A Story Gone Wrong

© Brigita Pavsic

Someone was following her. It wasn't something she heard or saw out of the corner of her eye, it was just some sort of presence she felt more in her gut than with her senses.

Paula abruptly turned her head to check behind her. The sidewalk was packed with people. Even if anyone was following her, she wouldn't be able to spot them. So she continued walking, glancing sideways to maybe catch a face she'd seen before. When she walked another two streets, she still couldn't tell where that disquieting feeling had come from.

She stopped at the same coffee shop as always. She liked to sit and mull over new ideas for her stories before she went up to her apartment and started writing. She still hadn't got rid of the feeling she was being followed, but she was certain a good cup of coffee would chase that cloud away.

"Here you go," said Esther when she put a cup in front of her and poured coffee into it. Esther was a kind, sweet and for the city remarkably unambitious girl that would most likely end up with a man who would exploit her naivety for the rest of her life or at least as long as it would take him to spot another prey. Paula thought she might write a story about her someday, but it would have a sad ending, as most of her stories.

Suddenly a shadow fell over her. She raised her face and was met with the most intense blue eyes she had ever seen on a man's face.

"Sorry to disturb you, miss, but I've been watching you and you looked so lonely here. Do you mind if I join you?"

A soft smile crossed his face.

He could've at least got a better pick up line, Paula thought amused.

"Well, I'm not lonely. I won't be staying much longer, either."

"My name is Bobby," he ignored her words and sat down.

She only told him her first name. Ever since her first book had become a bestseller she felt reluctant to reveal her full name.

"I've seen you here a couple of times," he admitted and then continued, "Today I almost ran into you when you came out of the florist's shop. I knew I'd see you here again."

"Oh, so that was you following me?" she asked stunned by his admission.

"I know it sounds weird and you think I must be a sick stalker, but I can't really explain it. I just felt like I had to meet you." His words implied he was insecure and unsure of himself, but his expression seemed determined, almost defying. Paula was alarmed, yet intrigued. He definitely looked like one of her characters, she had even used the same name in several of her stories.

Paula realized hiding her last name was pointless. Bobby had asked Esther about her so he already knew she was a writer. She was embarrassed when someone praised her work, but she was pleased to hear that he liked her style of writing. Before she knew it he asked her out and she accepted.

Later, when she thought about it, she had a feeling someone else had been talking to Bobby and accepted his invitation to dinner. Her actions that morning had been so unlike her that she wondered what had happened to her. The truth was she felt an unusual attraction to the man, and even after meeting him only once she had a feeling she had known him for a long time.

It took her three dates to invite him to her apartment to cook him dinner. She couldn't help herself but stare at him over the table. He was one of the handsomest men she had met and she still couldn't quite believe that he was the one who approached her and asked her out.

"Why are you staring at me? Do I have food in my teeth?"

"I was just wondering how come you picked me out of the crowd."

"You're a very special woman, Paula."

He reached for her hand and caressed her palm with his thumb. She raised her eyes and again she thought there was a special meaning in his stare, something beyond his words.

His statement led them to talk about relationships and he implied he had had a rather unhappy history with women, one woman in particular.

She didn't know whether he wanted to talk about it or keep it to himself. He smiled, "I guess you don't want to hear it."

"I do want to hear it, if you want to talk about it," she encouraged him.

"Sure? You won't feel awkward listening to me ramble on about a past love?"

She shook her head. "If it'll make you feel better …"

"Her name was Julia," he said after a pause, causing Paula to shiver at the familiar name. "We worked together for a long time. She was my best friend. I knew things would get complicated if we ever became lovers but I just … I couldn't do anything about it. She was like a magnet, I couldn't stay away from her and my feelings were too strong to ignore them."

He paused for a moment. Paula shakily asked, "So what happened? She didn't love you?"

When he heard her voice, he looked at her as if he had forgotten she was there.

"Oh, I think she loved me. When we got together that was the best thing that had ever happened to us. We were so good together, we were like one, as corny as that sounds. But we never actually said the words, you know? Well, of course you do. And I regret that more than anything else."

His ominous silence intensified Paula's feelings of dread. His story was so much like the one she had written a year ago that she started to fear he was there with a purpose. Her face was pale by now, her hands shaking and clammy, but he still held her right hand in his. She wanted the connection to be broken, so she pulled her hand out of his grip and he didn't make a move to stop her. Instead, he continued his story.

"Then I did something. I broke the rules. It was my fault and I tried to … Well, I asked her to help me cover it. I know it was stupid. I know that now, but at the time all I could think about was what that was going to do to my career. She refused, naturally. She always did everything by the book and that was one of the reasons why I admired her so much. So she reported me. I felt betrayed, double-crossed because the woman I loved went behind my back and told on me. I mean, wouldn't you feel betrayed?" he asked, startling Paula from her stupor.

"Oh, yeah, you're right. You're so right. But it's getting late, don't you think we should call it a night? Maybe you'll tell me next time …" Paula stood up, frantically trying to get him out of the apartment but he interrupted her, "No, you'll listen now. And you'll help me."

