Sunny Vacation Prompt (Part 1)

Celia woke up determined to pull herself together. She’d spent the past few weeks mourning the end of a post divorce relationship, crying entirely too much. She was sick of herself and was pretty sure if she didn’t get a grip her friends would be sick of her too. As she made herself a pot of piping hot black coffee she scrolled through her emails, deleting anything that was junk or spam. Something stopped her from deleting one that had a very spammy look about it at first glance: You’ve won a week-long all expenses paid trip to Aruba! She read the details, looking for a catch. To her surprise, it appeared to be legitimate, mentioning one of her friends by name.

Apparently Nancy had entered her in a lottery for the trip to a Caribbean singles resort. Nancy was such a good egg. After Celia had been unceremoniously dumped by her boyfriend of two years, and she’d taken to her bed in self pity, Nancy had come right over with wine, which they’d drunk together in her bed, laughing and laughing. Celia had gone back to crying as soon as Nancy left of course. She spent the next few weeks whenever not at work alternating between writing indignant letters she’d never send to her ex, and reading self help articles and memes about narcissists sent to her by her friends. She knew it was important in her “healing journey” to “experience all [her] feelings” and avoid any contact with her ex Nick, so she wrote the letters in a journal and cried anew at the poignancy of her own beautiful words of hurt. She tried not to drink too much, and little by little her sadness lessened.

With her new resolve to move forward, what a coincidence that this free trip email had come. She decided she had nothing to lose. It was free after all! She called the number at the bottom of the email and made arrangements to fly out in three days. What better cure for a broken heart than a beautiful, sunny singles resort! Especially in the middle of February in New York, where it was cold, gray, and dismal with no end in sight. She stood in front of her long mirror in her panties and camisole and thought, “damn, I look pretty good!” All the crying and grief had to have shaved off 5-10 pounds, and she was bikini-ready.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Jack whimpers.

I glance down at the email. “That’s what it says.”

“Then why does it look… dead?” Kate asks.

Jack squeaks.

“I don’t know. The email said it was a free week-long ticket to this amusement park.”

Kate snorts. “Looks like you got scammed.”

I groan and look around. This was definitely not a vacation. Years of debris, dust and gravel coat the ground. The air smells of rotting wood and oil. The rides bent and twisted, destroyed beyond repair. The arcade smashed and shattered.

Yet, there is something… eerie about this place. Something I can’t explain…

Snap. I look over and see Kate snapping photos with her new camera.

She points it at Jack and says, “Smile!”

He scowls and goes to bat the camera away.

Kate gasps and hugs it close. “Don’t touch my baby.”

“We should get out of here,” Jack whispers, turning to me.

Whoosh.

I turn around. What was that? I hear Kate and Jack gasp.

Whoosh.

What…? I hear a scream and turn around.

“Kate… where’s Jack?”

Kate, pale-faced and sweaty, trembles, “I don’t know… I think… something.. snatched him up..”

“That’s right,” I hear a throaty voice say behind me. I spin around.

There stands a tall, woman wearing a white, flowing dress. Her skin is pale, her eyes black and sunken in.

“Are you a ghost?” Kate asks.

She smirks, “That’s what you humans call us? Then again, you’re not very smart are you? You came here.”

I gulp. “Where’s Jack?”

“Oh… he’s safe…”

“What do you want..?” Kate trembles.

The ghost smirks. “Oh… just…” she glances at the sky.

What is going on?

Suddenly, she gasps. “It’s here. It’s finally here. Freedom. At last.”

She turns and floats through the gates, spreading her arms. Kate and I glance at each other and make a run for it. When we reach the exit… we can’t get out. It’s like there is an invisible wall. What…?

The ghost floats in front of us. “Oh… I should tell you… you can’t leave. You’re stuck. Just like I was all these years. Now it’s your turn. Until you can get someone else to take your place, you can’t leave.”

She turns to leave and then stops. “Oh… and one other thing. Jack’s dead.”

Kate crumples to the floor, sobbing.

The ghost whimpers, mockingly, “Aww.. are you sad? Well… too bad.”

She leaves. And we’re stuck.

