Open Windows-Chapters Twenty and Twenty One

Chapter Twenty

I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it.

Voltaire (1694 - 1778)


I felt myself being lifted up then, hot hands pulling at me and moving me to another part of the house. I thought that maybe he didn’t want her to see how he killed me for some reason.

I knew that my skin blistered where he touched me, but I no longer cared, I thought it was over for both of us then, I thought I had failed her as I had everyone else that I ever thought I cared about. Though the other times stung deeply, somehow knowing that I had let her down hurt worse than anything else, I knew it was Ray’s time then, and not something I did wrong and he had paid for as he had so many times as we grew up.

I thought then that she was dead and nothing else mattered. I couldn't understand any other reason for the "blue wrap" she wore and thought it to be some kind of death shroud as it surrounded her on the ground, I didn‘t see how she could breath thru it, though it did keep her alive, and would have saved her from burning if the room went up, though I was not to be afforded that protection. It was something he had put on her after he’d put her under, and it made her more beautiful somehow, it was protecting her though, saving her from the flames , she had never looked so beautiful to me as before then.

I didn’t see her as she saw him moving me to the other room and wanted to follow.

Knowing that was hopeless as she couldn‘t yet move with this protective blue coating, she tried to send me another happy memory, but her head swam with all the heat and she couldn't think of one.

She found that if she fought against it, she could not breath and had to force herself to relax and slow things down rather than rush thru them, though that made everything so maddeningly slow that she would tire quickly.

She sadly watched as he took me to the other room and she also began to think it was over now, her body swayed as she tried to focus, to stand up and think of something that might help but she felt hopeless, and that the end was near, she knew she was being confused by the blue shield around her and had to fight her way out of it or it truly was over.

She felt a sense of relief at that, thinking I was dead and it was over now. That it would not be much longer now and she would join me.

All the pain and the trouble would be ended with this day, and maybe we would meet in the next world. She felt at the least she could hope for that much, a small price to pay for all we had endured in this world.

But she didn't have the strength for that either so she just cried thinking she lost all that mattered, that she had lost her last chance at happiness after throwing it away and finding it again.

That didn’t sit well at all. She hoped I wasn’t made to suffer too much before I died. The lightning flashed in the room again, not very bright, but a blue hue now covered everything, making the even fire feel cool to the touch, and somehow that removed the blue film over her, taking it as it left the room in a flash of bright light.

She decided when Nemrul came back to kill her, she would take "one last shot" at getting him. She felt she owed me that much at least.

She knew he meant to kill her now, to be released from her and find another subject to protect. Nemrul actually thought he could exist without her, forgetting where he had come from, the blackest parts of her soul, the deepest and darkest parts of her memory, of her heart, along with the mind and soul of the most evil man she had ever met, a man she hid from his memory all this time, he had no idea who he was or what he had done before, she remembered.

"Go out in a blaze of glory" as they once said. “Live fast, die young and leave a good-looking corpse" isn't that what Fonzie said? Quoting James Dean, she thought to herself, almost laughing.

She held her breath, letting the blue of the room enter her lungs and stay there as long as she could hold it, when her breath came out slowly the blue stayed in there, and now it was pouring thru her bloodstream and feeding her anger.


I watched as Nemrul left the room for a moment and then walked triumphantly into the room.

I stood up and began to try and walk back the other way, thinking I wanted to die over there with her rather than here and alone. I wanted to touch her one more time, to feel her face and know how close we came, how happy we could have been.

As I got close to the doorway, Nemrul picked me up and threw me hard the other way, across the room and into the wall. I had enough time to look into his "face" and spit into it once before I was flung across the room again, I still had the satisfaction of hearing it sizzle so I knew it wasn’t any wasted effort.

I landed hard on my left side, breaking my shoulder as I rolled into the corner, my body screaming with the sharp pain.

I tried to sit up, thinking I didn't want to die on my back and that's when I remembered what I’d brought. There was still a chance to get him before I died I thought.

How he had missed it was something I didn’t want to think about, and I thought if I spent any time thinking about it he might see it after all and stop me before I could use it against him. I laughed at my enemy then, not just a chuckle or a smirk, but an all out belly laugh.

