PROLOGUE

I AM DOOMED TO HELL.  

I say this with conviction.  There is no forgiveness for me.  For the record- I do not deserve it.   

A short time ago I did a selfish thing.  I convinced myself that it was for her, but really I did it for me.  I must above all things remain honest if I am to tell this.  A sliver of dignity is all I have left.  So the truth is when I lost her I thought we had been, no, I thought I had been cheated.  Perhaps it was true, but I should have left well enough alone...

No matter how much it hurt.

The third of July.  The day before hot dogs, fireworks, and too much beer.  Did I mention the fireworks?  Someone always finds a way to blow off a finger or set a tree on fire.  It comes with the territory I guess.  Sirens blare and I shake my head and sigh.  Stupid assholes doing stupid things.  You say, Oh it could never be me.  I would never do something so dumb.  Until you do.  The thing is you never really see it coming.  Circumstances have a way of creeping up on you.  One by one, like cosmic LEGOS, clicking into place.  Click, click, click, then Red, White, and Boom!  You're deep in the shit and it's all rolling downhill and somehow you actually believe you can stop.  Or salvage the situation.  But it was never in your control, to begin with.  Of course, you see everything after the fact.  Hence, I can tell the story now.  Now that it's too late.  Demonic forces.  Blood sacrifices.  Who knew?  Who could believe it?  Not me.  Not anyone.  Certainly not Lia.  I'm broken.  

I'm writing all of this down for the priest who has asked me to document what happened.  I'll do my best, but the word...broken.  It surfaces from the pit of my stomach and rests bitterly in the back of my mouth.  

Broken.

Late in the day, there was a knock at the door.  I almost didn't hear it because I was making a baloney sandwich in the kitchen.  The knocking continued, growing louder, but not in a forceful way.  Just urgent.  I wish I hadn't heard it.  Wish I had gone out.  Been anywhere but home, but none of my wishful thinking means anything now.  

I pressed my eye to the peephole and recognized the woman from the rental office. She stood quietly, smiling a tight patient smile.  I'd said hi in the few times I dropped off my rent check, but nothing more than that. She seemed nice enough though.  

I opened the door and was immediately met with her eager eyes and wide grin,

"I had a feeling that you were hiding in there," she said rushing her words together.

"Yep, I'm home.  What did I do?  Forget to sign my check?  

She laughed.  "Oh, it's nothing like that.  I'm here on a fun mission," she said a handed me a red, white, and blue index card-sized piece of card stock.  I took it and saw the words "Rooftop Extravaganza" in big bold letters. 

"You're officially invited. We'll have food, music, and an open bar," she said emphasizing the last part about free alcohol.  

"OK. I'll stop by for a few.  Just don't go raising the rent next month to pay for all of this," I replied and she laughed and touched my arm. 

"Goodie, I'll look for you.  Might not see you right away though.  There are a lot of thirsty folks in this building," she said and paused,

"I think this is the longest conversation we've had.  By the way, My name is Julie.  Don't think we have ever been properly introduced." 

"I'm Harrison, but I think you probably already know that from being the Gate Keeper and all."

Julie laughed again.  This time a bit too loudly.

"Gate Keeper.  I like the sound of that.  Sounds regal.  Well, Harrison, this has been fun, but I won't keep you.  I have other invites to pass out," she said with a pout.  I forced a smile.

"OK, Julie I'll see you tomorrow then.  Thanks."

"My pleasure.  See ya," Julie replied in what I assume was her best sexy voice.  I almost grimaced, but kept a straight face and quickly showed her out.

What the hell just happened I thought to myself.  It really amounted to nothing in the end.  Just some harmless flirtation.  If only the rest of my life could have remained mundane, 

But it didn't.  

I spent that night playing Game Boy Tetris on my laptop.  Got into a groove as I recall.  Found this online site that had retro games.  It took me back.  I hadn't played that game in years.  Lost my Game Boy ages ago.  Somehow the thought popped into my head and I searched for it, found it, and was transported back to a simpler time.  It was mindless fun.  A true time waster, but now I would give anything to go back to maybe what my subconscious might have been trying to tell me.  

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Keep to yourself.  Stay out of harm's way.  

I looked up at the clock and saw it was beyond late.  Didn't matter.  It was the fourth of July and no one had anywhere to go except to cookouts or the mall.  I picked up the invitation and really read it this time.  It had the usual flair and stars and stripes, done up in raised-colored bold font, but something did catch my eye.  "BRING A FRIEND!  MEET A FRIEND!" It read and I smirked.  A thinly veiled hookup event.  That's what this was.  Fireworks were just the smoke screen.  

"Clever Julie. Very, very clever," I mumbled and laughed.  It was funny then.  Not so much now.  

I finally drifted off to sleep and woke up much later than I anticipated so I willed myself up off the couch and put on my loafers and grabbed my keys.  I didn't bother to change into something a bit more presentable.  I figured I would only be there long enough to show my face, possibly make small talk with Julie, if I had to, and then scarf down the eats.  

On the rooftop, I was immediately stopped by some weird guy who was new to the building, and he went on and on about the government,

"I'm forty-six man.  I've been around.  Seen a lot of shit.  I  don't care what anybody says, man.  They are collecting more personal information than any other country on the planet.  The internet isn't helping.  It's just take, take, take, take, take,  but whenever we ask any questions, those fuckers hide behind that national security bullshit.  Why do you think that is my young friend?" 