Work had been quiet and bit of a drag. Billy’s friends had faded into myth status and he just needed a break from all this drama. Whilst reading some personal emails at work, he discovered an email that had the bold claim that he had won a holiday. Billy was no idiot. He knew that it was a scam but having a closer look, he noticed that it was exactly what his brain was asking for. A week-long holiday in Spain, in Madrid! That was bound to have him roasting in the the sun, in a good way! He was intrigued but before he committed to giving this email more of his time. He clicked the email address that had sent him this bundle of joy.

noreply@PostcodeHolidayLottery.com

Usually this would be garbage text so he continued reading.

“Dear Billy”,

They knew his name. Usually a scam would have dear winner or something. The email outlined what was won and the conditions of the won holiday. A big green button enticed Billy to confirm.

A phone call followed immediately after and cautiously he was told that he must pack immediately. It must be legit.

He was told to go to a certain stop at the city coach station. He thought it was a strange mode of transportation. Upon arriving and entering the coach, he found fellow winners and it seemed surreal to find that they all had won this week trip. They were on their way and whilst chatting to his fellow winners, he grew increasingly sleepy…

When he woke up, he found himself strapped onto a cold steel operating table.

“What is going on!?” He wanted to to shout. But he was gagged. To his right and scattered across the room were his fellow winners in different states of undress and a few who had incisions across their bodies. He knew it was too good to be true.

He screamed but couldn’t get louder than the drill. Soon he would descend into myth status.

Winning a week-long sunny vacation couldn’t have come at a better time;it almost seemed to good to be true… I entered a raffle for a week in a mansion at the beach. I knew I wouldn’t win! But…..3 weeks later I got a call from CheepzSweepz.com. I picked up and suddenly I heard,”CONGRATULATIONS TO CECILIA MOON FOR WINNING OUR SWEEPSTAKE!!” I squealed and said,”OMG REALLY?!” “Yes! Pack your bags Cecilia! You are going to the beach!”

A week later I arrived at the beach. I came to the “Cheepz Sweepz Office” to collect my keys and to find out where I would be staying. “Hi!” I said “I’m Cecelia Moon. I’m here to collect my keys to the mansion!” “Of Course!” The tiny receptionist handed me an address and some keys. “Have a great week Cecilia!”

I arrive at the address and to my surprise;find a tiny condo! In small print on the side of the condo is written “The Mansion” The worst part is;instead of being a beachfront home it is 3 miles away from the beach! “Well” I say to myself. “I better rent a bike.”

I could not have possibly waited patiently for this. I went to the location where it stated on the ticket to claim my reward. I arrived at this awful street where only homeless people lived. I checked my location to make sure it was accurate and it was. It was so strange that this was the place. I knocked at the building, which seemed very old and broken, and no one answered. “Uh-hello?” I said with suspicion. “I’m here to claim my reward. I’m the first place winner from the raffle in Downtown Square Mall? Hello?!” I began panicking when I started to feel a sinister presence. I began to sprint away and suddenly the door opened on its own. I knew that it would be extremely stupid to go in. As soon as I began rapidly walking away, I got an anonymous text. “Hello! It’s Rob from Downtown Square Mall! Excuse the mess of a place! Please come in to claim your reward. I can operate the door from my desk. Please come in”, the text stated. Could this be true or just a hoax? I cannot possibly fall for this. My head was going in circles trying to decide if I should enter or not. I received another text. “Come in now. If you don’t enter in the next few seconds my men will force you in so enter now!” I began to see two men and I rushed inside. “Hello there. I’m so glad you decided to come in. Welcome to “First Place”, An old man with a gun said with a sinister look. “W-what is this” I began to tremble with such fear. “Every month we host a raffle where we offer one week of vacation to a beautiful island only to arrive here. This is a place of pleasure and you have won ‘First Place, sweetheart.” In shock, tears kept rolling down my cheeks and I began to hear woman screaming. I began to think if I was in a human trafficking lair but I was wrong. It’s worse.

The snow was coming down in great, wet flakes as I pulled into the garage. The forecast was for blizzard conditions over night with temperatures falling into the teens.

“Just perfect,” I mumbled, retrieving the bags of groceries from the back seat. “So damn perfect.”

