happiness is a warm gun, james

[Maria Ackerman]

Maria didn’t remember the town of Silent Hill as being so ugly. When she was a child living in the quaint resort town, it had always been pretty and green with perfect weather. A lot had changed in the four years that she had been away at college. She didn’t even know why she chose to come back to the town in the first place; her parents suggested it, afterall. They thought it would be the answer to her questions, but all Maria could see was fog and crumbling buildings.

There were no answers in sight, at least not as far as Maria could tell. Having spent the better part of two days wandering aimlessly around dead end streets, she was certain that there was no one but her even in the town- she hadn’t seen anyone since then, but she often heard strange scrapping noises coming from darkened alleys. Maria shook her head as the thought of the nightmares that had plagued her for a year and repeating to herself that there was no such thing as ghosts or monsters.

Getting fed up with only finding dead ends and blocked off corners, she sat in the drivers’ seat of her rusty jeep with her forehead pressed against the steering wheel. What had her father meant when he told her to come here? He probably did it as some kind of practical joke. Cursing under her breath, she took the map of Silent Hill out of her glove compartment and opened it in front of her. It was scribbled over in highlighter ink and red x’s- she had been marking off all the places that she had searched already.

When her dark green eyes fell on the bare green square that was Rosewater Park, she vaguely remembered something from a dream she had about going to Rosewater Park. Maria folded the map and returned it to its holding spot, and in the process she withdrew the 9mm from the glove box. She never went anywhere without having it somewhere on her; she wasn’t about to go wandering off into the fog without having something to protect herself. Stepping out of the drivers’ side door, she tucked the 9mm into the back of her jeans and locked the car behind her.

The park wasn’t far from where she was, and she could see a sign for it less than a block ahead of her. When she got there, she was greeted by eerie markers and monuments that looked like people standing in the fog. As far as she could tell, there was no living human there. She gave a short sigh and walked around the monuments, looking uninterestedly down at the inscriptions on them. She could remember being told about most of the people when she was a kid since most of them were local heroes or things of that nature. Maria sighed impatiently and slid down the side of one of the monuments, sitting down on the leave covered ground. There was nothing to be found here, just like the rest of Silent Hill.

[James Sunderland]

Silent Hill seemed to mimic an endless maze of turns and corners – why couldn’t life be easier? James felt so close to finally seeing Mary, yet in reality his goal was far more complex and out of reach. If only he could just remember, remember their special spot. Walking through the heavy fog that clouded his surroundings, James cautiously advanced through the small, hellish town. Time seemed irrelevant in Silent Hill; James couldn’t tell you if it’d been hours or possibly days since his last human encounter. Not that he cared really.

Once a social creature, James had turned severely introverted since Mary’s illness began, only getting worse when his beloved passed on. So having a lack of companionship, even in this place, didn’t bother the blond male. If anything James thought it best – imagine, having someone to tag along would only serve to slow him down. No, being alone was best.

Continuing on his search James figured from Mary’s letter that perhaps his and Mary’s special spot could be Rosewater Park? Sure they’d had loads of wonderful memories at the park, so why wouldn’t the place qualify? After God knows how long, James finally began recognizing his foggy surroundings as the entrance to the park. For the first time in a while James began to smile, enthused at the possibility of a reunion with his wife. ”Mary! Are you here?!” James began to shout, picking up pace as walked around the park eagerly looking for Mary.

Not having to look for long, James spotted a silhouette not to far from where he stood. It was nuzzled near a monument, yet it was unmistakable, it was a human figure – or so he hoped. ”Mary?” James asked in a curious, questioning tone as he neared the figure. The closer he walked, the more detail came to light. The figure was female…with blond hair…and very, um, revealing clothing……”Mary?”

Finally getting a full view, James was shocked into standing still. He couldn’t believe his eyes, it was….it was Mary! He’d found her! Finally! ”Mary I knew I could find you!” James shouted as he ran the rest of the way towards her, a beaming smile protruding in his face. It’d been such a long time since James had felt such joy, such vigor that he was unsure what he’d do when he finally got his hands on her.

Dropping in front of her in seconds, James took the liberty of making the first move as he tightly embraced her in an amorous hug. ”Mary, you have no idea how much I’ve suffered without you. I love you so much, I never want to lose you again.” James spoke out, his speech slightly muffled from burrowing his face into her shoulder. As he sat there with her, there was something slightly off about Mary.

Taking in a whiff of her perfume, James quickly let go of her. In the years that they had known each other, Mary had once and only once changed her perfume selection – this was not Mary. Scooting away he took a better look at Mary. I mean, she looked like Mary…..”Um, hello. Mary, is that you?” James finally asked after a couple seconds of awkward silence.

[Maria Ackerman]

Maria leaned her head against the monument behind her, green eyes peering up at the cloudy sky. None of it made sense to her. She was supposed to be in New York, with her college friends, and teaching preschoolers. She wasn't meant to be here in Silent Hill, wasting her days while looking for answers that weren't meant to be found. The dreams had to mean something, but Maria wasn't sure that that was even important anymore. Letting her eyes close, she tried to remember the slightest details about what her unconscious mind had been showing her for a year. There was always the same man in them - he was tall, with handsome features and dirty blonde hair. He kept calling her Mary. She had been mistakenly called Mary before, but the man was so certain that she was, in fact, Mary. Who the hell was Mary?