“Come on Nimrod!” I spat at him, “We ain’t done yet, there’s still some dancing to be done before I check out!” I mocked him, feeling his anger grow as he stood there and glared at me.

“My name comes from kings and you spit that out and insult generations of noble men over the ages!” He roared at me then and stepping closer to me, his hands clenching and opening as he did.

“Oh yeah?” I asked him like a schoolboy standing up the bully, “Did she tell you that or you made that up on your own?”

He had started forward but that one stung him hard, I could see by the way he faltered. It must have been something he had thought about more than once in a while because of that, I could tell that was one of the million dollar questions that he wanted to know the answer to.

What bothered him and confused me was that neither of us knew where that had come from, there was no way I should have known that and yet I did, and that I knew it was too much to bear for him he was blazing now, on fire from head to toe though he hardly noticed, and the ceiling above his head was dry and covered with black smoke burns above his head. I thought it would not take much for this whole room to go up now, even though most of it was wet from the steam bath he caused in there, he was red hot and getting hotter now.

It hurt where my face was cut but that didn’t matter to me anymore. The sting of it actually fed my laughter, but then maybe a little bit of Ray was there with me, because I could not help laughing out loud, and yet it felt as though it was not me laughing, as if there was someone else there doing that from behind me and I was hearing it and it was somehow amplified by my voice and sent out even louder, as part of a bigger message:

I am NOT afraid of you!

The words jumped out of me before I realized I had said anything at all, and it had the effect I wanted, he appeared now as if I had slapped him hard across his face and stung him, and then poured water over him because he was the same shade of blue as the “wrap” he had put around her as protection, then it quickly blazed again with a roar from deep in what was left of his soul.

I had to get my enemy mad enough that it wouldn't be thinking right, and it was working, he kept stepping forward and then backing off, as if he was either waiting for orders or so very unsure of what he should be doing next.

I pointed at him with my right arm, stopped and then laughed again, leaning over with laughter though that hurt my shoulder I still could not stop myself.

“If the pen is mightier than the sword, where do you think humor fits in there, Nimrod?” I asked him between laughing at him.

I was bending over with my laughter and holding myself up while holding onto my knee, just leaning over like that hurt as much as raising my arm like that but I didn’t want him to see that, I laughed even harder because I could see it was confusing him; he was used to people begging for their lives and not mocking him as I was. He started forward again, but was unsure of himself now, he was confused because he was not used to this and wasn’t sure what I was doing, what it meant.

Then, thinking he was tired of this game; Nemrul must have decided it was time to pick her up and take her home, kill me and be done with this dirty work.

He stopped when the sound of my laughter intensified, he looked around then, because the sound seemed to be all around him now he was thinking that everyone was in on the joke but him and that was not acceptable. He roared at me then, hating the sound of my laughter and slashed at the air between us.

He stopped and stepped forward again, unable to believe what he was seeing; he was now a short four or five steps away from me, that close to ending this all and I was laughing like a mad lunatic.

He looked across the room and all was as he wanted it to be, it could not have worked out better he thought. She was lying helpless in the other room, and I was too broken to fight it, even if we had started on the same level because we were in my world.

Almost everything had gone according to his plans, any variation of that had been fixed and worked around. I was on my knees with a broken shoulder and a nasty gash in my cheek. Blood still leaked from there as he watched, my breath coming in fits and gasps as I stood there and laughed at him, sometimes that laughter ended in choking gasps for air, but I was doing what I needed to, nothing else would serve my purpose though I felt I was delaying the inevitable, I couldn‘t fight him and we both knew it. His rage was building and he was almost ready to finish me off. Yet there I was, laughing as if this was all a joke and didn’t seem to fear or respect the meaning of the death I was about to endure at his hands, I should have been begging for mercy long ago, a quick death.

I still had those guns, but they were useless against him as he stood there. I fired at him anyway and saw the bullets pass thru and hit the far wall as he hardly paid any notice. The only evidence that my bullets hit their mark was a cloud of dust that came off his cloak as they passed thru him.

