She sat silently, waiting for the last plane out of Richmond. In her pale hands a

small-over stuffed suitcase was held. The last few weeks of Shauna McColl’s life could

be descibed as hell. It all started on June 1st of 2003. Shauna McColl woke up that

morning feeling refreshed and alive.

Slipping out of the covers she placed her feet over the side of the bed and onto the

deep blue carpet, streched her out her arm, and flipped on the small lamp next to the bed.

glancing down at the clock, which read 4:30 A.M., a small groan reached her ears.

Smiling she reached behind her and poked the sleeping form of her husband, “Sweetie,”

she said softly, “it’s time to get up, your going to miss our flight.”

An arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to the left side of the bed,

hugging her close. Letting out a small giggle Shauna, gently pushed the arm away.

“Come on get up, you still need to shower and finish packing.”

The arm wrapped around her again, “Only if you join me,” was the muffled

response that came from the covers.

Gently pushing the arm away once again she climbed off the bed. Bending over

she grabbed the top of the covers and yanked them down to the floor. “I don’t think so,

we don’t have time, now get up.” Smacking his rear softly she exited the room. “You

better be showered before I finish the cofee,” She shouted as she descended the stairs.

Take a few minutes to fix the coffee, she scampered back upstairs. Looking into

the bedroom, she found it deserted and empty. “Still, in the shower, eh?” She thought to

herself as she walked over to the dresser. “I swear that man is worse that a woman.”

Pulling open the dresser drawer, she pulled out a tee shirt and jeans. Slipping out of her

nightgown she donned the clothes and tossed the nightgown into the hamper. Turning

around she stepped infront of the mirror. Gazing at her reflection she surveyed each

aspect of her body. Covering her head was a wave of strawberry blond hair, cut to her

shoulders. Her thin-framed glassees, only used for reading, diminished her crystal blue

eyes. Traveling down her face she noticed ther full red lips and defined chin.

“You look more beautiful everyday,” the words were whispered into her ear as the

strong arms of Commander Steven McColl wrapped around her.

Blushing slightly she turned in his arms and hugged him close. “I wish you didn’t

have to leave,” she whispered to his chest.

“I know darling, but don’t worry, nothing is going to happen, I will only be gone

for a few weeks, and you won’t even notice that I am gone.” He pressed a kiss to her

forehead and let her go. “Come on, let’s get breakfast.” Taking her hand he led her

downstairs and into the kitchen.

After eating a quick breakfast, Steven headed up stairs to grab his duffel, while

Shauna went outside to start the car. Slipping into the leather seats of their corvette she

started the engine. Tapping her fingers on the sterring wheel, she hummed along with the

radio. After a few moments, her husband slipped into the passenger seat.

“Ready to go?” she said softly, reluctantly. Receiving a short and quick nod she

pulled out of the driveway and into the street. It took them a half an hour to reach the

Richmond airport. Standing at the gates, where he was to board she looked at him sadly,

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” He whispered and kissed her deeply. Breaking the kiss he turned

and gave his boarding pass to the flight attendant. Stepping into the tunnel connecting to

the plane he looked back at his wife one more time. Mouthing, “I love you.” he turned

and disappeared from sight.

Heaving a sad sigh, Shauna turned and slowly walked the distance from the

airport to her car in a matter of moments. Sliding into the car and turning it on she made

her way home. Reaching home around 7:30, she quickly changed into her work clothes;

pinstriped slacks with a matching jacket, a baby blue silk blouse, and black, two-inch

heels. Glancing at the mirror for a moment, she let out a satisfied sigh and left the

premises.

Driving slolwy and savoring the peace around her she eventually made it to the

office. Parking in her spot, which read “Senior Partner”, she stepped out of the car, her

heels hitting the smooth pavement with a cluncking sound. Reaching into the car she

grabbed her breifcase and shut the door. Hitting the lock button on the reomote she

casually walked up to the building.

The structure of Walker and Smythe loomed up before her. The ten-story law firm

emitted, what seemed to be an errie yet powerful presence. Stepping through the glass

doors, she headed toward the elevators. Pushing the button that would take her to her

floor, she waited patiently for the doors to open. Stepping onto the elevators she pushed

the tenth button and rode the elevator to the top floor. After reaching the top floor she

strolled over to her office and entered it.

