Devil's Pact: A Writer's Tale
I stared at the blinking cursor on the screen. The bulletin board on my wall was a colorful mess of index cards. How was I going to write the rest of this novel? My brain felt fried and the nagging doubt and insecurities that were bundled up inside of me weren’t helping me either. In my mind I could hear the voice of my friend, Nick, another fellow struggling writer.
We’d gone out to lunch yesterday that had soon turned into another talk about how hard it was to break into the writing business. I tried to stay optimistic as I heard him describe all the piles of rejection letters in his apartment. I always used the old saying “If you can see it you can achieve it” although now I wasn’t so sure.
I felt that writer’s block was created to be a curse. As I sat at my desk I poured myself another glass of wine drinking it down. I was becoming tired so I went to bed hoping that the dose of inspiration that I needed would come to me.
The next afternoon I was at the library doing more research and browsed up and down the aisles of books when I noticed something unusual. I knew I was a sound person who never believed in the supernatural not until I looked closer seeing a copy of “Faust” glowing. It had an eerie and luminescent quality.
I reached for the book but as I pulled it out the glow faded; however, from opening the book the words appeared to be illuminated. Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder turning around to see a tall man standing in front of me. He was dressed in a black suit with a white tie.
“Excuse me?” I said.
He looked down seeing the book in my hand.
“Faust? Good book. Have you read it before?” he said.
“No,” I replied placing the book back.
His black hair was gelled back and his eyes were as blue as oceans. I stood staring for a moment before the words came to me.
“Who are you?”
“Oh yeah,” he answered, “My card.”
From his coat pocket he pulled out a white card and handed it to me. The card said.
Diablo Inc. 666 South 6th St.
Los Angeles, CA 90003
“I am in the business of granting people’s fondest wishes and dreams.”
“Yeah, sure. I think I know when I am being had.”
“This is no trick. Honest.”
I turned around and walked away throwing the card into a waste basket on my way out of the library. When I climbed inside my car I was shocked to see him sitting in the passenger seat.
“You scared the hell out of me!” I exclaimed raising my voice.
“Isn’t there anything you ever wanted or desired?” he said, staring ahead blankly, “Fame?
His words were striking a chord within me.
“Of course, lots of people do.”
“You’re having trouble completing that novel of yours?”
“Yeah,” I said puzzled, “but how did you….?”
“I can help you with that.”
I was afraid to ask though my curiosity compelled me to.
He pulled out another card and gave it to me.
“Come to this address at 2 p.m. tomorrow afternoon and I can tell you how.”
I stared at the card in my hand then looked back up to see him becoming a walking speck at the end of the block.
Next day I parked at the curb in front of the building and walked inside. My steps echoed through the empty lobby. I saw a listing of the building’s occupants on the wall. Diablo Inc. was on the 13 ½ floor. After stepping inside the elevator and pressing the button for the 13th floor, the elevator lifted as I looked up to see the floors changing numbers until it reached thirteen and stopped the elevator before it reached the fourteenth.
Although expecting to see an empty shaft, the doors slowly opened to reveal a large office with a reception desk in front and rows of cubicles following back. It looked like a normal office.
The receptionist was a young brown haired woman wearing a slinky black dress. She placed her phone back on the cradle and asked, “How may I help you?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Smith. I have an appointment at two,” I replied.
“Ah, yes. You are the writer.”
“Step right this way.”
She rose to walk with me past people on phones while others were mulling overpaperwork. In front of a copy machine, another woman stood by watching it spit out sheets.
We walked to the end of the hall where she opened a black door. I followed her inside suddenlynoticing the interior was much bigger than what it appeared to be on the outside.
On the opposite side of the room sat a large desk with four floor to ceiling windows behind it and to the left of me was a big fireplace next to a couch with a coffee table and end chairs.
“Mr. Smith will be with you in a moment,” she said, “Please have a seat while you wait.”
She motioned to the armchair in front of his desk. I sat down thinking that although everything looked normal there was nothing normal about any of this.
He walked in dressed like a lawyer with a winning smile grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat.
“Welcome. Glad you decided to come,” he said, “Anything you want? Coffee?”
“No, thank you.”
“I’m sure you are probably wondering about what I said to you yesterday.”
“Yeah, actually I am.”
From his desk drawer he pulled out a hardcover book dropping it in my lap. I looked at the cover of it and there it was, my name in bold print with a title at the top.
