Ghostwriter: Part 5

Orson held the book between his arms, twisting back and forth as he sprinted in the wet sands behind Vivian, who ran faster than she had ever run in her life, as Ethan leaned forward on his shire horse and was gaining on them quickly. Vivian saw the well in the distance, and then she looked over her shoulder and saw Ethan right behind Orson. Ethan stood on the stirrups on the saddle and kicked Orson in the back of the head; Orson tumbled over and rolled in the slush.

Ethan galloped past him and reached out for Vivian. She somersaulted to her right and dodged his grasp. Ethan circled back around and charged towards Orson. Orson opened the book and attempted to write an escape but the rain was washing the ink away as he wrote, dampening the pages. He shut the book and looked up – the shire horse stood on its hind legs above him and brought down its hooves with force. Orson rolled out of the way just in time and sprung to his feet.

“Vivian, go!” Orson shouted over the thunder booming the sky. Vivian shuffled a few steps back, seeing Ethan on the horse over top Orson, and ran ahead towards the well. Ethan lifted his arms to crack the reins and chase down Vivian but Orson grabbed hold of his calf by the pants and yanked him off the horse. Ethan smacked against the rocky sands and grunted painfully.

Orson shoved the book in a pouch on the saddle and placed his foot in the stirrup to hoist up. His shirt pulled against himself and was flung backwards; Ethan ripped him off the horse and straddled him on the ground. Ethan lifted his right fist and clenched it tight, whitening his knuckles. He punched Orson in the jaw, over and over. Orson’s head fell against ground, quickly losing his energy to fight back; Ethan lifted him up by the collar and swung hard into his eye. Orson slammed back down; his eye was bleeding and he spat up blood. Ethan stood up, looking down on Orson’s weak body, and lifted his boot over his teeth. He shot his knee up to thrust it down – Ethan collapsed to the side suddenly. Vivian tackled him away from Orson and rolled over in the sand.

Lightning struck in the black sky, making the well visible in the distance for only a second as Ethan stood up and found Vivian picking herself up. Ethan pushed Vivian’s shoulders back to the ground and then grabbed a clump of her long black hair and looked at Orson.

“Stay away!” Ethan yelled in the downpour.

Orson staggered to his feet and looked up as the raindrops fell over his eyes and down his busted lip. “Ethan, you don’t own her.”

“Yes, I do,” he denied. “I made her. I created her. She belongs to me.”

“She doesn’t love you anymore!

“I can fix it!” Ethan insisted. “I can write away everything wrong about her. It’s not too late!”

“The book is ruined. The rain is destroying it.”

Ethan looked to his right and saw, in a flash of lightning, the well in the distance. “I can in fix her. I can fix everything.” Ethan thrust Vivian away and hopped on the shire horse. He galloped after the well. Orson and Vivian ran after him.

The horse’s hooves slid in the wet sands and came to a halt just outside of the well. He jumped off and looked down. He could see at the bottom a few swirling sparkles of light, like twinkling stars, swimming in a pool of gooey blackness. He turned around to grab the book and saw Orson and Vivian just a few yards away.

Ethan took the book out of the pouch and stood on top of the stones that made the well. He jumped in.

“Come on!” Orson ran faster, pushing with all his might. He reached the stone and jumped in the well and dove down into the portal; Vivian jumped in after him.

Vivian felt a strange buzzing sensation that channeled throughout her whole body, her vision turned to whiteness and she lost all her senses.

When she awoke from the translocation, Vivian was lying on the hardwood floor of Orson’s apartment. She saw Orson lying beside her, beginning to stand up. Ethan found his footing in the apartment and looked on the coffee table in the living room. He saw beside a plate of cold chicken and potatoes was the book and the pen, dry and intact. He reached down to grab the pen when he was suddenly punched in the cheek. Orson swung hard and knocked Ethan back. Orson swung again but Ethan dodged and uppercut him. He stood over Orson and knelt down, strangling his hands around his neck.

“Vivian!” Orson gagged. “Vivian…”

Vivian stood in horror. She ran and tried to pull Ethan away but he shoved her back with incredible force into the dining table. Orson lifted himself up for a moment while Ethan pushed her but Ethan tightened his vise grip around Orson’s throat and squeezed. Orson tried lifting Ethan’s arms off but Ethan pushed down with all his might, shaking as he looked Orson in the eyes as he drained the life out of him. Orson felt his life slipping away, choking as he lost his strength to fight back. He couldn’t fit his finger between Ethan’s hands. He was about to die.

Suddenly, Ethan’s gripped loosened. Ethan began glowing white. Ethan looked up and saw Vivian holding the pen over the book. Ethan stood up – Orson gasped uncontrollably and coughed, finally breathing again – and charged towards Vivian. But as Ethan ran he turned into a blindingly white silhouette of himself, flashing into a ball of light, and then disappeared.

Orson crawled over to the coffee table and watched Vivian write in the book.

The rain loosened the sand beneath boulders that lay over top the well and Ethan. They tumbled down, bouncing at high velocity towards him. The boulder crashed into the well, destroying the portal. One by one the rest of the boulders came down.

And then the words formed on their own, without the help of Vivian…

Ethan slammed his fist into the sands and cried out with infuriating rage. The shire horse, starling by the collapsing rocks, galloped away, leaving Ethan in the canyon alone. And once Vivian left, Ethan’s soul left with him, for she was truly what gave his world life, though she would never be part of it again.

The book’s color desaturated and for a moment, like the life was sucked out of it, and then the color slowly reappeared. The title changed on the cover. The Great Escape of Vivian Myers. Vivian dropped the pen and fell back into the maroon couch. She sighed deeply.

Orson joined her on the couch and looked at her. She nervously leaned towards him and rested her head on his chest, feeling afraid. He wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s okay,” he comforted her. “He’s gone. He’s gone for good.” She wanted to cry but she couldn’t. They stayed there for several minutes in silence, taking in the reality that she was finally free.

She looked around the room for a moment and pointed gingerly in front of them. “What’s that?”

Orson looked up and saw she pointed at the TV. “Oh. It’s a television.” He leaned forward and grabbed the remote and turned it on. The screen welcomed them with a start-up message. Vivian was bewildered. Then the TV began playing a sitcom from the last time Orson watched.

She was confused. “How is it doing that?”

“It’s part of the technology that we have,” Orson tried to articulate. “It’s just… I don’t know how it does it, honestly. But this was already filmed and they broadcast it weekly.” He looked at her and realized none of those words made sense to her. “Basically, this is a story that someone made up and these people are playing it out for our entertainment.”

“Like the book?” she asked innocently.

“Almost.” He watched her sit up. Orson wanted to talk to her but he couldn’t tell how she was emotionally.

“This… this then is the… real world?” she wondered.

Orson nodded. “Except here you get to write your own story.”

She looked at him with her gorgeous green eyes; hope beyond understanding filled them. She smiled, bigger than he had seen her smile before. “Thank you, Orson.”

Orson smiled back. “Of course.”

“Maybe now you can write a book like you’ve always wanted.”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “I might just write this story.” She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, I won’t enchant it.”

She smirked. Orson looked her in the eyes. “How are you?” he asked genuinely.

She paused, doing her best to be honest. “I don’t know. But I’m better.”

“Good.”

“I’ve been with Ethan for so long that I don’t really know what to except in life, I suppose.”

“Don’t worry,” Orson reminded her. “You won’t do it alone.”

Vivian leaned on his chest and watched TV, falling asleep; peace came over her for the first time in too long.

The End.