Continuation of City of Souls I. The rules still apply.
Under the Weather
"...and it's going to be a doozy today! The low today will be somewhere in the mid-teens, and the high is in the upper twenties. I recommend that everyone stay inside and off the road, because there's gonna be about eight or nine inches of snow accumulating between today and tommorow.
Back to you John and Mary."
(cameras switch to John and Mary)
"Thank you, Don. In later news, today marks the 6 month anniversary of the death of Anna Marie Holly, who was killed in a hit and run accident. Police are still hoping to find the perp..."
Don Larsen was the best weatherman in town. Everybody knew it. The only problem was -so did he.
Everyone in the studio looked at Don as he stepped onto the studio floor. His face was wrought with anger. He was always angry.
"Dorothy! My coffee tastes like donkey puke! What did you do to it!" Don spat out through his pearly white teeth, "I said, half and half with THREE teaspoons of sugar! THREE! Not TWO, THREE! Are you so incompetent, you can't even make a lousy cup of coffee?"
"Sorry, sir. I will get you some more." Dorothy meekly replied.
"Don't bother. I bet a retarded baboon could make better coffee then you. I'm going to my office."
Don slammed the door behind him as he marched into his office. He sat down in his big, comfy office chair. He took a deep breathe and started looking up weather stats on his computer.
He knew it was there though. It was always there. In the corner of his room she sat, playing with her doll. Her black frilled dress covering her legs as she sat indian style on the floor. She looked up at him with her cold dark circled eyes. Fear struck over him. His body went numb and his mouth dry.
"You're not real! Get out! Leave me alone!" Don cried.
The little girl just smiled under black, stringy strands of hair.
"Why don't you just go away and let me live my life? Huh!?"
She disappeared. The office door opened. Dorothy looked in, "Mike needs you in the board room in five minutes."
"Tell Mike, I'll be there in six." Don said with confidence trying to keep his composure.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine! NOW GO!"
"Ok, ok!"
Don stumbled out of his chair. She was gone, but his face was still as white as a sheet. He found his footing and headed out the door.
As he entered the board room, he saw the faces of his colleagues; Gerald the fat cameraman, Mary the beautiful, chainsmoking lead newsanchor, producer Mike and many others who hated him for his egotistical tyranny. All staring at him. Staring at the yellow in his eyes and his sweaty hands.
Don swatted the air, "What do you want?! I'm tired and pissed off!"
"What the hell is wrong with you Don?" Mike exclaimed, "You're acting like a schizo! Dorothy told me you were screaming at something before she entered your office a while ago!"
"LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I don't need you! I don't need any of you! I'm the.....I'm the-"
Then she appeared again. In the corner of the room. Her eyes looked straight at him in fury and distain. She then smiled at him, showing all her black and yellow teeth.
"No, NO!!! Go away!! It was an accident!! I was drunk!" Don then ran to the corner of the room and started kicking the air. His co-workers stared in awe and the pure insanity of their lead meteorologist.
"Don!! Snap out of it!" Mike screamed, "You need help. We can help you!"
Don look at Mike in agony, "No one can help me. She will never leave me alone." Don then opened a window and hurled himself out. His body hit a taxi ten stories below.
The police came in for questioning. Detective Lutz asked Mike how it happened. Mike told him. "I just don't understand why. He kept screaming at something invisible saying, 'Go away! Go away! I was drunk' and 'It was an accident' and then he jumped out the window.
Another officer came up to Lutz , "Sir we just found this in Mr. Larsen's car sir." It was red gift box. The detective opened it up. Inside was a tattered rag doll.
"Oh my God!" Lutz exclaimed, "It can't be!"
Lutz checked the back of the doll to be sure. "It is."
"What is it?" Mike said.
Lutz sighed. "About six months ago a five year old girl was killed in a hit and run accident. Their were no witnesses and the perpatrator was never caught. All we knew was that this...rag doll, was taken from the scene. Now we know...now we know."
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