“How is this possible?” I replied dumbfounded as I flipped through the pages.
“I told you,” he said, “anything a person desires Diablo delivers….for the right price of course.”
“What kind of price?”
“Just your immortal soul.”
“My what?!” I exclaimed.
“Oh, no need to think of it that way. Don’t get caught up in the biblical language. It’s just a standard contract for all of our clients. We provide a service in exchange for something of value. And right now we’re running a one week risk free trial offer and if you aren’t completely satisfied we give you a full refund.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“A brand new life. You’ve wanted fame, success, wealth, popularity? You can have it all.”
He took out a contract and said, “All you have to do is sign down below by the X and viola instantly granted.”
I became wary and apprehensive starting to wish I had never found that copy of Faust though inside I felt desperate enough to cave into his offer. How much did I have to lose in only a week?
He pulled a pen out from his desk taking the cap off, and underneath the cap looked to be a needle of some type.
“Hold your finger out,” he said.
He pricked my finger as I held it up in front of him drawing blood from it by pulling back on the ink lever. He lifted it out replacing the cap. I sucked my finger to keep the soreness away.
“Brand new invention. Hyperdermic pen,” he explained giving me the pen.
“So if I sign this how soon does everything go into effect?”
“As soon as tomorrow.”
My eyes glanced down at the book, my book. It was written and published.
“You’ve got a deal,” I said signing at the bottom of the form.
“Wonderful!” he said smiling, “Satisfaction is guaranteed. You won’t be disappointed.”
When I left the office I felt both elated and foreboded remembering it was P.T. Barnum who once said that there a sucker born every minute. Did I just make myself another one? I cleared my mind willing myself not to think about it.
When I went to bed that night my sleep was restless until I finally slept for a couple of hours before waking up to the sound of waves crashing against a shore. As I opened my eyes I saw a patio door with bright sunlight streaming in. I got up and walked to the window looking out on to a beach. On the opposite wall there was a bookcase filled with a series of books that all had my name on the spines.
The bedroom was expansive. From the side wall I opened a set of double doors to find a big walk in closet filled with designer suits and expensive casual wear. On the bedside table I saw an envelope that only had my name on it in embossed black ink. I opened it seeing the Diablo letter head at the top. I read the letter.
Welcome to your new life and home. You’ve been a highly successful best selling author for the past four years. You live in Malibu where you work and play. Make the most of your experience. Have an excellent time!
Best Regards and Wishes,
I needed to see how the rest of this played out so I quickly showered and changed. Soon after I heard the front doorbell ring I walked across the big foyer to open the door finding Nick standing at the threshold.
“Hey, how you doing?” he exclaimed.
“Nick?” I said surprised.
“Yeah?! Who else would it be?” he said walking in.
“That’s all right. You’re probably still hung over from the party last night.”
“Yeah, you know, for the launch of your new book?”
“Oh…yeah. My mind must’ve of not of woken up yet.”
In the kitchen I found the coffee and started brewing it.
“Did the producer from the movie studio get back to you?”
“Movie studio?” I replied raising my eyebrows.
I tried my best to hide the excitement from my voice knowing everyone else was accustomed to this reality except me yet.
“No, not yet.”
“Did you see today’s paper?”
Nick pulled out the books section of the newspaper flipping it open to the second page. He laid it down in front of me on the table seeing in the top corner was the national best seller list of books and my name was at the top of the list. It was listed above all of the other famous authors.
“Wow!” I said.
Even though I should have said more, it was the only word I could think of to say. The ringing of the phone broke me away from staring at the newspaper.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey, congratulations on making it to the list.”
“Thank you,” I replied, “I just saw it.”
“I’ve already talked to the representative from the movie studio and they want to option your screenplay.”
“That’s great,” I said smiling giving the thumbs up to Nick.
“I will come pick you up this afternoon and we can all go over the details,” he said, “see you then.”
“See ya,” I replied hanging up the phone.
From the way the man on the other end was talking I could surmise he was my agent.
“So you got the deal?” Nick asked excitedly.
“Yeah!” I said enthusiastically, “They want to buy my screenplay!”
“I told you it would be a good idea to convert your book.”
Everything was being handed to me right away feeling I couldn’t have asked for anything more; although, in the back of my mind I thought back to the copy of “Faust” in the library and how it gave off its own aura. It kept me cautiously optimistic.
During the afternoon, I answered another bell ringing at my door. It was a man dressed in a black uniform with a chauffeur’s cap.
