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Chapter 15
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2024-10-29 19:42:56C H A P T E R 1 5 : O F F A N T A S Y A N D S U P E R N A T U R A L
“Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.”
Aldous Huxley, Complete Essays 2, 1926-29~
When I wake up the next day, it almost feels like nothing changed. But deep down in my heart, I know it did and there’s no turning back. I quickly take a bath and go to my office. I grab all the documents I got from Pete, along with the phone records, and head outside. I am about to knock on the door when it swings open, revealing a good-looking man in a suit. Two blazing hazel eyes stare back at me. A mysterious smile appears on his face as the corners of his lips turn upwards. “Julie,” his deep voice caresses my name in a way that sends shivers on my skin. “What can I do for you?”
“Remliel,” I slightly nod. “I need your help.”
He swings the open wider and lets
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Mr Fiction f o r e w o r d
~If tears could build a stairway,And memories a lane,I'd walk right up to HeavenAnd bring you home again.~MR FICTIONCopyright © Agatha RoseAll Rights Reserved.▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Mr Fiction d i s c l a i m e r
People think depression is sadness. People think depression is crying. People think depression is dressing in black. But people are wrong. Depression is a constant feeling of being numb. Being numb to emotions, being numb to life. You wake up in the morning just to go back to bed again. ~ This story will touch on the subject of "depression", "suicide", and "loss". While at the same time, it will have angels and demons inside it. The "mystery" surrounding Mr. Fiction. The attempt of finding one's true self and identity. The reveal of the past may forever alter the future. This author could only hope you will sit tight and enjoy the ride.
Mr Fiction Chapter 1
C H A P T E R 1 : D E P A R TBut she was not around, and that is the thing when your parents die, you feel like instead of going into every fight with backup; you are going into every fight alone. Mitch Albom~J U L I E S T. M A T T H E W S“He killed himself,”says the girl sitting in front of me in a flat, emotionless voice. It’s quite odd in one way and cruel in the other how she speaks with almost no emotion while talking about her late father. But people deal with grief in varied ways; perhaps that's how she tries to escape the pain and agony of losing someone.I scribble some words in my journa
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C H A P T E R 2 : T H E B L U E E N V E L O P E~Being depressed is like falling into a black hole that you can not climb out of. Depression is a wound that never heals. A wound in the back of your mind that can’t be touched because it hurts too much. It’s always there and never goes away. Constant pain, a constant reminder. Every thought is a battle, every breath is a war, and you will lose on both fronts if you give it a chance.Depression is a serious thing but you’re not entirely hopeless. There is hope, there’s a chance to win the battle. You can’t win a battle, let alone a war, on your own, this is precisely why you need your family and friends to help you in a lifelong fight to keep you from sinking. Reach out to others to help you get out of the black hole. You may not be
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C H A P T E R 3 : T H E L E T T E RA year later.His name is Toby Sanders. A twenty-five-year-old guy, a successful horror novelist went missing. Everyone thought he was doing his usual research, finding mysteries for his upcoming book.Sadly, it is not the case at all as he turned up dead the next day in the lake one hundred miles outside the city. He suffered two stabs on the back before he was drowned.Believing his story is interesting enough to be written, I run around doing my usual research about his life.I park my car on the side of the road and kill the engine. In front of me is the orphanage where Toby used to live.The headmistress, Sister Cecilia, finally agreed to the interview.At first, she was reluctant to share any details. The latest news about Toby’s tragic death has cause
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If tears could build a stairway,And memories a lane,I'd walk right up to HeavenAnd bring you home again.- Sarah Lugo, If Tears I put the bucket of flowers on the ground by the tombstone. "Mom, Dad, Nate, I'm sorry that I haven't visited you these last two years. I promise I will visit you every year and tell you boring stories about how's life been treating me. I promise I'll keep you updated so one day when we meet again, there's nothing you miss and it feels like you've never left."I feel his hand on my shoulder and turn to him. Even in a casual sweater and jeans, Remliel still looks as good as he's in suits. I lay my head on his shoulder and he holds me tight.Sometimes the hardest part isn't forgiving others, it's to forgive yourself.Remliel helped me to regain my memory but as the memory came back, so did all the pain and suffering. It wasn't easy to deal with. I remember the day I committed suicide. I was blaming myself for their death. Because they weren't supposed to be
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Mr Fiction Chapter 15
