Flicker: A Novel By

By Jeanette Prather

The world is like a twilight zone for the brain; we all thrive within our own planes and write our own stories. We need to constantly shed our own sparkling histories in order to welcome momentary and fleeting infinite possibilities with open arms, because it's in these moments where the beauty in love and life lie. Now go live ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 16, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462825868

Book preview

Copyright © 2009 by Jeanette Prather.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

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Contents

PART ONE

Losing It

Peppermint Graham Crackers

Venice Beach Vices

Hollywood Sunsets

Big Bonnie

Sugarhigh Strip club

Say Goodbye To Hollywood

O What A Night

Eve’s Revenge

Karma

Super Paige

Kayaking Kreeps

Cherry Red

Waking Up

Je Pars

PART TWO

Spanish Astrology

Street Binge & Stolen Goods

Outa Luck

Breezy

Couch Hop & Homer’s Bar

Stuck Hero

Transvestite Unis et Les Femmes

Pretty Rhianna & Prince Simon

Spiderman Is Always Hungry

Escaping Lunacy

Peaked: Le Fin

This book is dedicated to the Savage Girl in everyone.

May she someday be released and run free . . .

. . . Parts of this book were inspired by true events . . .

PART ONE

Paige

Losing It

Paige squirmed on top of the loud onion-paper sheet protecting her from the hundreds of other patients that have sat on the chair before her as the doctor looked down onto the clipboard containing her recent medical complaints.

So, he began, still concentrated on her documents, you’ve been having back pain, cramping, irregular bowel movements, and nausea, but you know you’re not pregnant because you have had menstruation? His stern eyes rose up from behind his glasses and fixed on the clipboard before meeting hers.

Nervous, and slightly embarrassed, Paige nodded and justified his accusations with, Yeah, but also my period’s been really weird.

How so? He leaned forward in his chair and flopped open the top sheet of Paige’s medical papers, now fixed on a different set of information.

Well, Paige cleared her throat and the doctor looked up from leafing through her papers. She continued, it’s been very irregular, the amount and duration of each period.

He sat for a moment, staring at her before he rose up from his chair, clipboard in hand and mumbled, Hmmm. I’ll be right back with the test results from earlier.

He shut the door tightly behind him and the silence filled Paige’s ears. Her right arm twitched slightly and she looked down at her dark maroon nail polish chipping from her fingertips. She hated chipped nails, but kept picking at them anyway. There was a time and place for everything, and this was one of those times.

She’d been experiencing dull and bizarre pain for the past month and a half, and at first she thought she was pregnant, but after the erratic period indications she knew that she was not. So she wrote it all off as too much partying and not enough eating.

The doctors were the ones who insisted that she go through with the ultrasound procedures to determine exactly what was happening to her. She agreed.

There is a sense of helplessness in running to the doctor’s office the moment an uncomfortable feeling is discovered by the body, and Paige was anything but helpless.

She jumped a bit when the loud knock on the door woke her from her trance. Um . . . yeah, she replied to the knock, but the door had already begun to open.

The doctor emerged from behind the door into the sterile room and Paige could see his degree from USC hanging on the wall behind him. He was still holding the clipboard, but his expression was much softer than before.

Ok, he said, I think I know what’s going on here. He sat down and paused for a moment, staring at the new papers that he had just received from the lab.

Ok . . . Paige analyzed his every move and breath. Is it bad?

Well, that’s totally up to you. He looked back up at her on the patient’s table and prompted by her stares, continued, You were pregnant Paige, but you lost your baby.

What? A permanent state of shock had implemented itself on Paige’s face and she recognized it immediately, reviving those previous and frequent moments of shock throughout her life thus far.

Ok, the doctor began monotonously, you had –

Yeah, yeah. I think I understand. The questions were draining quickly from her, and in rampant defense she snatched one fast. How?

Well, when a man and a woman love each other – the doctor’s ploy at lightening the situation was set ablaze when he read Paige’s fiery stare, claiming, Thanks doc, now you make a joke!

The doctor cleared his throat, Sometimes, Paige, within the early stages of pregnancy, the embryo dies inside the uterus and the woman won’t know. Since you didn’t know that you were even pregnant, I take it you didn’t know that you miscarried . . . The doctor continued, In the medical field we call that a ‘missed miscarriage.’

Paige sat silently staring at the doctor for a moment before gathering up enough courage to ask, Well what now?

Well, the doctor began, there are a couple of ways to deal with a situation like this. One way is to perform a dilation and curettage procedure to surgically remove the embryo. After the procedure (which may create major complications for the woman), I’d prescribe drugs. The second (and far more practical solution for a woman in your situation) would be to dispel the embryo naturally. Your body, Paige, will rid itself of the dead embryo eventually.

You’ve got to be kidding me! Paige said to herself aloud as a warm swarm of fuzzy bleakness swept over her. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and watched the doctor’s office slowly transform into a mesh of whirlwind black blurs.

The blur turned white before smearing with a stroke of green and beige. Paige watched the multicolored smear streak its way across her vision. She could finally see that it was a person. It almost looked like a girl running; running wildly with fiery-blond dreadlocks flying behind her. Paige could definitely hear heavy panting. In her vision this running girl looked savage, she looked fierce. All Paige could make out was the passion behind her eyes, rimmed with an almost sheer terror. The rest of the image was blurred, just like the sight of the doctor’s office once more . . .