“I’m here to take you to the studio.”
“Thank you, I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
After making a quick change into a suit I followed him to the car and climbed in. Inside was a man who looked like to be in his thirties dressed in a power suit when his cell phone started to ring.
“Peter Maverick?” he answered then paused.
“Did you read it?” he asked, “Great, why don’t we setup a lunch for next week, okay?”
He listened and said, “Wednesday’s fine. Good, see you then. Bye.”
“Sorry about that, another client,” he apologized flipping his cell phone closed.
“That’s all right,” I said.
“I’ve already made a tentative offer so this meeting will be just to iron out the details and get them on paper.”
As we pulled into the front gates of the studio, I looked out my window seeing the bustle of activity around with actors taking breaks, stage hands carrying equipment and crew people walking back and forth going about their daily business in the midst of warehouses and trailers.
The limo stopped in front of a large two story office building that had the movie studio logo on it. We walked inside to see a woman wearing a headset greeting callers over the phone. The receptionist directed us to an office where we were greeted by three men.
One shook my hand with a smile on his face and introduced himself as Richard Thornhart, head of the studio. The other two men were Jordan Flynn, director and Kevin White, producer, who also smiled when I shook their hands. They were three of the most powerful people in Hollywood.
On the wall hung movie posters and behind Thornhart’s desk was a shelf of awards. It felt intimidating to say the least thinking perhaps I wasn’t completely ready for the bigger world I was about to enter.
“First off, we loved the script,” Kevin spoke up.
“Thank you,” I said smiling.
“We are prepared to put a sizeable offer on the table,” Richard said, “but before we finalize the contract we would like to screen test some actors first.”
Everyone walked into the conference room next door waiting for the first people to come in. One by one actors and models who were would be actors walked in with their head shots.
Jordan read a scene with each of the actors as I watched ; however, as more and more actors came in and out the more oblivious I thought I was becoming. After what felt like an eternity I looked up at the clock to see only four hours had past.
We met back in Thornhart’s office where he slid over a small slip of paper. I opened it up needing to do a double take then passed it to my agent who looked at it as well.
“Quite an impressive offer,” he said nodding his head.
“I want to start working with a location scout sometime this week to get the production rolling,” Jordan said, “except for a few minor changes we should be all right.”
“Minor changes?” I asked concerned.
“Nothing to worry about,” Kevin said, “We just want to make the movie more marketable to a specific target audience.”
“Yeah, based on your script we are possibly looking at the 18-34 year old demographics.”
If this was the way to get my screenplay made into a movie I was going to agree with it so I nodded that I understood, but as the contract was drawn up and everyone signed it I felt I was exchanging artistic freedom for just more wealth.
The limo drove me back home after the meeting to find a long white box with a ribbon tied around it sitting on the front porch. Inside I stepped into the living room setting the box down and gently pulled off the ribbon lifting the lid off. It was a dozen dead roses. I slowly walked back dropping the lid as I stood staring at the roses feeling a little shaken.
Suddenly, I heard a low creak coming from the front door. From the fireplace I grabbed apoker and slowly crept trying not to make any sounds. The footsteps came closer. I held the poker high preparing to swing ; although, when I quickly turned the corner I discovered Nick standing inside the room.
“Dude it’s just me!” he said excitedly holding his hands up in front of him.
I sighed lowering the poker to my side.
“Nick?” I said relieved.
“Yeah, what happened to you?”
“Nothing, it’s just that I got a box of dead flowers. It was outside on the porch.”
We went into the living room where Nick examined the box. He picked out the note card and read it.
“It says it’s from an anonymous fan,” he said, “Unbelievable. Fourth time in three months.”
I turned to him with a look of wiriness. This has happened more than twice?, I thought staring.
“Hey, everyone has got one or two crackpot fans,” Nick said.
“Yeah, I want to find out who sent these. This has gone too far,” I said aggressively looking at the box. On the back of the box was the name, address and phone number of the florist shop.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said as I picked up the phone, “Call the shop. They must keep records of everything.”
It was Wednesday before I knew it. On Monday when I called the florist shop manager he said the flowers has been paid for with cash by a woman a couple of days ago. There would be no way to discover who sent them.
In my bedroom I sat down examining the desk and the computer I worked at. On my leftsitting next to the printer was a stack of white pages of a manuscript. I turned over the stack seeing the top was the title page.As I continued to flip over the pages starting to read, I found I was blessed as a gifted storyteller where my ideas and thoughts flowed with mental clarity. It was the type of writing that people only dreamed about achieving after a long period of practicing their craft.
