Bill © by Hope1998
All Rights Reserved
Webpage by Jilli / Fate
BILL
By: Hope
Vanessa Bowman opened her eyes to the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. There was something special about today. If she could only remember what it was.
Oh yes! Today was her twenty-fifth birthday. There would be no party or guests to celebrate it with her but she didn't care. She'd party the rest of her life away, just as soon as she picked up the long-awaited cheque at the lawyer's office.
Eight years. That was how long she'd had to wait for the money her grandfather had left to her. A million dollars worth of insurance was worth the wait. Who would have thought the old geezer had that much insurance?
She stretched and got out of bed, pausing in front of the mirror.
"Good morning, Gorgeous. In about an hour, you'll be wealthy enough to kiss this God forsaken place goodbye." She pulled her shoulder length blond hair into a ponytail and smiled at the image there. Green eyes looked back at her, taking in the ivory s kin of her face and the lean body clad in a frothy pink teddy. On the way to the bathroom, she hummed, 'Like An Angel'.
Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed, Vanessa opened the front door to the tiny run down house her mother had left her.
"Damn him anyway!" She muttered under her breath, picking up the bouquet of wildflowers on the front step. He'd tied a pink ribbon clumsily around the stems. She ripped at the ribbon and tossed the flowers on the grass.
She wasn't about to allow that simpleton to ruin her special day. Smoothing her hair and brushing greenery off the suit that had taken the last of her savings, she got into her car in the driveway.
"Come on, you piece of junk." The engine finally sputtered to life. "You'll be history soon too, you stinking bucket of bolts."
At precisely one o'clock, she entered the offices of Jones & Jones Law Firm. At one forty-five, she left, carrying a receipt stating that the money had been deposited into her bank account.
The car door squealed angrily as it opened. Vanessa tossed her purse on the seat and got in, eyes widening at the hundreds of flowers carefully laid out on the passanger seat.
There was no doubt in her mind that this was his doing. He'd been 'courting' her since they were children; leaving flowers during the summer months.
As if she didn't have enough to contend with, living in a small town where everyone knew everyone else's business. Growing up the bastard daughter of the woman who made her living serving drinks at the local tavern. Finding out at twelve, where the extra money came from.
The girls at school had always been jealous of Vanessa, in part because she was prettier and her clothes were nicer than theirs. What she didn't know until that fateful day, was that her mother was the town prostitute.
Of course, Delores had tried to justify herself to Vanessa by saying she'd done it all for her. Vanessa changed that day; despising her mother until the day she died some six years ago.
The car smelled like a damn funeral parlor. She slammed it into gear and drove home, leaving the flowers on the seat. Forget the idiot. She'd never need the car again anyway. Her mind playing over the exciting plans for the future, she nearly tripped going up the front steps.
Where was he getting so many flowers? She had to kick them away, just to get the door open. Good riddance to that raving lunatic. As if she'd ever give him the time of day. Someone like her...with someone like him? It was laughable.
Tomorrow she'd leave this wretched town. Pack a few necessities and leave the rest to the vultures. Let them pick through the garbage she'd left behind. They'd picked on her most of her life.
Dinner finished, Vanessa left the mess as it was. Not for one more day would she pick up a dish or sweep a floor.
Was that a knock at the back door? It couldn't be. Her house was the only one on this laneway, other than Bill's. He'd never knocked on the door, seldom even talked to her. He just left the flowers. No, it couldn't be him; he wouldn't dare. Who could it be? She had no friends.
Vanessa groaned, rolling her eyes. She could see him now, standing on the back steps. He was grinning at her stupidly, his nose pressed flat against the glass. Something inside her snapped. What did it take to get rid of him? She pulled open the door and demanded, "What do you want?"
Bill smiled shyly, his eyes sparkling in the pasty whiteness of his moon face. He held his hand behind his back. "Hi, Vanessa. Did you see all the flowers I left you?"
"Bill, did you see that I kicked them? Did you see that I stepped on them?" She answered cruelly.
"Why did you do that? I was very, very busy gettin' those for you. I got up before it was light and went to the field to pick em special for you."
"You stupid slug. How many times do I have to tell you? I hate your guts!"
