst from under.

Jacob

Finally! The muscular freak wants to leave the bar with me. His group of friends all wave goodbye and make some homophobic remarks about him leaving with a guy instead of a girl. The remarks annoy me, why cant everyone be inclusive? Jesus, what’s wrong with people? Get a grip. Let people love who they love. Stay out of others bedrooms.

Whatever, we walk towards my place. It’s not far from the bar. When we walk in he spins around and tries to kiss me, at the same time as I plunge my knife into his hard abs.

Bernard

I walk behind the couple as they go into the same building where I live. Oh, god, what if I’m just stalking one of my neighbors? How odd would that be, what am I doing? Everything is probably fine, there is nothing wrong here. I get on the elevator with them and am surprised when the other two get off on my floor as well.

Walking to my door I feel their presence behind me and try to get in my door as quick as possible. Somehow the muscular man had gotten in my place before me and spins around, I feel a gush of warm, thick liquid hit my chest.

Jacob

The thrill wasn’t much. I had stabbed too deep to let him fight back much. His hands uselessly swung at me, but I had already stepped back out of his reach. I smile though, the sight of blood pouring out of his otherwise perfect body makes me erect.

I smear his blood over my face, the feeling giving me pleasure. Pulling the knife out I plunge it again into his chest. The fresh blood is warm as I wipe it across my now bare chest. I see tears falling out of his eyes and notice for the first time how green they are.

“Wed… Weddin… Wedding… Tomorrow” His stammering stops when I plunge the knife into his throat. Screw your wedding, pal.

Sarah

Today is the day! I wake up with a start, it sounds like crying. My moms crying and screaming. I jump out of bed and rush down the stairs. Two police officers are at the door, one with their arms around my mom and the other looking at his feet with a uncomfortable look on his face.

“Mom, what’s going on? Mom!?” My feet keep moving, even though I was in underwear and an oversized shirt. The feeling of shame gone, the knowledge that my world is about to change forever jumping in my mind. My mom cries harder when she hears my voice.

“Mom!? What’s going on? What’s happening?! Is it dad? Is he okay?”

“No, it’s not your dad. It’s not dad…” More sobs escape her.

“What is it? What’s happening?”

“Mike, baby. It’s Mike.”

My heart drops through my stomach as I drop to the floor, my scrawny butt doing nothing to cushion the fall, but feeling nothing. The stabbing pain of the knowledge of death hits me like a freight train.

“Miss?” The free officer rushes to me and stops my head from crashing against the floor. “Miss, are you okay?” His deep voice reminds me of my pimps from before. I cower into his chest apologizing for running away.

“Miss, you didn’t run away, you have done nothing wrong. You’re okay.”

“My Mike, my Mike is dead… Isn’t he? I can feel it. He’s gone.”

The officer notices my engagement ring and sits on the floor beside me. He pulls my head softly into his chest and brushes my hair. I hear him say something else but cant think. I cant move.

I feel the walls build up inside of me. The desire for drugs, the NEED for them.

Doctor

I am the reason this woman is here. My need for blood is why this woman is here. I killed her fiancé. Maybe that’s why she ended up here, in my OR, because its my chance to set the universe right. Before the police arrest me. The murders have caught up to me. The sloppiness of her fiancé was the tipping point. Too many people had seen me in the bar with him, they had reported that. Now it would only be a matter of time before I was arrested.

The operation is successful. Sarah’s heart is new, and I have payed my debt to society for the loss of a splendid human.

“But have you helped enough needy people?” A strange high pitched male voice sounds inside of my head.

“We haven’t gotten enough blood yet! The news hasn’t given us a name!”

I try to shake the voices from my head as I walk to my office but am unable to rid my conscious of them. I hear the commotion behind me as I shut the door, locking it. Something tells me the commotion is something to do with me, and these voices.

“Get on the fucking ground!” Lights explode in my face. The darkness of my office gone, flooded with strobing weapon lights. The barrels of guns stab at my face, with angry police behind them. This is the way it ends for me. A bright light shining in my face, as the white light of everlasting glory lay on the other side. I move to slash at the closest officer with my scalpel and feel the punch of hot metal piercing my body.

I am thrown against the wall and slide down it. The diploma I worked so hard to achieve lay on my chest with blood pooling around it. I lie there while death’s sweet embrace takes hold.