He pulled her back down into her chair, piercing her with his angry eyes. Now she was certain that he thought she had stolen his story and he wanted something in return. But she hadn't stolen it, it was a product of her mind, she couldn't help it if the story resembled someone's life. She pressed her clenched fist to her mouth, trying to stop herself from crying. God knew what he might do to her. How could she be so stupid as to invite him to her apartment?

"After that we drifted apart," he continued as if nothing had interrupted him. "I resented her too much to be willing to listen to her explanation and she lost trust in me. We just didn't seem to be able to find our way back. So she transferred to another office across town, away from me and from our past. I haven't heard from her since. I miss her and I'm empty without her. She took a part of me with her when she left. I need her back, do you hear? I need her back!" Bobby grabbed her hand again and squeezed it so tightly she felt pain shoot through her fingers.

Paula's eyes were brimming with tears but they had little to do with the pain in her hand. She was scared out of her wits. The situation she was in was bizarre. She found herself immersed in one of her own stories and she thought she was dreaming, but when she pinched herself under the table, she didn't wake up from the nightmare.

"You recognize the story, Paula? Don't you?" He looked at her wildly.

She managed to nod.

"Are you aware of what you did to us, to Julia and me? Do you know that this suffering will never end unless you write a happy ending for us?"

"But you can't be from a story, Bobby! These things don't happen. You can't just come to life out of a book," she protested shakily.

"I can't come to life?" he stormed, standing up. "I am alive, I have a life of my own. Did you think that when you write 'the end' at the margin of the page life just stops for us? Well, let me tell you something - it doesn't! We live and we have to live the way you write us and I'm not satisfied in the least by the way you have written Julia and me off! I- we want a new ending and a happy one, mind you!"

"What?" Paula exclaimed. But what followed caused the hairs on the nape of her neck to stand on end. Bobby suddenly stood in front of her with a gun in his hand. An impotent cry escaped her. She recognized it immediately. It was a Smith & Wesson, the same gun she had given him in her story and with which he had threatened Julia. If she needed a confirmation of his words, the gun was it.

"You heard me. You will change the ending of the story or else …" The gun finished the threat for him.

"But you can't ask me to do that. The story's been already published, I can't change it."

"It doesn't matter if it's been published, we just need the story written for ourselves, that's all. So you might just as well start now," he pointed to her computer on the desk in the corner.

"But …" She tried to protest, but he raised his finger to silence her. The look in his eyes was a blend of anxiousness and anger.

She stood up and walked backwards towards her computer, afraid to turn her back to him. He assured her, "I won't hurt you if you don't give me a reason to. If you do what I asked you to do, then I'll leave peacefully and I'll leave you alone forever."

She nodded, but when she turned away from him, she still did it reluctantly.

She turned on the computer, observing him from the corner of her eye. She opened the file with the story and prepared to start typing.

"I'll leave now but don't stop writing, because I'll know. If you stop or I won't be satisfied with it, I'll come back. And don't think you can run away from me. I've found you once, I'll find you again. Are we clear?" He waved his gun in the air.

Paula mumbled a quiet 'yes' and then he turned and left the apartment. The door closed with the finality of a period at the end of a sentence. Paula let out a breath so slowly the air stumbled on her lips. Her hands shook violently and her mind was racing. At first she tried to figure out what to do, but then she realized there was actually only one thing she could do. She skimmed through the last few paragraphs to see where she had left off a year ago. When she finished reading, she was left staring at an empty page with no ideas where to start. She had to begin and hope she would get more ideas as she went along because otherwise she didn't know how she would get out of this mess.

When Bobby left Paula's apartment, he walked aimlessly for almost an hour, thinking about what he should do. It had been almost a year since he last saw Julia. He needed to see her and to tell her how sorry he was. In the last year he had felt like he was half dead most of the time, he had no desire to live. After a year of pain he was tired and he couldn't take it any longer. He wanted back his life and Julia.

The walk down the hall to Julia's apartment took him longer than all the steps to the third floor.

He didn't know what to say to her or how to say it. He stood motionless for minutes before he raised his hand to knock. But instead of knocking he just leaned his palm to the smooth surface of her door. He couldn't do it. She was probably with someone else now and he had no right to destroy her new life. It just wasn't meant to be. They weren't destined for each other, he thought, for the first time in his life believing in destiny, only because that was easier than to admit that he was still the same coward he had been a year ago.

He lowered his hand to his side and turned back down the hallway. That moment the door behind his back opened and he jumped at the sound of it.

He turned to face a surprised Julia.

"Bobby? What are you …?"

She stared at him perplexed.

"What are you doing here?" she finally finished the question that had been cut off by her shock. He was silent for another moment, overwhelmed by seeing her after all that time.

"I came to tell you that I love you and that I'm truly sorry for what happened between us a year ago. I came to tell you that, but then I changed my mind - about telling you not about loving you - and wanted to leave and then you opened the door. You scared the wits out of me."