I went through the door into the kitchen, slamming it behind me and plunking the bags on the counter. This was supposed to be the weekend for our big post-Christmas open house. We had done it since we got married and Frank and I loved every minute of the planning and having friends and neighbors in and out most of the day. We lived in the mountains of north Georgia and it was very rare that we got so much snow, but Mother Nature was determined to spoil our weekend.

“Frank! Have you seen the weather report? It’s going to be pretty awful by this time tomorrow!” I yelled at him down the hallway, knowing he was probably hunched over his computer finishing up his end of year reports for our landscaping business. There wasn’t much actual landscaping going on up here until May but the bookkeeping was never ending.

I heard him sauntering down the hallway and he came into the kitchen and started helping me unpack the groceries. “Well, most of the fresh stuff will keep and we can freeze what is freezable. No real harm.”

“Except I was so looking forward to our regular thing.” I put my arms around his waist and began to sniffle. “It’s tradition. OUR tradition.”

He held me for a few minutes and let me get it out of my system. “How about a new tradition this year? How about one that involves just us?”

“You mean like a fire in the fireplace and good wine and cheese? Because I think we’ll be pretty much stuck here for a few days. There’s ice involved in this mess from what I understand.”

“Nope. What I have in mind involves absolutely NO ice except in a frozen margarita. Follow me, my lady.”

He took my hand and walked me back to his study, clicking on a site. “Voila!”

I stared at the screen, trying to make sense of what I was seeing and then yelped. “Are you SERIOUS? Bermuda?”

“Yup. When I heard the weather report I thought ‘why not’? We’ve been yakking about this for a couple of years and so I have made all he arrangements.” He looked at the time. “But scurry, scurry, little mouse because we have to be on the road to the airport in twenty minutes to make our flight.”

“I can’t get ready in…”

“Listen! Just grab enough to put in a carry on. We’ll pretty much live in bathing suits and shorts and we’ll buy what we need in Bermuda. We’ve had such a good year in the business and we need this vacation. Let’s make it a Great Adventure!”

I grabbed him around the neck and planted a big ol’ kiss on him. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“You just did. Now move it, woman!”

And that’s how we ended up in Bermuda a few hours later, stretched out on beach chairs and sipping those frozen margaritas. Pure bliss.

Past experience told me that if something was too good to be true, it was. So when I walked into my favorite lunchtime diner and got a vacation in the Bahamas as a side to my usual burger and fries, I was sure there was some sort of catch. A week long vacation for free just for being the one millionth customer? The doubt wheels were turning in my mind.

However, I could not just turn down a vacation closer to the equator when it was snowing every day in my hometown. So I packed my bags and headed to the airport, full of excitement and anticipation as to what fate had planned me for when I landed. After a nine hour flight squished into about half a seat next to a 300lb man, my two feet hit the ground and I was ready for the sunshine and sand.

I was euphoric when everything turned out to be just the way I had hoped. The staff was amazing, the tourists were tourists, and the warm sand reenergized my drained batteries. After a week of paradise, I certainly did not want to go back. This past experience taught me that sometimes life gives you exactly what you need at the exact moment you need it, and to have faith in the natural order of things.

A day of rest, A day of relief, A lifetime of day dreaming, Takes me back to a memory.

When the sun rose above the ocean, And the waves collided with the shore. When the children sang with laughter, And the couples drew closer together.

As the evening came to an end, The sun slept again. As the moon rose in its wake, A new setting came to play.

I drew you closer as we danced, In that moonlight we took a chance. You stared deeply into my eyes, And said to me those three words, taking me by surprise.

I woke up to a new day, A dream, a thought, a memory in my way. I only wish it were true, The summer day set for two.

A week long sunny vacation in the tropics. Perfect. I can hardly wait. I don’t actually remember entering the competion, but then, I enter all sorts of things if they’re free. I was amazed when the email came saying I’d won and then even more amazed when the plane tickets arrived.

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Here I am, true it’s economy class and true it’s all a bit down market. Why the smelly woman next to me thinks it’s ok to bring a live chicken in a cat basket onto the plane I don’t know. I’m surprised it’s allowed. I wish she would stop eating garlic sausage. Still, plenty of free vodka.

—————————

Anyway, here we are at the hotel. Well, more like a row of huts. Not clean either. But hey, it’s free. I didn’t know I would have to share. With three strangers. It might not be so bad but they do smell. No-one speaks English not that they say much anyway. They all came in just before dark, fell on their cots and went to sleep. A cacophony of snoring. And why is the door locked?