He smiled at me as if we just shared the same toothbrush.  I looked around cautiously and replied in a low whisper,

"I don't think I should answer," then added dramatically,  "Big Brother might be listening."  

My new friend paused and doubled over in manic laughter which gave me a brief window to duck him. I quickly pushed through the small cluster of people who were in an animated debate about what I guessed was some television show and made my exit to the opposite side of the roof. 

There was a filthy plastic lawn chair next to a large planter.  I guess it was white, or I should say it used to be.  Now it was faded and had a funky yellowish, dingy tinge with deep nicks and cigarette burns along the armrests.  I wondered how many people had been desperate enough to sit down on that thing.  Just as I took a step forward I heard a pair of hurried footsteps beside me.

"I saw it first," the voice said playfully.  I paused and turned,  I guessed she was around 5'9 or so, standing above most of the girls there.  In heels she'd look fantastic, I thought.  

Crazy what goes through your mind when you first meet someone.  I didn't have time to ponder anything else because she walked over to me past a few half-drunk thrill seekers, eager to see the bright lights, without any regard for what the day actually meant.

"I'm not much for crowds," she said, glancing over the bustling group. I noticed how intense her eyes were straight away.  They were piercing with a brief flicker of coolness just below the surface -an unsettling icy blue.  

Of course, they were.

"Neither am I, but it is a celebration so I struggle through," I replied.

She nodded and peered upwards.  The first streaks of light cut through the deep navy carpet of the sky.  The reflection of multiple bursts of white light danced across her angular cheekbones.  I watched as she bit her bottom lip and shrugged indifferently.

"So this is your famous Fourth of July," she said in her lilting accent.  Her voice was low and breathy, not quite a question but rather a statement; albeit contemptuous.

"Yep.  Every year.  Same thing.  Same result." 

Our eyes met again and I could feel myself wanting to look away, but I maintained.

"I'm Harrison."

"Lia."

"Are you new to the building or here with friends?" I asked.

"Does it matter?" she replied.  It wasn't rude, just a matter of fact.

"Suppose not."

"Are you here with friends… Harrison?"

"Does it matter?" I answered mocking her gaze.

She smiled.  "Suppose not."

The first time I saw death was with my father when I was twelve.  He took me hunting in the woods of Virginia and he shot a bird for no apparent reason.  Blew its head clean off.  I remember wanting to ask why he did it, but a little voice told me to rethink the question and wait for him to explain.  He didn't.  I learned that sometimes things happen when you least expect them to.  I don't know if that was the intended lesson, but I took it at face value.  I also learned something else.

Bad things happen and most times we are the cause.

Did I mention that she was beautiful?  I guess most people attracted to Hollywood are.  It comes with the territory.  I've often wondered why only attractive people can be ambassadors for the silver screen or television.  I suppose deep down we all want to be more than what we are, and these stories, even the mundane ones, are told through the eyes of those we wish we could be.   That's just my take on it.

I've never been into really pretty girls.  Not that I actually knew a lot of them, but there was always something I didn't quite trust.  Trouble always seemed to follow them, regardless to whether it was their fault or not.  Also, I felt like I always had to be on my "A" game.  I couldn't be myself; like I wasn't good enough.  Sure it speaks to my own insecurities, but I think it's really a normal reaction.  You want to impress for whatever reason.  Even if you have no intention of pursuing the possibility, it's that - the possibility.  However remote.  Subconsciously it lingers.  

Again, the few gorgeous girls that I'd met seemed to be magnets for misfortune.  Their boyfriends treated them poorly.  Other girls were jealous, even if they were nice and kind to everyone.  I wondered if this was the price for having what others only envied.

I asked Lia about this.  We were having breakfast at a little restaurant cleverly named, "EAT."

"I guess you're right," she said and took a sip of her green tea.

"Come on.  Surely you have an opinion.  I mean, you know what you look like."

"I just see the same face I've always seen.  I don't think about what effect it has on others," Lia replied.

"So it doesn't help?" I scoffed.

"I act to express myself.  I guess in a way to get away from who I am, so no, I don't depend on my face to do that for me.  Quite frankly it can't." 

I smiled.  It sounded like aunt with her accent.

She smirked at me, apparently reading my thought, but didn't bother to comment on it.

"Sure, if a casting agent thinks I look a certain way,  then I may get an audition, but I still have to do the work.  Pretty faces are a dime a dozen.  Especially in this town."

As if on cue the waitress came by and set our plates down on the table.

"Western Egg White Omelet and Frosted Flake French Toast, side of bacon."

"Thank you," Lia said and smiled at the very attractive server.  She deftly glanced at me as if to say see I told you so.  I nodded in defeat.

There was a brief silence between us.  I started in on my food and she did the same.  A moment later she looked up and said,

"I don't think you're shallow by the way."

"Thanks, I guess..."

Lia laughed.  "Unlike a lot of guys I've met, you never came on to me with some phony pickup line.  In fact, I'll go as far as to say that if I hadn't made the first move you wouldn't have ever approached me that day on the roof."

"Maybe I was picking my moment," I replied as she reached over with her fork and cut into a piece of caramelized banana that was on the center of my plate.

"That's cute," she said and slowly put the fork into her mouth.  She chewed, never taking her eyes off of me.

"I think you should know that you just stole my favorite part, " I said.

"Oh I think from now on I'll be your favorite," she replied.

I suddenly felt flush and knew I was turning every shade of crimson there was.

"Uh, where's the waitress?  I think I need some water."

Lia giggled.  It was wickedly sensuous.  I would later learn to hate the sound of it.