The stories that killed their writer

Chapter 3: What's the point?

Lana's POV

With trembling feet, I entered my house. I put my car keys on the table by the door and got out of my jacket.

I then stopped and looked around. Nothing. No one was here. Good!

I walked to the tv and sat down on the couch. I turned it on and sighed relieved until my head shot to the right. I then let out a relieved sigh. "It's just you two."

They smiled at me.

I smiled back. "Do you want to watch something?" I motioned to the tv.

They looked at each other before walking to me. They sat down on either side of me. "What are we watching?" Louie asked.

"I don't know." I was going through channels.

"We can watch a movie." Leila suggested.

"Maybe," I nodded slowly until I looked up, I had heard a noise upstairs. "No, go away." I mumbled.

"Who?" Leila asked.

I looked at her. "Shax," I sighed. "It's been tormenting me more lately."

"How come?" Louie asked.

I sighed. "With each book I write, I keep it alive."

They nodded.

"I don't want it to be alive but, if I stop, it would get stronger immediately and I don't know what would happen then..."

"Maybe we can fight it?" Louie suggested.

"Wednesday, Estelle, and Christina all tried that, remember?" I said to which they nodded slowly. "They all lost."

"Maybe we can try to talk to it?" Leila suggested.

I huffed. "Shax is an evil demon, Leila," I looked at her. "It nearly killed Bree in this new book..."

"I know it sounds crazy," Louie suddenly said. "But maybe Leila is right," He said to which I raised my eyebrows. "Maybe we do need to talk to it."

"Yes," Leila went on. "It couldn't hurt to try."

Before I could say something, the front door opened. "Honey, I'm home!" Melody said as she put her keys on the table next to the front door. She undid her jacket and shoes, and walked into the house. I would call that her 'coming home routine'.

I looked besides me and noticed Leila and Louie had disappeared, as they always did whenever someone entered the room. I sighed before getting up to meet my wife in the kitchen. "Hey."

Melody looked at me. "You didn't cook?"

I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. It's true, I was home but I didn't cook dinner for us. Why didn't I?

Melody sighed before turning to the fridge. She looked around in it, on the hunt for our dinner. She eventually closed the fridge and placed the food of her choice on the kitchen counter.

I walked to her and wrapped my arms around her. "I missed you."

"Lana, not now." She walked out of my embrace and started making dinner.

I sighed but decided to let her be. I watched her make dinner, I knew by now to never interrupt her while she's working on something. It was her way or no way. And, since I didn't know what her way for dinner was, I better stay out of it.

"How was your visit to the firm?"

Work, I wanted to say. She couldn't call what I do 'work'. As if I was just hanging around, doing nothing... "Good." But I knew better not to fight her.

She glanced at me for a bit. "Tell me about it."

I smiled then. "Isaac and Chelsea were happy about the new book, they said I did a good job."

Melody nodded. "And sales?" She looked at me. "Did it sell?"

I sighed. Always stupid sales... "Yes," I then remembered the report Isaac had given me. "Wait, I've got something," I walked to the front door, where I had left my bag. I opened it and took out the report. I then walked back to Melody. "Here you go." I then motioned it to her.

Melody looked at it before going back to preparing dinner. "What is that?"

"Sales, like you asked."

She dropped her work and sighed. "Why do I get the feeling you don't care about it?"

"Mel, you know I care."

She raised her eyebrows. "I know you care about writing but I doubt you care about sales."

I looked down then.

"Lana," She cleaned her hands and walked to me. She took my hands in hers. "I know writing is your passion - it's the only reason why I'm allowing you to be a writer -  but you have to make a living. You can't expect me to work a full-time job while you sit at home doing your hobby."

I couldn't help but look down even more, if that was possible. "I work hard on those books, Mel."

"I know you do," She caressed my cheek, making me look at her. "That's why it's important you make a good living for it. Effort needs to be paid, why would you put in effort otherwise?"

"Because it's my passion," I looked at her then. "I adore it, it's me, it's who I am."

Melody showed me a small smile. "You are Lana Julie Edwards, you're my amazing wife. That's who you are."

I looked down and swallowed my words. I couldn't win this battle, I knew I couldn't. As Melody just said: why put in the effort if it doesn't get you anywhere?

"Dinner's ready," She said, gaining my attention once again. "Have a seat and tell me everything about that report."

I nodded and sat down while Melody was serving us.

__________________________

I sipped my cup of tea while I stared in front of me, to nothing in particular. Sometimes I wondered: what's the point? Why do I work so hard to then get criticized by my own wife? What's the point, really?

"Life is hard."

I looked at my right.

"Life is unfair."

I sighed. "It sure is."

Wednesday looked at me. "You're way too soft on her."

"Maybe," I looked down. "But I love her," I then looked at Wednesday. "I'd do anything for her."

"Marriage is accepting each other's personality, interests, and passion," Wednesday then leaned in closer to me, so I could see her darkened eyes. "That's what Melody said in her vows."

"I know," I looked away. "I know she said that," I sighed. "Things changed, I guess."

"Yes," Wednesday nodded. "She did," She said to which I looked at her. "And you did," She scooted even closer. "Lana," She reached for my hands, only to hold them in hers. "Shax is growing stronger. Estelle, Christina, and I can't keep fighting it without you."

I looked down.

"We need our author."

I slowly nodded.

She made me look at her again. "We need you."