The psycho ward worked took me out and brought me to the facility.  They assigned me to a room, similar to a cheap accommodation at a motel except the walls were soft.  They would let me out to the entertainment room and there I would try and chat with surrounding people.  They were definitely crazy.  Some talked gibberish and some just stared.  I gave up ever socializing with loonies.  Occasionally, Jake would visit and we would have a casual chat.  He would inform me about the weather, the gossips, and things like that.  During times when I’m alone in the white room, I would start writing this story, the story of our demise.  One that would immortalize us.  Perhaps it’ll turn out to be an urban legend in the future.  I probably won’t be around long enough to find out.  For several months, I’ve written and written, being meticulous about the details.  The story that spanned only over a little over a week and a half.  When I finished the story, I handed the notebook to Jake.  Told him to read and spread the story in my place.  He agreed.  Months went by.  Soon, Jake quit his police job.  He was considered one of the best around.  It was a great loss.  He turned his head into writing and became a hot shot novelist.  His name is known practically everywhere.  One of his bestsellers included the story of him meeting the crew.  I enjoyed it.  I wrote my last words on paper and left it on my bed and went out for break time.  I went to the fenced in roof accompanied by the nurse.  I enjoyed basking in the bright, warm sunshine admiring the clouds.  The warm breeze brushed against my face. 

            “Can you please get my some water?” I asked the nurse.

            “Sure! I’ll be right back.” she replied and left.

            I walked over to the fence and stared down.

            “I’ve said all I’ve said on paper.  This is the end.” I said to myself as I climbed the fence and jumped.

           

Da Azn Crew

Written by Jake

 

The Ending

            It was all over the news about Vanessa’s ending.  The psycho ward, better known as the rehabilitation center, didn’t take any responsibility for it.  The fence was impossible to get over, they claimed.  The courts favored them.  Her story, I got it published and was under the category Horror/Comedy.  A parody of horror.  Of course, it was considered fiction.  Who would believe it?  In the notebook she handed to me, I’ve read it.  The book wasn’t entirely filled so I stopped after blank pages appeared.  However, I should’ve kept going before it was too late.  She left her last words written.  A list of things she wanted done. After I read it, I can’t help but cry a little.  Her discs and videos, she wanted them destroyed if no more of these strange cell phone deaths occurred, which didn’t.  One particularly odd one was about a kitty bag finding a good home. Well, I left it at my house.  It’s probably good enough for it.  Oh, and one more thing. A piece of paper was found on her bed in the rehabilitation room.  It read:

           

Destiny is unstoppable.  I’ve tried laughter, I’ve tried tears; But it always overpowers me.  It doesn’t care a thing about my fears.  Dreams are not for understanding… They exist to encourage expanding your life.  The road to our dreams exposes… treachery.

 

No one will ever know what she really meant.