On Tuesday evening I got the call from my agent that I had a book signing appearance to make the next afternoon. It was already past noon and I was expected at the bookstore by one. Instead of being driven by limo I drove myself parking in the alley behind the store and walked through the back door avoiding the eager crowds and long lines waiting in the front.
The manager walked up to me and shook my hand.
“Thank you for coming,” he said warmly.
I acted happy bearing in mind how many excited people were looking forward to meeting me and having their book signed. After an hour of signing copies and having my picture taken with fans, I was finished, but as I walked out I noticed a new edition of Faust sitting on display. It felt like I was almost meant to find it.
I now remembered having read it back when I was in college and wondered what my literature professor would say to me now. Books were meant to imitate life which made me think what if it was really the other way around.
Upon leaving the bookstore I was feeling all right until I got to my car seeing there was a big “I love you” keyed into the hood. I rubbed my hand over it feeling the black paint flecks fall off as I looked down either side of the alley way keeping my guard up. In the back of my mind there was a part of me just waiting for the other shoe to drop and now it looked like I had just got my answer.
On my way to bookstore Kevin had called on my cell phone inviting me to watch the beginning of filming for my screenplay. They had already found the first location and by the time I arrived everything was in full production even though in the back of my mind I still had reservations about them making the changes.
When I walked past a few trailers seeing the food service tent, I picked up a cup filling it with some coffee. As I looked up I saw Samantha Wright, one of the most popular actresses in Hollywood, stirring her cup.
“Aren’t you the screenwriter?” she said looking up at me.
“Why, yes I am,” I said smiling.
“It’s a great script.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Sam, your scene is next,” said an assistant director walking by.
“Thanks Joe,” she said warmly then looked at me, “Why don’t you watch?”
“Really?” I said surprised.
“Sure. Come on.”
I followed her to the set but stood back to avoid getting in anybody’s way during the shoot. As the director called action on the scene I began to watch with great interest though something about it felt amiss. In the tent walking from the set I found another table with a stack of scripts.
I picked one up beginning to read through it. They made my movie into a dramaedy?!, I could hear myself exclaim out loud. According to the name of the script I found at home it was supposed to have been an action drama. The script had become part drama and comedy. The real question became would I compromise and see this as a fair trade off.
The cast that been chosen was great and my ideas were being realized on screen though I still felt I was getting the short end of the stick. I felt more and more nothing was turning out the way I would have hoped for.
I knew I had to go back to where this all started. I needed to go back to the same office building where I met Max. After I got there I walked past the building’s occupant list making me freeze in my place. The 13 ½ floor was missing.
I drive home to find a message on my answering machine. It was from my agent who persuaded me to come to a party that was being held this evening at a penthouse in Los Angeles. He said it would be good for me to network and hobnob with other industry people. As much as I was in no mood to go out I reluctantly got dressed and went to the event.
From the moment I stepped out of the elevator I walked into a large upscale apartment with a great panoramic view. As I walked into the main room a waiter offered me a glass of champagne that I picked up and sipped. From all around me I could see groups of people were talking and eating finger food. I knew I should have been impressed but all I was feeling was disenchanted. Everyone seemed to act so phony that I bet I was the only real person in the whole room
It became worse when my agent spotted me waving me over. I stood for minutes smiling and being polite to the group of other writers and publishers he was rubbing elbows with at the same time badly wanting to escape so I excused myself when my agent became distracted.
I walked outside to the balcony lifting my head upwards to the sky. Despite the glow of downtown from the other buildings below the stars above shined brightly in the blackness.
“Pretty site, isn’t it?” a woman’s voice said from behind me.
“Yeah,” I said plainly.
I turned to see a woman dressed in a long white silky dress with shoulder length blonde hair. She had a look on her face sensing that I wasn’t completely thrilled to be here.
“Though I am sensing you aren’t happy.”
“Am I that obvious?” I said smiling sarcastically.
“Yes,” she said back with a small laugh, “what appears to be the problem?”
“You probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me,” she said staring at me as if she was goading me into a dare.
“What if you were given everything you ever wanted but when you got it you weren’t satisfied?”
“If everyone got everything they ever wanted there’d be nothing to hope for,” she explained, “That’s the trouble with people today. They’re always looking outwards but they never appreciate what they already have until it’s gone.”