His rage burned brighter as he stood there, trying to comprehend this latest turn. Surely this was madness and nothing more. I couldn't be that strong...that brave...that foolhardy could I?

What made him hesitate and feel unsure of what to do was my strength, the fact that he couldn’t see or taste my fear as he thought he should have, it was confusing him, which is what I wanted and I knew then that I did have a chance after all, maybe we would both see the light of a new day after this was over.

As he hesitated I looked around the room for something else that might give me some advantage, some weapon I might use that would hurt him, but I couldn’t recognize the room, where I was in her house, even the paneling she had chosen so carefully was warped and leaning to the ground, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember which rooms were paneled and which were not, which room might have something that would help us, I couldn’t get any idea of what room I was in, I was as confused about where I was in her house as he was in my world now, though we had both been here in this place numerous times.

In Nemrul’s mind, she was his mother, his only family and he was preserving that, keeping it as it was and always would be, beyond “till death do us part” which was all Nemrul could think of now. He was going to kill her, but not here, this would not be a fitting final resting place for the only human he would ever love, he was going to go home and do it there.

That he would be killing his mother, his only link to life never occurred to him, and if it did he paid it no heed either, he was single minded in his task and tried really hard not to feel anything beyond his sense of duty, his role, his purpose in his life. It never occurred to him either that in ending her life he might also be ending his, but again, if he ever had such a thought he never revealed, never let it slow him down or detract him from doing what he knew he must do, there WAS no other way. She HAD to die too.


Chapter Twenty One

The man who is swimming against the stream knows the strength of it.

Woodrow Wilson (1856 - 1924)



In the other room, Erika was now starting to be more aware of what was going on around her. She was getting stronger now too, since the film had left her and she had taken that breath, she knew what she must do, what had to be done and there was nothing else for it.

The cobwebs were leaving her head and she was trying to stand. She thought someone had broken into her house and spread manure all over the place, because it smelled so terribly moldy and rotten, and everything she could was covered with a slippery dark green or moldy black now.

It had been so hot that all the windows were steamed and there were burn marks all over the floor. The plants she spent so much time caring for were all wilted and dying, paint sliding off the walls and making rainbow colored puddles on the wall and floor as it went. Even some of the windows had melted off the walls, open holes where the glass was stretched out and down until it almost touched the floor.

She looked around at her home, at what was left of it and all that she had lost that day and it broke her heart again.

She heard when I hit the floor. Heard the crack as my bones broke. Felt the pain in her head and then she smelled what I was hiding from this thing in her house. She was amazed that Nemrul didn’t smell it and tried to blot that out of her mind too.

She walked into the room in time to see Nemrul as he was moving forward and then stopping in its tracks, fists clenching and opening with his rage, she could feel the heat rising again even from where she was.

She was so happy to see me still alive though even from there she could tell I was badly hurt.

I saw her there and smiled at her, knowing she was alive, knowing that she was there to help me gave me such strength I was ready for anything.

She tried to get in front, or to distract him somehow, thinking she could still save me when she saw him charge across the room ready to kill me, leaving a trail of smoldering wood where he stepped.

She took her first steps towards him but it was hard to do and though she tried, she could not move nearly as fast as she knew she needed to. That's when she suddenly remembered the poem, sent with the flowers and her face brightened up.

The feeling in the room changed then too, it felt as though it had suddenly realized some one should have been paying more attention, it was as if she had opened the blinds and let pure light into this blighted room.

She moved her head towards the sounds in the room I was in, knowing without having to be in there and see it that I was in a lot of pain, and that if she didn’t react a lot quicker it would be too late anyway.

As saw as she stepped a little further into the room, I also saw that it was time. "Now or never" I muttered under my breath.

I had worked my way around the room while he was confused and was now close to my prize, to the one thing I knew for certain was going to kill him, I just had to wait for the right moment, which was close and I didn’t want to miss it. I saw him tensing and getting ready to charge and drew out my ”weapon" and prepared to make my last stand, holding it behind me so he couldn’t get away from me. I tensed and waited for it.

