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b'Episode Notes
A grieving and suicidal widow gets a very unexpected visitor on a snowly Valentine\'s Day, but nothing is quite what it seems...
Deb, Debbie, Deborah by Shane Migliavacca
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
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Transcript:
Deb Debbie Deborah\\xa0
The cat thinks I\\u2019m fucking nuts. She may be right. I\\u2019m wearing my nicest dress, Dean Martin is on the stereo and I have a gun to my head. I\\u2019m dancing with my dead husband on Valentine\\u2019s Day.\\xa0
Angel, our cat died three days ago. Her ashes sit on the mantle in an urn next to my husband\\u2019s. I see her on her favorite spot on the couch, watching me. She really is an angel now.
I pull the hammer of the revolver back\\u2026 I\\u2019m ready to join them.\\xa0
Click.
\\u201cSon of a bitch!\\u201d\\xa0
Empty.
\\u201cGood job Deborah.\\u201d\\xa0
I forgot the fucking bullets. I drop the snub nose on the coffee table. I haven\\u2019t found where Johnny hid the bullets.\\xa0
He bought the gun for me, worried about us being all alone out here in the boondocks. What good is a gun if the bullets are hidden?\\xa0
Excuse me Mr. Rapist, while I find the bullets to shoot you.
_\\xa0_\\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0
Maybe Johnny never got around to buying any.\\xa0
\\u201cAin\\u2019t that a kick in the head, Dean?\\u201d\\xa0
I drop to the couch defeated. My mind isn\\u2019t what it used to be. Grief and despair have pushed everything else out to the point that I have trouble dealing with day to day shit. It\\u2019s for the best I suppose.\\xa0
I\\u2019m not a religious woman, but I\\u2019d like to think there was something waiting you know? After\\u2026 that I could be with them in some kind way. If there is a God and suicide is a sin, I\\u2019d better not risk it. Being sent to hell, I\\u2019d never see them again. If you ask me, this is hell. This world.
Johnny. My Johnny. I miss that lopsided grin of yours. The way your stubble felt when you kissed me. How your hair fell across your eyes when you woke up. The touch of your course hands on my shoulders.
Gone. All gone.\\xa0
Five and a half years ago, a drunk driver named Dave Robbins. Johnny had been on his way home from work when the bastard ran a red light and struck Johnny\\u2019s car. I still remember the trooper showing up at work. He stood there in his uniform, looking so out of place. His words were unintelligible as my heart pounded in my ears. \\xa0
They gave that man ten years in prison. Ten fucking years! He took away our future and they gave him ten years. He got out in four for good behavior. Good fucking behavior. I dreamed about killing him for so long. How I\\u2019d do it, how I\\u2019d drag it out, make him suffer. I\\u2019d even toyed with the idea of killing his family in front of him.\\xa0
But no. There was Angel to think of.\\xa0
The cat, a house warming present from Johnny, got me through that first grim year.
She was there for me when I got home from another dreary day at work. Happy to see me, purring her feline heart out. She was such a tiny little thing when he surprised me with her.\\xa0
She hid under the couch for the first couple days, until one night I sat on the couch watching the evening news, waiting for Johnny to come home from work. I felt something small and warm curl up next to me. Now she\\u2019s gone to. I\\u2019m left all alone in this house that used to represent our future together. A house that\\u2019s become a tomb.
The house was so empty and vast when I\\u2019d come home from the vet carrying little Angel\\u2019s ashes in a small container. Nobody there to greet me at the door. I dread the thought of coming home after a day at work to this empty, godforsaken place.\\xa0
But I\\u2019ll have to.
I took a couple sick days, told Emily I had a bug. They don\\u2019t need to know the real reason. Most of them look at me with some sort of pity. Walking on eggshells around me. The others treat me as if this sickness in my heart can simply be sent away. That I should be able to \\u201cGet over it\\u201d and move on.\\xa0
There is no moving on. \\xa0
I could take some medication I guess. Something to help me. At the cost of this hornet\\u2019s nest of pain in my stomach. The pain that helps me remember them\\u2026 that keeps them in my thoughts. Would I lose their memory in a haze of medication?\\xa0
The record ends. I stare at the snub nose. I should really find those bullets.\\xa0
There\\u2019s other ways I could do it. Pills sure or the old razor in the bathtub bit. Those are easy enough I suppose. Hanging myself is off the table. I can\\u2019t tie knots for shit. Besides some idiot might think I was trying to get off and died by accident.\\xa0
Shit. Fuck it.\\xa0
The phone rings. I pick it up, looking at the number. It\\u2019s Cathryn Wade from work. Probably checking up on me. \\xa0 \\xa0
\\u201cHello, Cat.\\u201d
\\u201cHow you feeling trooper.\\u201d She answers in her unbearably cheerful voice.
\\xa0\\xa0
I lie. \\u201cOk, just a bit of a bug.\\u201d
\\u201cYou need anything?\\u201d
\\u201cNo, I\\u2019m fine. Thanks.\\u201d I want to hate her for caring. Damn it, I just can\\u2019t.