“But isn’t that what everyone wants…to achieve their dreams?”
“Oh, dreams are fine. They’re what keeps us going. The point is there are no quick fixes. It takes work, perseverance, determination and with some luck people do make it. It’s not an easy road but the journey is worth it.”
“Who are you?” I asked curiously.
“I represent Angel Publishing. We’re not as large as the big name publishers but we still do well. I hear you are quite the writer.”
I took another sip from my glass and said, “I do all right.”
"Well I know whatever choices you make in your writing career it will be the right ones."
She turned her head to a man’s voice calling her from inside.
“Well I think my public is calling me,” she said grudgingly walking away then turning back to me, “Think about what I said.”
“I will, thanks.”
As I watched her walk back inside she had given me a lot to think about. It’s true, there were no easy roads or quick fixes. I knew I need to get out of the party.
Driving my car to clear my head I kept going until I found myself in the hills where I parked and sat on the hood looking down at all the lights in the city below. Was this the life I really wanted for myself? Was it worth selling my soul for? I didn’t think so.
When I woke up the next morning I decided to run on my beach thinking of how I could break the contract. I didn’t have all the celebrity trappings before and it wasn’t perfect but at least it was my own life. A life poorly lived with no life at all.
“Hey,” I heard someone shouting running up from behind me. I turned my head back to see Nick sprinting to catch up with me.
“So how you’ve been? I haven’t seen you,” he said starting to run beside me.
“I’ve been okay,” I said, “Could I run a question by you?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“What if one day I decided to give it all up, the whole career, would you still see me the same way? Do you feel I’d still be happy?”
“I’ve been friends with you for as long as I can remember. You know nothing would change with us. As far as being happy only you can answer that.”
“You’re right, thanks.”
After finishing up I discovered a note taped to my front door and pulled it off. It said…
I hope you are enjoying your new life but time is running out. It is time for you to make your decision soon though if you aren’t completely satisfied with your experience before your time is up you will forfeit and we will collect the payment due.
I was in a deal I couldn’t get out off. However, I knew all contracts must have a loophole hidden somewhere and now it was just a matter of finding it. Nick came up the walk seeing the note in my hand.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I replied crumpling up the note.
I walked inside immediately going to the stack of pages sitting on my desk in the bedroom then started to light the fireplace.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“I’m burning my book,” I said throwing the pages into the fire watching it burn.
“I don’t understand,” Nick said confused.
“Easy. I met a woman who made me see the light,” I answered smiling.
A few hours later I heard a knock on my door. I opened it to find Peter standing there.
“Good to see you are at home,” he said walking in, “I have some really exciting news for you.”
He noticed the burnt pages in the fireplace.
“What did you do?” he asked concerned.
“I burned everything I was working on.”
“You what?!” he exclaimed, “Are you out of your mind?”
He stared in shock and said, “Well it’s all right because I just pitched your newest book to another studio and they want you to write the screenplay. Total creative control and input on casting. You know how rare that is?”
“To be honest suddenly I am not as interested as I was in the whole writing business. I think I want to retire.”
“Retire?! First you burn your book and now you say you want to retire. What’s with you?” Peter shouted angrily.
“Nothing is wrong with me. I’ve just changed my priorities, that’s all.”
“Fine. I’ll leave then come back when you’ve come to your senses!”
He stormed out slamming the door behind him.
It was early evening before Nick called to invite me to another party he was hosting. I decided to go for no other reason than to improve my mood. By the time I walked in the party looked to be in full swing catering to all of the neighbors who lived along the stretch of the beach. Nick and I locked eyes across the semi crowded room.
“Glad you were able to make it,” he said after I reached him.
“Well, I thought why not.”
“Go grab yourself a drink. The bar is open.”
Sitting at the bar with a tall glass of wine in front of her was a beautiful woman wearing a long revealing red dress. Her dark black hair complimented her deep set blue eyes. She appeared to recognize me when she took a sip. Her eyes lit up.
“Hey, aren’t you that writer?” she asked interested putting her glass down.
“That’s me,” I said opening a bottle of beer taking a swig.
“Wow, I’m actually an actress myself.”
“Really?” I questioned acting interested.
“Yeah, I must have read all of your books.”
“Thank you. I’m flattered but I am actually thinking of retiring.”
I walked outside to the beach listening to the crashing of the waves hitting the shore.