As if on cue, she heard the name echo off the monuments around her. Had she somehow voiced what she was thinking? She didn't remember saying anything, and the timber of the voice told her it was a man. Maria straightened and looked around the fog; someone was coming towards her through the fog. She tensed up and moved her fingers to the 9mm tucked in the back of her jeans, uncertain as to whether she should trust whoever it was in the fog. He emerged and stood in front of her - a tall man with handsome features and dirty blonde hair.

The man that she had been dreaming about was standing in front of her, staring at her as if she was some kind of angel that had manifested from the mist. She opened her mouth to speak but the words caught in her dry throat and she sat there, gaping at him like a fish out of water. She gave a little squeak of shock when he dropped down in front of her and enveloped her in his arms. Maria sat there with her arms dangling limply at her side, unable to respond to the stranger who was acting like he knew her. It was as if he knew what she had been dreaming about for a year, and it was as if he had known her for years. Her green eyes grew wide and she finally managed to speak, "What the fuck are you doing?" she voiced angrily, struggling against his embrace.

Even though her answer had found her, she wasn't going to respond kindly to a stranger practically assaulting her in the middle of a park. He pulled away and Maria looked at him, eyebrows knitted in a frown in the center of her forehead, her mouth drawn in a tight line. "Close, but try again." she answered him when he asked if she was Mary. She had been called Mary before, but he was convinced. "I'm Maria." she told him, shaking her head and wiping the angry look off of her face.

[James Sunderland]

"Maria?" James thought to himself, a million convulsive thought's shooting through the inner working's of his brain. But how? She looked like Mary, it was plain as paper - anyone who knew Mary would agree. She even sounded like her for God's sake! So how on Earth could this women, a perfect resemblance of his wife, not be Mary?

James could feel himself quickly loosing a grip on himself, the confusion and frustration of the situation boiling up inside him. God. It'd finally happened James feared. He'd finally snapped. Yes, that must be it, the only logical explanation it seemed. His intense desire to find Mary had finally gotten the best of him he supposed. ”I must be hallucinating. Yes, that's it.” James mumbled softly to himself as he starred past Maria, no longer acknowledging her as he attempted to rationalize the situation.

”I'm tired, clearly that and hunger are making me imagine things. Yes, of course, that's it.” James finally concluded, oh but what a beautiful thing to hallucinate though. Focusing back on the Mary doppelganger, James comfortably fell back into his previous mania and decided to indulge in the fantasy of it. Hallucination or not, this had been one of the happiest moments he'd had in such a long time. Like the saying went, you truly don't know what you have until it's gone.

Sitting up straighter, James expression softened up, eye's tensely studying over Maria's figure. ”I know I haven't been the perfect husband in the past,” James began, a slight chocking feeling emerging in the back of his throat as he paused. ”But I plan on making it up to you. I promise I'll love you more, love you as you deserved. Be there, sick or not. I'm going to be one hundred perfect committed this time Mary. I promise.” The sincerity of James' words could easily be felt, his level of genuineness uncompromised. Hallucination or not, what James said was real and heartfelt - unable to help himself, James extended his right hand out, stroking away at Maria's cheek.

[Maria Ackerman]

To say that Maria was freaked out was an understatement. Not only was the man she had been dreaming about for months standing in front of her, he apparently knew her somehow and chose to greet her as such. Having lived in New York City, Maria wasn't a stranger to the odd sort of people that one often finds lurking in the fog, but this guy was taking it up a notch. What on Earth was he babbling about, loving her more than he had, and why did he keep calling her Mary? She had been called Mary on numerous occasions and usually when she corrected them, saying that it was Maria, they stopped referring to her as Mary. This man, James, seemed to be convinced no matter how much anger and confusion there was in her voice. She sat there, staring at him in silence, her ocean blue eyes wide with questions and confusion.

The sincerity of her words was almost heartbreaking enough to make her play along with being whoever Mary was. "As sweet as that is, I'm really not Mary." she pointed out again, her words soft, hoping that she wouldn't send him into some sort of rage by breaking his fantastical illusion. "I told you, I'm Maria." she continued, her manicured eyebrows knitting into a frown in the center of her forehead. Eyes searched over his face - a face that she had been looking for - but she couldn't form a single audible question. She felt that if she opened her mouth to ask something, all that would come out would be mindless mumbling which would only many the already mind boggling situation worse. Maria sighed and straightened her shoulder, taking a hold her her confusion so she could make sense of the situation.

"Do I look like someone named Mary?" she asked him slowly and deliberately, her voice dancing on the edge of a knife, all the while afraid that the man was some sort of lunatic. "Your girlfriend, maybe?" she continued, folding her hands delicately across her jean clad thighs. In all the dreams that she had had of James, she had never seen him with someone named Mary; she had seen him with her, appearing happy, and acting like he had known her for years, but he had never used the name Mary before.