"What did you say?" she asked in a shrill voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to … What I meant was … Well, I meant what I said I just didn't want to …" He gave up his futile attempts to form a coherent sentence.

"What did you just say?" she asked again, trying to convince herself that she wasn't just imagining the words she had longed to hear for so long.

"What, that I'm sorry?"

"No, the part before that," she whispered.

"Oh? Oh!" His face brightened. "I love you, Julia, and I should have told you that long ago. I've loved you for years, I just didn't have the guts to say it. I stupidly thought the words were silly." He was afraid that she had moved on without him, started a new life. But what mattered was that she knew how much she meant to him.

"I've never stopped loving you, either," she whispered, but Bobby went on as if he hadn't heard her.

"And I'm sorry about everything I said and did to hurt you. I've wasted so much time feeling sorry for myself and blaming you for ruining my life. I've realized you didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry …"

"Shhh," she said, gently putting her finger to his lips, "I said I loved you, too. Let's just forgive and forget the rest, alright?"

He raised his eyes from the floor to her face. He had never seen her so beautiful.

"Come in, we'll talk," she opened the door wider.

At the other end of the city, Paula was sweating behind her computer. She didn't even dare to stand up and open the window to let the cooler night air into the room. She didn't stop typing since Bobby had left. She thanked God for the inspiration that allowed her to continue the story. Paula was terrified that Bobby wouldn't like it and would come back and shoot her. She wondered whether he was real enough to do that. This was the worst experience of her life and the fact that it had to do with something she loved so much gave it an even bitterer aftertaste.

She was nearing the end, typing the last sentence, ever more hopeful that everything would end okay, when someone knocked on her door.

She jumped in her chair, her heart racing. She had to take a deep breath to calm down and by that time another knock resounded through the room. She glanced at the door not sure whether opening it would be a good idea. Well, she had ended the story so she couldn't do much more about it, Paula thought. She stood up and cautiously crossed the room.

"Hey, I'm back," Bobby announced when she opened the door. Paula's eyes first perceived his smile and then the woman standing next to him.

"So this is how Julia really looks like," she murmured.

"This is her, this is Julia. Can we come in?"

Judging from his relaxed face he wasn't a danger to her anymore so she moved aside, letting them both in. She greeted Julia and invited them to sit on the couch.

"Oh, we're not staying," said Julia and threw a soft look towards Bobby.

"We just came by to thank you for giving us a happy ending," said Bobby, glancing at the computer. He made a step towards it and skimmed through the words displayed on the white page.

"So you liked it?" Paula asked hopefully. Her tension was disappearing with their amicable behavior.

"Yes, we did," said Julia when Bobby didn't move.

"Yes, yes, we did," he finally said after a minute.

Just as he was about to resume his post next to Julia, his eyes caught something that wasn't quite right. "Wait a minute," he exclaimed, causing Paula to jump.

"What? What's wrong? I did everything you said."

"You have to write THE END at the end of the page, otherwise this won't work," he said. Now Julia joined them too, looking at the story over Bobby's shoulder.

"He's right. You have to," she confirmed.

Seeing their confident faces, Paula wondered how they could know more about writing than she did. Yes, well, that was only natural, she thought after a second. She lived from it, they lived in it. A smile crept up her face at the thought.

"That can be done in a second," she said, glad that that was the only problem. She could solve it in no time. She sat down in her chair and placed her fingertips on the keys of the keyboard, when an eerie feeling crept up her spine and into the back of her brain.

She didn't know where it came from, but she felt it crawl up her nape causing the hairs there to stand on end and a wave of heat splashed through her. Then her earlier thought returned. She lived from it, they lived in it. Not any more. Now she lived in her own story, too. And that meant that by typing the final words to her story she would end together with it and with Bobby and Julia.

She turned scared towards the two people standing behind her. Their determined, almost menacing faces seemed to belong to strangers. She didn't recognize her own creations anymore.

"I can't."

"Oh, yes you can and you will," said Bobby placing the cold barrel of his gun that reappeared in his hand against her temple. The touch made her body shudder.

"But … But it means I'll end too. Don't you see?" she pleaded, tears blurring her vision of the two of them.

"Exactly. And if you don't, we still don't get a happy ending, and all this was for nothing. In fact, it was worse than for nothing. You've given us a taste of it and now you're going to take it away again. No can do. Write it," Bobby poked her with his gun.

"Please, Paula, you know how much this means to us. We love each other, we can't live apart forever," whispered Julia.

"She doesn't have a choice. She's going to write it right now."

Paula pressed the first keys, typed THE, then paused, took a deep breath and tried to calm her shaking fingers.

She repeated the E and then mistakenly typed M instead of N. After correcting it, she stopped. Before typing one last D she read the letters once again, THE EN. When finished, she was left staring into space. She blinked, at least she thought she did. Then she saw the computer was gone, her desk was gone, there were no walls to be seen.

She began to feel at ease again. This had just been a nightmare after all and now she was awake. But why is it still dark then? And it was getting darker and darker. She was disappearing into the darkness together with her room, Bobby, and Julia. She began to feel an eerie emptiness till i

The End