When I turned to look back I saw the woman from the bar had followed me.
“I’d like to be left alone if you don’t mind,” I explained.
“Please, hear me out before you push me away,” she said, “I’ve been auditioning and I read a book of yours is being turned into a movie.”
She walked to me slowly, barefoot, giving me the impression that she wanted more than just to speak with me.
“I’m sorry,” I said shaking my head, “I can’t do this.”
“I’d give anything to be in your movie,” she said close to my face, “Anything.”
She wrapped her arms around my waist as I pushed them back down.
“I’m not interested,” I replied sternly.
I walked back inside past Nick and said, “I’m leaving.”
“What’s wrong?” Nick asked concerned, “Hold up.”
From the sky thunder started to roll which soon turned into a heavy downpour of rain. I escaped with Nick in tow with me.
“What went wrong back there?” he said stopping me.
“Some actress tried to buy herself a movie role by coming on to me.”
“And you said no?”
“Are you crazy?! You have a gorgeous young actress throwing herself at you and you pass it up!?” he exclaimed standing soaked in the middle of the rain.
“Yeah, because for the first time I’ve finally comes to my senses.”
“Don’t worry about me. I know you’d like to get back to your party,” I said walking backwards on the beach from his house wiping the rain off my face.
The wind started to blow sending up currents of sea spray.
“It’s all right. They can do without me for a few minutes,” he answered walking towards me.
We got to my front door seeing it was opened.
“I locked that before I left,” I said staring blankly at the front door. There was a side window pane that been broken into.
Inside it was completely dark as we stepped in but once in I could hear a loudcommotion coming from my bedroom. I grabbed a baseball bat from the closet holding it high next to me. Lightening flashed through the windows.
I walked into my room seeing from the doorway the figure of a tall woman rummaging through my desk. Her long red hair looked matted and disheveled. She wore a short lacy black dress that clung to her body with dampness.
The whole room was a mess of papers and clothes thrown everywhere around the floor.
“What are you doing in my house?!” I yelled.
She turned around exclaiming, “You’re home. Did you see the flowers I sent you?”
“Who are you?” I asked defiantly holding the bat up.
“I couldn’t resist seeing your next book. I feel like I already know you.”
“I’m calling the police. You don’t move!”
“But I love you,” she answered lifting up a black revolver in her hand, “I can’t let you do that. Do you know what you’ve done to me? I am too far gone to go back.”
Her eyes had a glazed stared off look like she had lost all sense of reality.
“Nick!” I called walking back out as I dropped the bat.
“But it’s just supposed to be the two of us,” she said glancing as she turned the gun on Nick, “He has to die.”
I heard the click of the gun and tackled Nick to the floor. The shot hit the wall. We peered cautiously crouching low in the living room.
“Where are you?!” she exclaimed turning herself around.
“Get back to your place, call 911,” I said whispering to Nick.
Nick found his moment when she was distracted quickly rising up and running out the front door.
The lightening flashed again as I tried to move further away from her. In a brief moment she spotted me firing another shot in my direction. The patio doors blew open as lightening struck the sky leaving a brilliant flash of light. The light brightened on a sheet of paper lying on a table flapping in the breeze. The loud noises coming from the kitchen told me she was in there destroying everything in sight.
I stepped quietly to the table picking it up to find it was my contract feeling anoverwhelming sense of relief. I quickly paged through it until I came up to something that caught my eyes. “Unselfish Acts of Redemption” Under the clause it read that if the signer commits one truly benevolent act the contract is null and void. I pushed Nick out of the way, I thought. I crept back sitting close to the fireplace.
“You can’t hide from me!” she said coming out pointing the gun around.
At the moment she turned her back to me I grabbed the box of long matches from the mantle. I tried to light one with no success.
“Where are you?!” she bellowed.
I tried it again but this time it lit and threw both the match and the contract into the fireplace.
“I take it back! You hear me!! I take it all back!!” I exclaimed under my breath.
I watched the contract combust into flames. She turned towards me spotting the fireplace and pointed the gun firing a shot. A mirror crashed then…
I woke up feeling groggy. The dream was fading like a dissipating haze so I quickly pulled out my notebook from my night table to write down everything I could remember. It was all too real for it to have been just a passing dream and yet I was in my old room again. The world had righted itself. I walked downstairs seeing my materials for my trip to the library were still sitting on the table by the front door. Then I sat down at my computer and typed “Jake was a frustrated writer….”
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