C H A P T E R 1 5 : O F F A N T A S Y A N D S U P E R N A T U R A L “Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.” Aldous Huxley, Complete Essays 2, 1926-29 ~ When I wake up the next day, it almost feels like nothing changed. But deep down in my heart, I know it did and there’s no turning back. I quickly take a bath and go to my office. I grab all the documents I got from Pete, along with the phone records, and head outside.I am about to knock on the door when it swings open, revealing a good-looking man in a suit. Two blazing hazel eyes stare back at me. A mysterious smile appears on his face as the corners of his lips turn upwards. “Julie,” his deep voice caresses my name in a way that sends shivers on my skin. “What can I do for you?” “Remliel,” I slightly nod. “I need your help.” He swings the open wider and lets
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C H A P T E R 1 4 : T H E T H I N L I N E B E T W E E N D R E A M A N D R E A L I T Y Sleep occupies a third of our life. It is the consolation to the woes of our days or the woe of their pleasures, but I have never found that sleep was a rest. After a swoon of a few minutes, a new life begins, freed from conditions of time and space, and doubtless like the life which awaits us after death. Who knows whether there does not exist a link between these two existences and whether it is not possible for the soul now to bind them together Gerard de Nerval, Aurélia
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C H A P T E R 1 3 : L I E S A N D W A R P E D T R U T H Be careful who you pretend to be, you might forget who you are. ~ “I’m sorry, Ms. Saint Matthews, but according to the record that we have, the house at 211 Roberts Rd, Ardmore, PA 19002 does belong to Mike Dawson,” says the short plump guy in a white dress shirt and brown pants. A gold-framed spectacle hung on the bridge of his nose. I frown. “Are you sure? How about the Saint Matthews? Do you have any records of them, their whereabouts?” I fish out my phone and text Stella while waiting for Pete, the officer, to search through the data on his computer. He’s the first person here who doesn’t mistake me for Juliet. Maybe the fact that he’s a fan of my books has something to do with that. Stella, call me as soon as you get this. I think Mom and Dad are missing.
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C H A P T E R 1 2 : F R A G I L E T H I N G C A L L E D M E M O R Y Memory nourishes the heart, and grief abates. Marcel Proust ~ As I am driving home, I remember that I have not called my mom today, so I fish out my phone and dial her number. Strange enough, she does not pick it up. I give it one more try yet still no answers. I toss my phone to the seat next to me as I focus my eyes on the road. Nate. My high school buddy. Why did they have the same name? Is it really just a coincidence? If it is, there are so many coincidences so far. Starting with everyone mistaking me for Juliet, Juliet’s friend has the same name as my baby sister. And now, her brother has the same name as my best friend. An idea pops into my head like a lighting bulb. Maybe I should go to Ardmore, visit my parents, and check my high school
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C H A P T E R 1 1 : C O N F U S I O N Your intellect may be confused, but your emotions will never lie to you. Roger Ebert ~ “No, you’re mistaken,” I shake my head firmly, refusing to pretend to be Juliet again. “My name is Julie. Julie St. Matthews.” A voice in my head is asking me if I was trying to convince her or myself, but I shut it off. With almost everyone I met saying thinking that I am Juliet, I can’t help to doubt the truth. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She raises her hand and tucks a few strands of her blonde hair behind her ear. “You just remind me of someone from my childhood. You both look so much alike.” “Was it by any chance, Juliet Matthias?” I decide to ask and see if there’s an opening. I know I am not going to pretend that I am Juliet, just like what I did with the nun, but I know if I say the correct name, there is a chance that she migh
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C H A P T E R 1 0 : T H E S T A T E O F M I N D Truth depends upon the intensity of imagination, not upon facts. Neville Goddard. ~ Right after I tried and failed to convince Bob to take on the new story instead of Toby’s, I find myself once again behind the wheel again on the way to the orphanage. I need to gain more information about Juliet Matthias, her life at the orphanage, and where she is right now. I have to prove to Bob that this story is bigger and more interesting than Toby’s.Something, call it writer’s intuition, tells me that the nurse will be helpful in gaining this information. It does not take longer than the previous visit to get to Sister Margaret. It almost feels like she is secretly waiting for me when I see her in her usual spot under the tree in the garden. “Good morning,
Mr Fiction Chapter 9
C H A P T E R 9 : R E A L I T Y V E R S U S I L L U S I O N Reality is merely an illusion. Albert Einstein ~ “Who are you?” I stare at the stranger in confusion. I know who he is, he was the man in my dream, but I have no idea that he could visit me in reality as well, standing on my porch with a mischievous devil may care smile across his lips. I thought dreams are just fickle of our own imaginations. “My apologies, where are my manners?” he replies, though he does not look sorry at all. “My name is Remliel Deveraux. I believe you are Julie St. Matthews, Katherine’s daughter.” I blink. “You know my mother?” So I have been dreaming about my mother’s friend?? Ew, how gross is that?! “I’m here on her behalf, actually.” He smiles again, yet it still doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s somet
