Buried Truths and Cursed Vows

“For once, I felt like I was right. I had lived, died and lived again…oh how foolish was I to believe that the life I left behind wouldn’t come back to haunt me.”

~

Mark and Lana Thompson were nothing but echoes in an otherwise empty home. In fact, he wondered if they ever really were anything more that the world they had created, made up, and then systematically destroyed. A life built entirely on the bedrock of shifting sands and sinking lies.

“You thought I left because I was afraid,” Mark whispered. His cold eyes focused intently on his wife Lana. His voice flat, emotionless and devoid of love.

“The police have been searching for you,” Lana whispered, unsure of what else to say.

“Marjorie took care of that,” Diane Heffernan stood in the doorway of the Thompson home. Her bright eyes, tanned skin and perfectly coiffed hair stood in stark contrast to that of someone who should have been long dead. She was very much alive and looked better than she had in high-school— “it was an unintended but happy accident that Marge also has a need for the police to not dig around. Wow…such lives we lead…didn’t you wonder why they never came back, never called you with any leads or questions… Looks like you aren’t the only friend to be betrayed.”

“Leaving Maple Ridge Preparatory seems to have done you well,” Lana cooed, tightening her jaw as she ignored the familiar, lingering look her husband and former friend shared.

Mark took a few steps towards his wife, her condition less-than ideal— “Seems like you took a nasty fall the other night my dear. I’m sure even if you were able to call the police they might not believe you and besides, you thought you were the only one looking for answers? Did you not think I would find out what really happened?”

Lana seethed, a deep, silent rage brewing and it didn’t help that her ankle still throbbed under the compression sleeve, or that her head was still numb from the stitching that held her split mind together. She was a mess. Blood caked her silken blonde strands, now crimson straw in appearance as she blinked her eyes repeatedly into the abyss.

“Honey, you can blink all you want, this isn’t going away. You created this mess, now you need to clean it up.” Diane cooed, indifferent.

“Every secret you buried was far worse than any of mine.” the words seeped out of Mark with blatant vitriol. “You ruined countless lives to build this one. Diane, her family, your family, anyone that knew, and for what…you couldn’t even spare me the truth.”

“All she had to do was go home, I didn’t force her to hunt me down,” Lana whispered, tears dotting her cheeks.

“She didn’t have to do much. I found out every one of your little secrets,” Mark continued. “You never even checked to see if she was dead. You didn’t even do that right…and to be honest, I’m surprised your friend Marge didn’t tell you Diane was alive…but alas, she didn’t seem to tell you much of what is really going on in her world, not that you ever asked.”

Lana shook her head, a small smirk forming at the corners of her otherwise stoic face. She knew even amongst close friends secrets still muddled the air, and Marjorie was no different.

“But I found it,” Mark whispered again, “your other secret…an obituary for your first husband, Diane’s boyfriend, Tristan Jones. You killed him…you killed him…”

“I put the pieces together, every single one…and I waited. It was easy, Diane actually was the one who found me, she wrote the letter, she helped me buy this house. Hell, she even stayed in the locked attic a few times here and there when I was out of town. It was her mom’s childhood home…sort of ironic now, looking back. This was never supposed to be a home for us, it was supposed to be a place for you…a cage, a prison, a tomb…but you see how that worked out. Buried secrets always come up for the light they deserve, and trust me, you deserve every bit of this.”

“What about the missing money,” Lana hissed, her eyes squarely on Mark. “Or your failing practice, the lawsuits, the dead girl…”

“I paid my debt. I started over, hit the reset button just like when I found you. It isn’t my first time doing this. For all anyone knows, the old me is dead, long gone and no body will ever be found.”

Mark Thompson pulled out a new wallet, flashing an ID with another boring name next to his smiling face. “I guess it’s time for me to leave…Diane’s house after-all, don’t want to wear my welcome out, but I have to go, my new wife is waiting for me.”

Lana stumbled, stunned— “so, you are going to leave, just like that?”

“Yes, yes I am. It’s what we did…remember sweetheart? You should know how this works by now. People won’t be checking in on you, especially not Marge…or should I say Jamie,” he smiled, pulling out a second ID and passport as he grabbed a set of large suitcases and headed towards the garage.

“I really hope you two can work this out, it would be such a shame to let this go on another twenty years.”

The door to the garage slammed shut as Lana turned to face Diane—“hope you aren’t hungry,” Diane whispered, “we need to get you up to your room, I have a feeling it’s going to be a long, long night for you my dear…but don’t worry, you won’t die just yet. We have a lot to catch up on.”