In a few moments, either Nemrul or I would win and until I saw her and knew she was still alive I didn't really care which.

But she didn't look like she had much strength left either, her steps were unsteady and she stumbled a bit as she walked, but I knew she came to help me and not him, and that gave me a shot of strength.

As I was thinking this, she said in a clear voice that sounded so musical right then, just as my enemy began to charge with what seemed like years of pent-up rage. She said:

"The sweetest flower must wear your face

And a scent that only speaks of you

I'd scatter the petals all over the place

To remind of my love for you"

It was my "5 minute poem" as I’d called it. The one I had hastily written for her at the restaurant on that napkin.

It had been so simple and yet she loved it. She knew I wrote it that way because of her love for flowers, her nice garden that stood outside of her home, the one she took so much pride in and worked so hard to maintain.

As she said that, and he started to charge, he stopped and turned with the distraction of her voice, the words distracting and then stinging him as if she‘d thrown acid in his face.

His entire consciousness a question mark as he stumbled and tried to understand what was happening, this betrayal by her and this defiance by me, he thought I should have been begging for my life now, yet I still stood, I still smiled at him thru my obvious pain. He was also surprised that she had found her way out of where he had left her, she should be under his power he thought, yet here she was, weak and…he stopped then, because he saw the blue tinge around her now, he watched as she took a breath, the blue tendrils going in and out of her nose as she did.

He couldn't believe she was there. Didn't she know it was over? That I was soon to be dead? Most important of all to him, WHY was I still trying to help this human? This man! My skull was to be added to his collection? How dare she?

That's when I turned, bringing out the flower that gave him birth, the worst one in the garden, her worst nightmare hidden in it‘s dark petals, the evil blackness that held her hatred for al those men, all of those bad memories hitting him at once with all their intensity multiplied by his anger. It was his life force and the only thing that could really hurt him.

I took it and forced it into his mouth and he started to burn, smoke pouring out of his face and where his lungs might be.

I side kicked his knee and brought him to his knees and then

I kept pushing it down his throat as far as I could though he tried to turn his face away, I jammed it far into his mouth so he couldn’t spit it out and then I hammered his jaw, breaking it in three places so he couldn’t open his mouth.

His outrage and fury grew beyond his control at that point. He thrashed back at me and knocked me back again, my head hitting the wall and making it spin around me again.

She saw what I’d thrust in its face and knew what it was. She knew then what she had to do, stepping in front of Nemrul before he could get up and charge again if he had the mind to.

"What are you doing?" he hissed at her thru clenched teeth. "You are helping HIM?" Though his mouth hardly moved I could hear that as clearly as she.

I had thought the "flower” would weaken it, like superman and kryptonite. I hoped it would anyway, and I was right, but her move to block him from me was also blocking me from Nemrul so I couldn’t see what he was doing.

As I got up again, I fell hard to my right, away from my broken shoulder but it still hurt when I landed, I pulled both guns and fired them at him until they were empty.

The flower did weaken him, and the bullets tore into him this time, ripping into his flesh and going thru it, and right into her as she stood next to him, though the bullets should have gone thru him and into the far wall.

Blood flowed freely from his body as he looked down in amazement, it was as if he thought this day would never come, as if his blood was something he never saw or knew would flow this way.

As she fell to the ground I ran past him and over to where she lay bleeding and I tried to check her, to help her and comfort her as much as I could.

“How?” Was all I could manage to say, I held her fragile body and it felt too light now, as if death had claimed most of her already and was about to finish with her when I interrupted.

"It was the only way to kill him,” she whispered. “You can see that now can’t you?” she asked me, still trying to smile, “I had to go with it, because I created it, I gave him life!”

"What are you talking about" I asked her. I lifted her and carried her over to the bed, carefully putting her down there.

I looked back and Nemrul lay there, smoldering but not moving, blood flowing onto the carpet and staining it black where it spread out like a demented flower beneath it him.

"It came from me. It was protecting me. It came from my anger, from my hatred that I buried. I almost killed you!" she said “And I couldn’t do that, or let it happen!” she gasped for air.