The phone crackles with static. \\u201cAren\\u2019t you forgetting something Deb?\\u201d Another voice asks.\\xa0
\\u201cCat? You there?\\u201d\\xa0
I can hear something metallic on the other end. \\u201cHave you checked the basement?\\u201d\\xa0
\\u201cWho is this?\\u201d I ask, my voice trembling. No answer. \\u201cGoddammit it! Who is this?\\u201d
\\u201cAre you okay Deb?\\u201d Cat ask, sounding a bit shaken.\\xa0
\\u201cYea-Yeah, just this bug. I think I need a nap.\\u201d
Before she can finish saying goodbye, I hang up.\\xa0
What just happened? I\\u2019m not even sure. I take a deep breath.
I get off the couch. Maybe I should just go buy some fucking bullets.
Looking out the window, I see I\\u2019m not going out anywhere today. The snow is coming down in a heavy white blanket. Frustrated I turn the TV on.\\xa0
\\u201cThey\\u2019re calling it the Valentine\\u2019s Day Blizzard.\\u201d The weather man proclaimed. As if he was proud father praising his golden child. These cocksuckers really piss me off in how much they get off on bad weather. I think they get hard over delivering bad news.\\xa0
\\u201cExpect record snow falls.\\u201d
\\u201cExpect me not to give a fuck.\\u201d I say. Wishing about now the gun was loaded, so I could shoot the TV.\\xa0
I never hated anybody till Johnny died. Now I can\\u2019t stand anyone. Most of all myself.\\xa0
The smiling weatherman is replaced by a nicely dressed Chinese woman. \\u201cThe day\\u2019s other big story: All but one of the escaped convicts have been captured.\\u201d
Police gather round an overturned prison bus in a ditch as the anchorwoman goes over the details.\\xa0
\\u201cPolice are still searching for Charles Lee Andru. Convicted serial killer and rapist. He\\u2019s considered highly dangerous, should you spot him\\u2026\\u201d
Why do these assholes always have three names? Is it a serial killer thing?
They linger on his face. He\\u2019s handsome enough, except for the scar over his left eye. Crazy burns hot in those eyes. Even in a photograph, you can feel his stare penetrating your soul.
Bored, I walk out to the kitchen. A drink maybe. And a sandwich.Dirty dishes clog one of the two sinks. I\\u2019ve let the house go to shit. Haven\\u2019t felt like cleaning since the cat died.
I pour myself a glass of brandy and make a roast beef sandwich. I hold a stainless steel knife in my hands. Catching my reflection on blade. The house isn\\u2019t the only thing gone to shit. I look terrible. My hair\\u2019s a mess and there\\u2019s bags under my eyes.
Fuck it all. Why should care how I look? It\\u2019s all a sick joke.
The blade quivers in my hand.\\xa0
So sharp. One of those \\u2018As Seen on TV\\u2019 jobs you can get at Save-Mart. Why, I bet if I just took the knife and sliced.\\xa0
\\u201cDebbie.\\u201d
A sweet, sing song voice echoes out from the living room.\\xa0
The TV?\\xa0
Has to be. A coincidence.
\\u201cDeb.\\u201d The voice giggles.
\\u201cWho\\u2019s there?\\u201d I call out. Feeling a bit embarrassed because it\\u2019s most likely the TV.\\xa0
I grip the knife. Stepping into the short hallway, I walk towards the living room. I can hear a soap opera on the TV. I stop and listen. Under the din of dialogue from the TV I hear the wind outside. The tic tic sound of snow and freezing rain against the windows.\\xa0
And then\\u2026 floorboards creaking with the unmistakable sound of someone walking over them.
\\u201cDebbie.\\u201d The voice giggles again. \\u201cCome and find me!\\u201d
\\xa0
I storm into the living room, ready to confront the weirdo intruder.
\\u201cYou picked the wrong fucking time.\\u201d\\xa0
Empty.\\xa0
I switch the TV off and I listen again.\\xa0
Maybe my mind has finally hitched a ride to crazy town. The house is still, silent, save for the wind and snow out side.\\xa0
The furnace in the basement rumbles on, making me flinch. I laugh like a maniac. Tears sting my eyes as laughter gives way to crying.\\xa0
I really have fucking flipped out.\\xa0
Wiping them away, I see them there, reflected in the black of the TV screen. Watching me from the hall. Darting away before I can turn.\\xa0
Scrambling to my feet, I grab the empty gun and give chase. I can hear them upstairs.\\xa0
"Yesterday, upon the stair, I met a man who wasn\'t there! He wasn\'t there again today, Oh how I wish he\'d go away!" The voice sang out from somewhere upstairs.\\xa0
I know that poem. From long ago, when I was a little girl.\\xa0
I creep up the stairs, no easy feat since they\\u2019re creaky as hell.
A door slams shut somewhere upstairs. How the hell did they get in? I didn\\u2019t hear anything. Everything is locked. I didn\\u2019t forget something, right?\\xa0
With a knife in one hand and an empty gun in the other, maybe I can scare the living crap out of them.\\xa0
Yeah, right.\\xa0
Why am I scared? I was thinking about ending my life moments before. No, it\\u2019s not death that frightens me, it\\u2019s what could happen in place of that. Rape. Being maimed. Being paralyzed. A coma. Those things frighten me. A living hell I can\\u2019t escape.
\\xa0
I search the upstairs, trying to look as badass as possible with an empty gun. That\\u2019s when it hits me.\\xa0
I am fucking nuts.
There\\u2019s not a living soul up here.
I search every room. Every nook. Every cranny. Under the beds. In the closets. Not a sign of anybody being here other then me. Nothing out of place, nothing touched.\\xa0
Feeling tired, I walk into the bathroom connected to the be'