Bill's eyes filled with tears. "Why do you hate me, Vanessa? I just think you're very, very pretty. I only wanted to be your friend." He wiped a shirt sleeve across his face, still hiding one hand behind his back. "You never had no friends neither.. .I just wanted to be your friend."
"Get this straight, Bill. I'm leaving here tomorrow and I'll never have to see your stupid face again. You'll have to find someone else to give your stupid flowers to." Vanessa laughed at his crestfallen expression.
"Why are you so mean to me?" Bill's bottom lip quivered and he cast his eyes away from the hate in hers.
"Why? Look at yourself! You have the mentality of a tree stump. Whatever made you think I'd ever be friends with you?"
"You never liked my flowers? They're pretty. Like you."
"They're ugly. Ugly like you, Bill"
Bill was sobbing now. "I worked hard and got some money. Mr. Thomas said he was proud of me. Worked very, very hard to cut the grass for him a whole bunch of times. I wanted to buy candy but I didn't...I bought these." He presented the surprise he'd been hiding behind his back. "Will you please be my friend now?" He begged.
Vanessa hit the red roses out of his outstretched hand and glared icily at him. "Get lost, you Retard!"
"You're mean, Vanessa. And bad. Only bad people use the 'R' word. I don't think you're pretty anymore. I don't wanna be friends neither. You shouldn't call people names, it can hurt their feelings. I can't help it if I'm slow."
"Go home, Bill. Go home and cry to Mommy. I have packing to do." She slammed the door in his face.
Bill stared mutely at the door, then walked home, his heart broken.
Vanessa forgot Bill as soon as she turned away from the door. She packed a few items in a bag and went to bed earlier than usual.
She woke up coughing in the middle of the night. She was having trouble breathing. Smoke. The room was filled with smoke. Her mother had been saving to have the wiring re-done when she died. Vanessa had spent the savings on herself, never having it replaced.
She sat up in bed, her eyes widening in horror. Flames lit the hallway with an orange glow.
There was no way out. The bedroom didn't have a window and the fire was blocking the doorway. There was no escape, other than to walk through the wall of fire. Her skin and hair would burn off.
Half insane with terror, Vanessa screamed, knowing no one would hear. Her only hope was that Bill or his mother saw the smoke and called the Fire Department.
A figure emerged from the flames. His clothes were on fire but he didn't seem to notice.
"Bill. Oh, Bill, you came to save me."
No response.
"Bill, get towels from the bathroom. Run water on them and bring them to me. Hurry." She begged. It would mean he'd have to walk through the fire again but she knew he'd do anything for her. "Go on, Bill. Hurry!"
"I'll be back. You wait here, okay?"
Vanessa bit back the nasty reply that rose to her lips and smiled sweetly instead. "I'll wait, Bill. Please, get the towels. The fire is getting closer."
Minutes passed, each second bringing the flames closer. She cowered in a corner now, certain that he wasn't coming back for her. The smoke ate at her eyes, making them tear.
She was going to die. Her dream to begin a new life would never be realized. They'd find her charred corpse and give her money to some worthless charity.
"Here I am! Here I am!" A figure, separated itself from the fire that was fast overtaking the room. His hair was completely gone and his clothes were burning in earnest now.
"Did you get the towels? The towels! Did you get them?" She screamed. In the far recesses of her mind, she wondered why he'd come back.
Bill smiled sweetly, ignoring the fire. "I went outside and got these instead." He held out a smoke-streaked hand.
Red roses. Half dead and broken, where she'd hit them out of his hand.
Vanessa stared mutely at the flowers, finally finding her voice. "You have to save me, Bill. Please, get me out of here." Then, in desparation, "We can be friends if you'll just get me out. Okay, Bill?" It was too late to make a run through the fire now. She'd waited too long. She needed wet towels or she'd never make it alive.
"You won't ever be my friend neither, Vanessa. I'll just stay here with you. I'll be your friend, even if you won't be mine."
"We can't stay here, Bill. We'll die! You came here to save me...you can't just let me die."
"I didn't come here to save you, Vanessa." Bill answered with a puzzled frown. "I'm not supposed to play with matches. Mom will be mad that I did. I had to use them to light the fire. Can't start a fire without matches ...