I tried to stop her from speaking, but inside I knew these were our last moments, though I tried to deceive myself and pretend differently, I hoped my face didn’t betray what I was thinking.

“Nemrul has killed others for me and you were going to be next!” she said, ignoring my efforts to quiet her.

"When I was abused, I went to another adult for help. He ended up doing it too. I’d meet a guy. I’d start to love him, and then even he did It." she started to cry again. “I thought it would never end!” she sobbed.

”I have no idea what to say” I told her, “All men are not what you had seen, my love for you was” and she stopped me by putting her hand to my lips.

“Pure and full of caring for me, you would have never hurt me, you would always love me and put me first, I know that!” she said weakly. I helped her to lay her head back, feeling her getting weaker as she tried to tell me what we both knew.

“Nemrul was my savoir after a while, always there and always protecting me. Getting even for me with my enemies. Anyone that got close. He even killed my father!” she cried into my chest.

“Those other victims that were burned” she continued, “They had either helped the men that had hurt me or were part of it somehow, most of them anyway, some of them were just in the wrong place and saw him, others died because he thought they knew where you and I could be found.”

All of this was so overwhelming, I was confused and yet it made sense now, but I was mostly worried about her wounds and tried to tell her but she wouldn’t listen, and knowing we only had a few moments together I had to hear what she wanted to say.

After checking her wounds out, I thought it wasn't too bad after all; I held her for a few moments, listening to her talk and then checked them again to be sure. I was able to stop most of the blood, but there was at least one bullet near her heart. " You'll be ok, I can fix this,” I said with relief, but still crying over her, even though I tried not to, I felt again that I’d let her down.

I’d said she would be all right but I knew better. I turned to look at Nemrul again, and he was now beginning to stir. His legs were moving and his head was coming up slowly. But he wasn't burning anymore. His hand was reaching for something to pull himself up.

I didn’t know who he was, but if he had seen a mirror at that moment, he would have seen the man he was, not handsome by any means, but not a man who could incinerate me at his whim if he chose to. He looked like the man that had abused her and then killed her baby.

I stood and turned back towards him, but I hadn't reloaded because I thought he was dead, and loading with one hand was not easy.

I kept one eye on him and tried to reload then but I kept dropping the bullets some of them would roll away and under the bed.

Then I dropped one gun and picked up the other, because it had one shot left. I hoped it wasn't a misfire as I tried to raise it to aim. I moved away from her to get a better shot at his head, thinking that if I killed the brain he would have to die.

As I did, she took the other gun and started to load it. I saw that and thought she was trying to help me again and fired the one shot into the thing rising off the floor.

Nemrul bellowed in pain and the sound hurt both our ears in that small room, but he was still getting stronger, I could see that now and didn’t know what to do next, there HAD to be a way to kill this thing, I could still see parts of the flower smoldering in his face, and in some parts of him I could see thru him, like the windows across the room.

I turned to her so I could get the other gun, but I saw that instead of loading it to help me shoot Nemrul, she had it pointed at her own heart as I watched a sad look on her face now.

“It’s the only way my love!” She whispered sadly as she pulled at the trigger and fired the gun into her chest, and killing herself for me.

In all the movies I had seen like this, I never thought or understood how things went in slow motion all the time.

But that's what happened right then, at the worst time, when I needed to move the fastest I ever could have it was then.

As I jumped towards her I yelled "no!" it came out really low and deep. As I started to move towards her, get close enough to dive at her I felt as if my feet were dragging in knee-deep mud.

I dived for her and reached for the gun and things were so clear and moved so slow, I saw her thumb on the trigger as she pulled it. There was a freckle in the crease where it bent. She had her red nail polish on that I’d liked but it was chipped at the end on her thumb, I could see where she had started to peel it away and was going to do them again, everything was so clear.

I saw the flash and bright red glow from the end of the muzzle and the smoke that trailed off her chest now as she died. I saw the look in her eyes, full of terror, as she knew she could not let that thing kill me.

“This was the only way“ she had whispered and I knew she meant that in two ways, first that he could not kill me if he was dead, and two that she had to pay for all those deaths and she knew it, her hands were just as bloody as Nemrul‘s. There was also the look of relief on her face, maybe even a look of peace at this all being over now. The last face she saw was the only one she ever really loved and felt love returned to her.

