Decoding the Past Changes the Future
Saturday, Morning
"Chief O'Brien, there is not enough debris to even tell if there was a body."
~~~~~~~
What happened to Meridian?
On Friday night, after eating a bit Meridian felt off. She turned up the stereo.
Fuck, how much worse could one day get?! Something is wrong. Screw it, I'm packing a bag and I'm out of here. I'll buy a disposable cell and call Connor when I'm away from here. I'm not playing victim.
Remembering the old dumbwaiter, she grabbed a bag and quickly packed. She heard a knock at the door. She climbed in the dumbwaiter with her bags, hurried and slammed the door closed. The dumbwaiter flew way too fast down the chute. She hit bottom hard enough to make her lose her breath. No time to lick her wounds. She had to go. She slipped out the back of the garage and down the alley.
Then she saw the blast.
Luckily, she had reinforced her walls to ensure only her floor would be destroyed if something happened.
Who was the person at the door? Was it someone to kill her or worse someone she knew? What if it was Connor or Marcus?
Watching the concussion of the blast hit her top floor she almost cried. She didn't have time to cry.
Meridian rented a cheap hotel room on Friday night with one of other fake identities. The visions came all night long in her sleep.
~~~~~~~
Meridian was having the same dream she'd had since she was a child. The flashes of images were incoherent. A man and woman so happily married. The woman and the man looked familiar but she didn't know from where. The next image was the same woman but pregnant with the man. She had always told herself they were the images of what she had hoped to have but there was more to it than that. The images were the reason she pushed so hard to stay with Ken until he cheated.
Then the bad images filtered through… three visions of death…three funerals…three little girls holding each other crying. She couldn't make out the faces of the girls since they were huddled together.
This time the vision was longer and different. A vision of her staring at an image of herself then the image changed, it was the same face and eyes but with hair the color of cinnamon. She put her hand out to hold hands with the image. They grabbed hands like children; two women holding hands. The image with the cinnamon hair smiled and turned away from her to look at another image. Once again, it was the same face and eyes but with fiery crimson hair. They grabbed each others' hands and smiled; three women with the same face and eyes holding hands like children playing a game of red rover. The three images made a circle holding hands each staring at each other and smiling.
Were these images different facets of her personality; the compartmentalized views of her life?
The 2
nd
woman looked at the 3
rd
woman and said, "My name is Alexandria." The 3
rd
woman looked at the first one and said, "My name is Trinity." The 2
nd
and 3
rd
women looked back at her saying in unison, "Your name is Meridian." The 2
nd
woman said, "Come to Seattle and find me. You cannot go forward without knowing the past." She then saw a vision of a mansion and an address.
~~~~~~~
When Meridian woke the next morning, she went over what she remembered of her childhood in her head. The first image she had was running and crying. There were blurred memories of living with nuns after that. They had called her Jane Smith. She saw herself in the mirror as a child. She remembered being punished continually by the nuns. She had overheard the conversation the night before she was taken to the orphanage. "The child is possessed an abomination and we cannot keep her here." Another woman spoke and said, "Take her to the orphanage tomorrow."
The time at the orphanage was horrible with the numerous foster parents they tried to place her with. The foster parents always returned her since they were scared of her visions. She suffered years of abuse at numerous homes. She finally ran away at the age of 16 and worked to support herself.
At the age of 22, she was working as a waitress when she saw a vision of the man she was waiting on being killed. She told the man and he laughed at her. Later he had laughed and joked with his superiors about the "vision" the mere waitress had told him about.
He was killed two weeks later. His supervisor tracked her down with the thought she had set up his friend. She woke up in a freezing room with no windows. The days seemed to lose meaning during the interrogation. Minutes merged into hours. The small room smelled of the room was of blood which reminded her of rust and iron. She was chained to a steel chair that was bolted to the floor; surrounded by bright lights. The man was not like other men, she sensed it immediately. He seemed older and smelled different than most men though he did not look a day over 30. Once again, she felt as if she was being persecuted for her visions.
On the second day of the interrogation, she felt the officer was doing something that was pushing into her mind. It made her head hurt. He hit her continually; after the nuns, she had learned to block the pain of abuse. He kept telling her to let him see into her head but she did not know how. She couldn't understand what he wanted.
Her fear transmuted into anger and hate. On the fourth day, something had snapped in her brain like a rubber band snapping. In a fit of rage, she screamed in his face. Her blue eyes turned to a dangerous color of gray reminiscent of devastating hurricane. She glared at him like a wild animal focused on its prey; hands clenched into fists so tight crimson blood dripped from her hands. He fell to his knees grasping his head. He flew across the floor and into the wall without anyone touching him. He was dragged out of the room screaming. Blood was dripping through his hands that were tightly clutching his ears and crimson blood flowed from his eyes.