She placed her breifcase onto her desk and pushed the call button on her phone,

“Trisha, are there any messages?” She asked into the phone.

“Yes, Mr. Lyondell said he would like to see you right away, and your mother-in-

law called, she wants you to have dinner with her tomorrow.” Trisha replied.

Shauna sighed heavily, she really didn’t want to have dinner with her mother-in-

law. “Thank you Trisha,” she said and flipped off the phone.

The day passed with out much insident and at five o’clock Shauna headed home.

Pulling into the driveway, she noticed two men in uniform standing on her front step. A

feeling of dread washed over her as she climbed out of the car and walked up path to the

house. Pausing in front of the men she looked at them questionaly.

“Are you Mrs. McColl?” one of them asked. She nodded and he handed her a slip

of paper. “We are deeply sorry miss about your loss,” he said and stepped away.

“My loss?” She said, and watched the uniformed men leave. Frowning and not

looking at the slip of paper in her hand she entered the house. Setting her breifcase down

and her keys she took a moment to read the paper in her hands.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips as she leand back against the door. “No…It

can’t be, they’re mistaken,” she said aloud, her voice quivering. “No,” she repeated

over again. “No.” She stood there for hours the news sinking into her like a boulder in

water.

She jumped slightly when the phone rang. Moving from the spot she was rooted

to she picked up the phone with shaking hands, “H..Hello,” she stammered.

“Shauna, are you alright? I heard what happened, its all over the news. ” She

heard the voice of Trisha, over the reciver. “Shauna answer me, Shauna!”

“I…I..I’m fine,” she heard her voice choke out.

“No, your not, I’m coming right over.” Trisha said and hung up.

Shauna looked down at the phone and silently clicked it off. “This can’t be

happening to me, it was just a routine flight, delivering supplies, nothing should have

went wrong, he’s fine.” She repeated to herself over and over again. Sinking down to the

floor she buried her face in her hands.

A few moments later Shauna could hear a soft knock on the door. Making no

move to answer it she left her face in her hands. The door opened and Trisha walked in.

“Shauna, honey, where are you.” Trisha closed the door behind her.

Shauna lifted her head and turned her tear stained face toward the voice. “O..Over

here,” she mumbled. She was soon greeted with an arm around her, she recluntaly leaned

into the embrace. “Why?” was all she said.

Trisha pulled her close, “I don’t know, I guess God has a reason for everything.”

She stroked Shauna’s hair softly. “Why don’t we go do something, to keep you mind off

of it?”

“Alright,” Shauna mumbled, but didn’t make any notion of moving. Trisha stood

up pulling Shauna with her. “Come on, lets go shopping,”

Shaking her head Shauna mumbled, “I changed my mind. I..I want to stay here.”

Walking off toward the bedroom, she left Trisha standing there. “Thanks anyway.”

After hearing Trisha leave, she let out a small sigh, and curled up on the bed. Pulling the

covers over her she cried herself to sleep.

The next two weeks went by as a blurr for Shauna, all she could remember was

getting up, going to work, going home, people coming over to give their condsolaces and

then repeating the same thing over and over again. As the weeks passed Shauna sunk

deeper and deeper into depression, her work started getting lousy, she started drinkin,

and she threatened

sucidide.

Three weeks after the death of her husband, someone at the office finally took

notice of Shauna’s conditon. Taking Shauna’s arm and pulling her aside, Mr. Hollworth,

the other senior partner, said, “Shauna, I think you should get some help.”

Pushing him away from her, she snorted, “I don’t need help, I am completely

fine.” She smiled. “See?” She walked off. Stopping in front of the elveators she was

confronted once again.

“Shauna, with deepest respect, I beg to differ, your work is lacking, you keep

treatening to kill you self and your drinking your life away,” He placed a hand on her

shoulder. “You need help. I know this psychiariast, I used to see her when my wife died,

she’s the best in the business, I think you should give her a call.” He handed her a card

and squeezed her shoulder gently. “Please Shauna, at least try?”