She had pulled the trigger just as I got there, the force of it knocking her hand at me and breaking my nose. I couldn't see if it was my blood or hers on me, but didn't care either. I pulled her close again and buried my face in her neck, screaming silently in my agony.

I heard him fall and turned in anger at him. Now I could see that he was finally dying, that much was clear, he was fading in some places and smoldering in others. I laid her down gently and kicked at the thing I hated so much as he was lying on the floor.

As I did, my foot went thru him as if I was kicking at an ashen image, but then the hood fell back and I was so shocked I couldn’t move for a few moments. I had all my answers I would ever need about him and what she was trying to tell me.

Nemrul’s head landed with a smack and bounced once, letting me see his face as if to be sure I knew who I was killing. It was her face. You could see it in there now that the hood was gone. But where her features were soft and tender, this face was coarse and mean. Where her hair was light, soft and curly, this was coarse and black, as if this was either a crude imitation of her looks, her appearance or some caveman drawing of what she might look like, the resemblance was there, yet it was crude and wrong somehow.

Some features were exaggerated or too distorted to be clearly defined but it was her face, I knew that for sure.

I went back to where she lay and thought again about how my fate had been set before me. Once again a woman I cared about took a bullet for me. Once again, it was a matter of time. With my brother it was five minutes either way. With my parents it was a rainy day. Now it was seconds, it was always a matter of time.

"Always a day late and a dollar short" I cried into her pillow as I lay next to her, taking her hand.

I don’t know how long I laid there with her, watching her still body at rest and trying to muster strength enough to get out of there, but the room was starting to smolder now and soon would be engulfed in flames.

After a while, I got up and took her keys. As I left, I set fire to the parts of the house that weren‘t yet burning. As I drove off in her truck, the last thing I saw in the mirror was the flames licking up the sides of the building.

I turned on her radio, hoping to distract the pain I felt in my heart, which was so much worse than the pain in my shoulder.

The radio sparkled to life, filling the cab with the music of Jimi Hendrix singing “Angel” as if he knew what was going on, as if he knew who she had been and what she had done for me.

As if the greatest guitar player to ever come along in rock and roll had been on our side, rooting for us along with the heavens above us.

Everything would be gone by the time they got there, and they might not find his body, as he seemed to be made from fire, and they might never get their answers as to why those other fires burned those other men, but at least that was over and there would be no more burning victims.

I wondered how much of her they might find, and if they would be able to identify what might be left of her, but then I thought since I carried her in my heart I had the best of her, I had her love.

That didn’t give me a lot of hope though, it could only carry me so far and in truth it didn’t make it any easier to go on without her, to have a bright outlook on the future.

The woman I loved was gone again; the empty feeling that filled my heart was almost overwhelming.

Her garden and the memories she had, the garden and the home she took pride in, worked so hard on.

The brief moments of happiness we shared that were only that now, memories of a long ago time we shared and that had come and gone.

I drove on and tried to imagine a good side to this, some silver lining in that dark cloud but could only see her smile, hear her laughter and remember how she smelled, that fragrance that was hers all alone.

In the rear view mirror I saw a bright flash as a gas main must have been hit with those flames, the night suddenly illuminated with the explosion as I rounded the corner and headed for the freeway, and once there I could see the main building of the General Hospital.

Like an old friend it seemed to always be there and was waiting for me now to come inside and heal.

Yeah, some healing of course, time and medicine will cure most any ailment I guess, but I would never be healed, I would never be that happy, and I would never be that whole again either.






First of, any quotations or poems not written by myself are noted as such, and taken off the internet, the others are from my own twisted mind.