Without realizing she had even fallen unconscious, Paige awoke to the doctor easing her down onto the patient table and calmly saying, Paige, Paige . . . just lay back a minute. You’ll feel a lot better soon. The doctor handed her a small Dixie cup filled with cold soda. Drink this.

Paige suddenly felt a sharp pain in lieu of this Savage Girl. She craved her again. Oh God, she began to prop herself up on the patient’s table, and with the doctor now standing over her outstretched body, grabbed the cup from him and muttered, Thanks.

Well think of it this way, he began, you probably just experienced the worst of it.

True, Paige mumbled from the edge of her Dixie cup as the cold soda touched her lips. She took a large sip of the refreshing beverage, and her body temperature dropped.

Better? The doctor asked routinely.

Yeah, Paige lied.

Well sit tight for a little while until you’re feeling 100 percent, then you can go. The doctor stood up and finished with, You don’t have to make the decision now, but let me know within the next few days which mode of action you want to take, if any.

Paige watched the doctor in silence as he fussed about the office for a while, then opened the door and finally walked out of the room.

Peppermint Graham Crackers

She drove forcefully past the Body Shop, a very famous all-nude strip club where she was currently employed. Beginning as merely a waitress, Paige held back as much she could, but from time to time was known to get pulled up onto the stage by one of the more daring strippers and dance.

She was good, a natural dancer. It could have been the 15 years of dance training, or just that she had fun doing it, but most of the nights that Paige danced, she walked out the strip club with approximately $1,000.

Friends once told her that if she had started actually stripping, they would go up to the stage themselves and naked or not, pull her off by her hair. It all didn’t matter anymore because eventually Paige’s rebellion deepened so much that she ended up losing touch with any real friends she had due to her narcissistic nature and gluttony in self-indulgence. Evidentially people didn’t like being around that much.

However, being somewhat of a loner had paid off. At 20 years old Paige could go anywhere and do anything she pleased with no strings attached. That’s the desired life, isn’t it?

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Even more of a fiery rage sat at the pit of her stomach. Graham might understand and listen.

She passed the glistening Pacific Ocean that looked as though somebody had thrown a large handful of diamonds across the blue Saharan desert. It was a bright day, people chattering in the distance and milling about with nothing to do but just that. She stopped her car at the red light and heard the brakes squeal a bit. This pause gave that same taunting feeling a newfound motivation and it swelled up inside Paige, forcing her to press hard on the gas petal almost immediately after the light had changed. She zoomed up the windy coastline of PCH and basked in the lazy afternoon sun through her sky-roof, consumed by her furious passion for something that she did not know.

She slammed the door of her Pontiac Sunfire, creating a loud echo in the university dorm-parking garage before marching down the path toward Graham’s graduate apartment building. For a brief moment Paige questioned why she had chosen to come to Graham’s place, and instantly lost her footing. She regained control and walked with more gumption toward her ex-boyfriend’s apartment.

Three swift, loud knocks on the door was all it took before she heard someone still laughing from the last punch-line of Family Guy finally get up off the couch and answer the door.

Yo, ‘lil sis! Shouted Cody, Graham’s best friend at Pepperdine University, Where the hell have you been?

Paige’s pathetic laugh was acknowledged, and Cody replied. He’s in his room. I’m sure he’d be stoked to see you. He widened the door and stepped aside for Paige to enter.

Thanks, was all she could muster through a grit-toothed smile and dilated pupils. She’d had a bigger crush on Cody than Graham while she dated his best friend months prior, and normally found it hard not to flirt or talk too much, but this afternoon there was a buzzing around Paige that touched everyone nearby.

Cody knew the whole time, felt the same way toward Paige even, but this afternoon there was certainly something about her that told him to lay off.

She didn’t even need to knock on Graham’s door, she just raised a fist before the door cracked open and Graham appeared, telephone to ear and saying, So yeah, dad, golf tomorrow at 7 AM. Ok, thanks, you too, dad, bye. Without taking his hypnotic green eyes from hers, Graham clicked off the shiny portable phone and opened the door wider for Paige to enter.

It’s nice to see you still wear that necklace, Graham was looking down at the pinnacle, five-pointed star and Goddess emblem that Paige wore snug across her tan collarbone. To what do I owe this wonderful surprise?

She gave an uneasy chuckle after the necklace comment and pushed passed Graham into his room.

I need to talk . . . to someone . . . and you were the only person I could think of. Paige answered honestly as she plopped down on the edge of his solid bed.

Thanks? Graham teased, closing the door behind him.

No, listen, I’m sorry, Paige began playing with a shoelace from Graham’s running sneakers near the edge of his bed while she let her gaze drift downward. I just found out that I’m pregnant.

For a moment she considered lying and not finishing the rest of the story: Yeah, so I need some money to get an abortion, she would say, knowing that he had the money as something deep inside her belly told her that she’d need it.

Instead, her conscience took over and she broke the heavy silence.  . . . But I had a miscarriage and didn’t know it.

He sat and just stared at her wide-eyed for a moment before saying something. Oh God, I’m so sorry! Graham attempted the classic arm-over-the-shoulders comfort ploy and for the first time all morning, Paige’s tear ducts began to