Sighing she stepped into the elevator, “Sure,” she said as the door shut. Placing

the card in her pocket she waited patiently for the elevator to reach the bottom floor.

Stepping out of the elevator and onto the tile of the first floor she quickly exited the

building, eager to go home to her bottle of whiskey.

Reaching home a few minutes afterwards she practically ran to the cupboard

holding her stash of whiskey. Grabbing a glass and a bottle she made her way to the

living room and plopped down onto the couch.

She poured herself a half a glass and flipped on the T.V. Taking a sip she let out a

contented sigh. “Always comforts me.” She says aloud. Picking up the remote she flipped

through the channels. Stopping at a movie that peaked her intrestet she sunk deeper into

the couch, still sipping her whiskey.

Reaching in her pocket she pulled out the card Hollworth and given her. Maybe

he was right, maybe she was sick. Picking up the phone she dialed the number. Hearing

the other end pick up she said, “Hello, yes I would like to make an appointment.” Going

through the basics she finally hung up the phone. Looking down at the glass in her hands

she sighed. “First step, stop drinking.”

Shauna called into the work the next morning and explained that she wouldn’t be

able to come in due to personal problems. Dressing lightly she walked out the door and

jogged off toward the psychyriasits office. Trying to make herself prestntable she entered

the building. Stepping up to the secetary she gave her name and sat down.

After waiting for a few moments Shauna was finally called into the off is of Dr.

Frydell. Shaking hand she took a seet opposite the desk. The talked for an hour and

Shauna was pescribed some medication to help with the depression. Two more weeks

passed by and Shauna visited the psychairist daily and seemed to be getting better, but

everytime she stepped into her house her reslove seemed to snap and she sunk into

depression once again.

At her next session she asked the psychariast what to do. “Why don’t you try

moving out for a bit?” the psychariast suggested.

Biting her lip she nodded. “I think that may work. I get so depressed when I’m in

there.” She stood up and left. She headed home and began to pack her things. An hour

later she could be seen sitting in the Richmon air port with a stuffed suitcase in her hands.

“We are now boarding first class passengers for flight 156 to Hawaii” The voice

said over the intercom. Standing up she headed toward the boarding place and pulled out

her ticket.

“Shauna,” A voiced whispered. Blinking, she looked behind. Seeing no one she

shrugged and mumbeld, “I must be imaging things.” She handed her ticket to the flight

attenedent.

“SHAUNA!,” This time she knew she wasn’t dreaming. “Steven?” She muttered.

She turned slowly and spotted him running toward her. She blinked. “I’m dreaming, he’s

dead, he can’t be here,” Her breath catches in her throat as she remembers the telegram.

:stop: Commander McColl’s plane went down. :stop: Rescue was commissonded :stop: No bodies were found :stop: All passengers presumed dead :stop:

She let out the breath she was holding and mumbled, “They didn’t actually say he

was dead, the just presumed he was,” She looked up. “Could it really be him?” She

watched as the man ran toward her. “STEVEN?” She yelled, completley ingoring the

flight attendent who was trying to get her attention.

Stopping in front of her he looked at her expression. “Honey,” He said in a warm

deep voice.

“S…Steven, Is it really you?” She reached up and touched his faces, as if her

hand would go right through it.

“Yes,” He whispered and cradled her hand with his own. “It really is me, Oh

Shauna, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Oh, Steven,” She cried and hugged him close. “I thought you were dead.”

“I know sweety, I thought I was going to be to, lets not think about it,” Tilting her

chin up he looked into her eyes. “I love you,” He whispered.

“I love you two Steven,” She said and kissed him.

powerful, intense words. So vivid in illustration, but mysterious.

I like the tradition of your story. It definitely drew me in.

I hope I never experience a downfall like that. Even though her mate isn't truly dead...the time lapse she endured thinking that he was...is just brutal. I don't think I would be strong enough to pull myself out of misery. Then again, the realization that he in fact was alive is refreshing and even more prevailing.

I honestly hope I got the concept of your story.

I think you pretty much have it down. *nods*