They include and most likely in this order are:

Edgar Allen Poe-”Eleonora”

Brett Butler-”Knee Deep in Paradise”

Douglas Adams

William Dement

Tommy Cooper


John F. Kennedy-(1917-1963)

Rita Rudner

Horace-(65BC-8BC) “Odes”

Johnny Carson-”The Tonight Show”

Matt Frewer-”Doctor, Doctor” the television show

Samuel Goldwin-(1882-1974)

Wilson Mizler-(1876-1933)

Woody Allen

Victor Hugo-(1802-1885) “Les Miserables” 1862

Ali ibn-Abi-Talib-(602AD-661AD) “A Thousand Sayings”

Baltasar Gracian

Eddie Cantor-(1892-1964)

Eric Hoffer-(1902-1983)

Stephen King-”The Dark Tower”

Joseph Heller-(1923-) “Catch 22”

Napoleon Bonaparte-(1769-1821)

Thomas Jones-(1862-1969)


Woodrow Wilson-(1856-1924)


With special thanks to The Doors for writing “Not to Touch the Earth” as well as “Back Door Man” (0ne of my favorites) and the Ventures for “Peter Gunn” and of course the great Duane Eddy, as well as to Alice Cooper for “Desperado,” to the Flintstones and their creators for such a great cartoon series which was made for adults. For Ian Fleming who created James Bond and wrote Goldfinger, and the world has never been the same since.

For Rodger Daltry and The Who for “I Can See For Miles”

For the great Kasey Kasem and I sure hope I spelled that right. His golden voice kept us listening when he was with KRLA, a local radio station my brother listened to every day.

For Diana Ross, who made my brother very happy with her music.

The great team of Abbott and Costello, Bela Lagosi, Boris Karloff, and Peter Lorre who made great movies with limited resources available in those times.

Jeepers Creeper for making old movies fun and last of all, a magazine that I read when I was a kid, called “Famous Monsters of Film land” which was a classic, I read every article of that magazine every chance I got, and maybe without them I wouldn’t be here.



Thanks to my wife and kids, the rest of my family for being here for me, even though you didn’t always understand you never tried to stop me and I always felt you loved me, no matter what.

Also special thanks to my best friend Barb, because if not for her belief in me I never would have tried this, she urged me on when I got disappointed and never let me quit and helped me in every way she could, going far beyond what even best friends do for each other.

For writer’s such as Stephen King, who shared my nightmares with me as a child, or does it just seem that way?

For Edgar Allen Poe, for being such an inspiration all of my life.

And to you, Dear Reader, because if you are reading this far you are either bored or you really liked my work, I hope it is the latter and if so I hope for the same when you read “Revenge” which is coming next.

As you might have noticed, my writing slants towards my favorite University, THE University of Southern California. When I was young I actually did watch those games with my brother and my Dad, and since they are both in Heaven now, they get to know the score before I do and tease me about it, but I have carried out that tradition and have grand children now too, and they have seen the football team and seem ready to carry on their part.

Also, Dan Marino, the Miami Dolphin quarterback that deserved a ring, The Pittsburgh Steelers, The Raiders, no matter what town they call home, and the St. Louis Rams.

The legends, Rocky Blier, Lynn Swann, Mean Joe Green, Marcus Allen, and the KC Chiefs, who take great pleasure in beating the Raiders every chance they get.

Henry Winkler for his portrayal of “The Fonz” on the television show, “Happy Days” which will follow him forever, lastly to “American Graffiti,” that seemed to take every week of the summer in our lives and condense it into that movie, with great acting and directing, it’s one of the classics I love to watch.

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Graphic Novels
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Rating: 10.0/10

OK, this is where it ends, and if it makes you sad that it did, then your as bad and as sad as me. I always feel like they could use more of this or that or the other thing, and if I read this again I am sure I would (wanna bet?) catch ALL of the typos on my own and then added about a hundred pages, just cause it moved me again. I like that she did the right thing in the end, that after all, she gave her all for love, but if I say any more you won't have to read this part.
A Word from the Writer
I sincerely thank you so much for your interest in my book, I have not heard from my publsiher yet, but I recently submitted my second book, called "Revenge" for consideration, so keep me in your thoughts and or prayers (please), this book has a lot more scary things than "Windows" did, because I was thinking of Edgar Allen Poe when I started, and I wish I could write as he did. sigh.
Published Date
11/1/2007 12:00:00 AM
Published In
Publish America