I’m Not My Father’s Son (Fan Fiction Inspired By John Carpenter's Starman)
by, Melissa R. MendelsonChapter 13:
A purplish-pink glow stretched across the sky. Shadows fell against the parking lot. Tires crunched against dirt, and headlights flashed into darkness. A ghost of a woman jogged by, taking a moment to check her pulse, but she was very much alive. And the world slowly stirred, disheveled and confused, unaware of what was coming, and all he could do was stand beside the window and watch another day begin. Today, he was going to die.
The motel room was dark. Orange light invaded from the parking lot. The sun had not reached them yet. Shadows nestled down next to Tina’s body, and she was out cold. She had insisted on sharing the bed, so he slept under the covers. And she slept on top, and they both remained in their clothes except for the shoes, which had disappeared into the darkness. And as more light crept into the room, he was now captivated by the slow rise and fall of her chest, her black locks sprawled out across the bed, and dawn’s gentle glow upon her brown skin. She was beautiful. She was his hero, but Tina could not save him. No one could, and if he had the strength, he would kiss her good-bye and and leave her behind at the motel.
He had a normal life once. At least, he thought it was normal until the night before he turned eighteen. He was just messing around with his friends, and they were teasing him about never being drunk or stoned. He was stupid and listened to them, and his three best friends wound up in a coma because he got so high that night that he lost control. And he zapped them in their heads like with what happened to him back at the Crimson Dove, and as he remembered that, the gray orb zapping him in the forehead, he fell to his knees, bombarded once again by all those images. A giant sphere with a circular ring. Winslow, Arizona. A face that might belong to his father, colored by white and blue light. Bang, and the bullet hits home.
“Scott,” Tina said as she watched him struggle to his feet. “Maybe, you should take the shot now.” She sat up in bed and watched him shake his head. “You need it, Scott.”
“I know, but we have to get closer first.” As Scott said this, he felt uneasy about moving closer to Tina. He never really had a girlfriend. He never got the chance to go to college and pursue his teaching degree. He had to run. He had to hide. He had to not trust anybody, and it was hard for a long time. Then, his mother died, and things became even harder. Now, he was here with Tina, a young woman that he allowed himself to watch and wonder, never thinking that there would be a chance for them because he would have to run at some point. He just didn’t think that she would come with him, and suddenly, she was standing right beside him, taking his hand into hers and leading him back to the bed. “I can’t,” Scott said, and he tried to pull his hand away from her. But she tightened her grip, locking her body next to his. “Tina…”
“Don’t say it, Scott,” and she ran a finger across his lips. “Okay. Just don’t say it,” and she brushed her lips against his.
After that night with what he did to his friends, Scott vowed to never lose control, and he didn’t. He held it together right up to that moment, where he took his mother’s hand and realized that she was gone, and all that fear, all that hurt was like a sonic boom, knocking the power out in not only the surrounding area but several miles away. And again, after he pulled himself back together, which took a long time, he vowed to never lose control, and he succeeded until that night at the Crimson Dove. And now Tina was pushing her body into his. Her lips brushed against his lips. Her hands moved down his chest and toward his waist, and he grabbed her up into his arms. He swore silently that he would not hurt her, but instead, he surrendered, falling onto the bed and yielding to the woman that now lied on top of him, kissing him deeply. If this were how he was going to die, he would meet death with open arms.