We Will Have Our Time: Horror Flash Fiction

 

He had not been expecting a letter. He had written so many to her, and maybe in the beginning he had hoped for a response, even a form letter, but there was nothing. Well, she was busy; already 15 films and countless television appearances on her resume, and she had made it to the highest pinnacle of the A-list. She must have millions of fans, all writing to tell her how beautiful she was, how talented, how entrancing.

And yet, even though his letters had so much competition, he knew they would stand out to her; they had an undeniable connection, the two of them. He could feel it the very first time he saw her, in a scene from her first big movie. It was like she was looking right at him, speaking only to him, not to the so-called leading man who would only abandon her, both in the movie and later, in real life. She had looked so gorgeous and innocent, standing on a hilltop overlooking the ocean, her pale skin luminescent and her cascade of strawberry-blonde curls limned in the golden light of the setting sun. It was the perfect movie setting, but he knew they would one day be back at that very same place in the real world, together. We will have our time, he knew, and he signed all of his letters to her with this assurance.

It must bring her comfort to know that, he thought, because she had been having some trying times, lately: the breakup of her marriage to that Hollywood “golden boy”, the loss of the baby, the press hounding her for all of the intimate details of her life. He ached to provide a safe harbor for her, and he knew as soon as he received the long-awaited sign from her, he would be ready to take her to that hilltop overlooking the sea, where the sun was golden at sunset and the breeze blew gently. He would take her in his embrace and they would fall together, dropping through the welcoming water into the next world, where they would be together forever in love and happiness. He had related this wonderful scene to her in detail in the last several letters.

He looked around his dingy apartment, which was already beginning to fade from view, to be replaced with the lovely green grass, the gentle, salt-scented wind, her shining hair and sparkling eyes, the feel of her slender, warm arms encircling his waist as they stepped into eternity together…the sign from her had come; he was holding it in his hands even now. He fancied he smelled a faint scent of her perfume on the paper. Because of all the unwanted attention, she had chosen to disguise the letter as being from a law firm, but her name leaped from the page to his eyes immediately. The words “cease and desist” and “stalking” tumbled before his sight; they were meaningless jargon to cover her true message from the prying eyes that were everywhere. This was the sign!

He ran excitedly to gather his things for the trip: The street address of her home, complete with directions and satellite and street images, all provided by the trusty internet. He had also obtained her itinerary and was able to work out her schedule, as well as the information he needed about her security detail. He didn’t want their first meeting to be disturbed. He imagined how she would look, stunned at first, perhaps, that her message had brought him so far so quickly, then relief and delight would wash across her lovely face as she realized that she was finally safe and complete, with him.

We will have our time, he thought, finally!

image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/black-and-gray-rocks-and-body-of-water-3084567/