—————————

Four in the morning and we were all rousted out and made to stand in a line. Now there are several big guys with cattle prods. I am now the proud owner of a shovel. I don’t like this. We’re being loaded, thirty of us to a truck. The cattle prod really hurts. I said there’d been big mistake. Apparently the mistake is all mine.

I had never been on a plane before, and the prospect of winning any competition had never even entered my mind, for I never took part in any. So, when the letter arrived through my door, you can believe I was somewhat perplexed. It could be an advertisement; I told myself after I first read the letter. It could be a scam, I told myself, after reading it twice.

But on the third read, I looked to the mantlepiece, to his photo frame and his photograph within—my beloved Sebastian, at my joyous Bash. “Was this you?” I said out loud and huffed a laugh. “Is this your way of telling me I need to get out more?” I glanced back at the letter and sighed, my eyes scanning over the list of available facilities that the park offered: a theme park, a private beach, skydiving, an all-day buffet. “You did always bring the fun. But, I don’t think—” A gift card slipped from the envelope, gliding to the carpet. “Woah. £50 to spend on doughnuts?” I smiled at Sebastian again. “Oh, my love. You did always know the way to my heart. Should I do it then? Should I go? Oh, could you not give me that look? I’m great at making decisions, and,” I pondered, “I do have a week left of holiday to take.” With one last read of the letter, I slapped my hands on my legs. “I’m going to do it. For you, Bash. For me.”

My stomach flipped as I zipped up my suitcase—the day had arrived. I placed a red rose next to him on the mantlepiece—next to his urn—and ran my thumb over the cold glass of the picture frame—over his cheek. “I’m I being stupid, Bash? Should I just stay here?” Thunder rumbled, and rain hammered against the windows—the grey, early morning light stark in contrast to the dark blue of my living room walls. I tightened my grip on my suitcase. “A bit of sun would be nice. I will take loads of pictures. Would you like to see them once I get back?” Another rumble of thunder echoed outside. “Okay,” I breathed in deep. “I will be back soon, my love. Wish me luck.” Stepping into the hallway, I removed my car keys from their hook; I took one last looked at my tiny house before closing the door behind me.

The rain followed me to the airport, my shoes squelching as I left my car and squeaking as I entered the terminal. “Good morning, welcome to Wright Airport,” A woman sat behind the desk, her smile as wide as her face. “Hi, um, Alice Jackson,” I said, “for...for the flight to Errat Parks.” I handed over my passport and boarding pass, along with the letter. The woman inclined her head politely, reading over the slips of paper. She typed something onto her computer, then returned her gaze to mine; the corner of her lips turned into a pained smile.

A bead of sweat dripped down my back—something was wrong, why did something have to go wrong? Nothing would have gone had Sebastian been here. He would have flashed the woman a wicked grin or told an embarrassing joke which would have nonetheless made the woman and me laugh. I dug my nails into my palms. Why wasn't my Sebastian here?

“I’m sorry, Ms Jackson.” The woman said softly. “This ticket is listed out to a Mr A Jackson.” She clicked a few keys on her keyboard. “The Errat company must have sent it to the wrong address.”

No, no, no! This doesn't seem right, this— I swallowed. “So...” My voice cracked. “So I haven't won a holiday?” “No. I’m sorry—” A high pitch rang in my ears, blurring out every noise, tuning out every voice. I turned from the desk, from the woman and her pitying eyes, from the other passengers and their smug smirks.

Heat smothered my face, stealing my breath, as I hurried from the terminal out into the cool air. My suitcase wheel caught on the uneven pavement, and it twisted in my hand, the soft side of the fabric grating along the floor. I ignored it, simply pulling it harder towards the car park.

I slammed the car door shut behind me, my back moulding into the seat. My throat burned, and tears threatened to explode from my eyes—I am never leaving the house again. My phone slipped from my knee, plummeting to the floor. The screen flashed on, and my Bash’s face stared back, his cheeks a rose’s flush, his smile a beautiful curve of bliss. The picture was my favourite, taken on a trip to Cornwall on our first anniversary. My breath hitched, and I whispered, “I knew it seemed too good to be true.”