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Some Things You Can't Change	By : selphiealmasy8 Category: G through L > Jeepers Creepers Views: 6565 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Jeepers Creepers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter Summary:
Both Trish and Jezelle dream�

Chapter
5: Dreams

Trish Jenner slept on the couch where she had talked with
Jezelle earlier that day. The psychic
had suggested the young woman rest and sleep.
She had not been willing to take no for an answer even though Trish had
argued that she was far too wired to sleep.

�You�ve got to,� Jezelle coaxed. �The body needs it�s rest to be at full working order. Then when you�re awake you can tell me what
I have to do with this. Something tells
me you didn�t come here just because you wanted my advice. You seem so gung-ho about going through with
that spell that I probably couldn�t stop you.�

�I can tell you now�� Trish said as she lay down. �I need the blood of someone deemed unworthy
of the Creeper. You said it sniffed
you� tested you but that it didn�t want you.�

�Yes,� Jezelle said.
�But you could fit that bill, Trish.�

�No. My blood�s the
same as Darry�s. I didn�t have anything
it needed but that doesn�t change the fact that it�s the same as someone it
did. That�s part of the incantation
too. I need the blood of someone deemed
worthy. Mine will have to do.�

Jezelle sighed.

�Will you help me Jezelle?�
Trish pleaded.

�We�ll talk about it later.
You can tell me what�s all in that little incantation since I don�t have
the foggiest idea what it says. Never
was one for the small print.�

Trish nodded.

�Now. I�ve got
things to do. Luke and I. I�m already
late as it is. You rest. I�ll see you later this afternoon.�

Trish watched Jezelle walk out of the room, Luke following
closely at her heels. The woman out of
the room now, Trish looked around at her surroundings. The room was crowded with ornaments and
bobbles. She could see every mystical
charm she had ever heard of and even some she hadn�t. It was also filled with various items unrelated to the
supernatural. She saw a stack of
records in a pile beside a record player and as her eyes rested on the
phonograph Trish frowned. She could not
look at it without remembering what the woman had told Darry at the police
station. She could not see it without
hearing Jeepers Creepers playing somewhere as Darry screamed.

As if sensing her sadness the crow flew down and landed on
her legs. Trish stroked its head. She felt suddenly tired. The weight of the burden she had temporarily
forgotten once again returned with a new addition this time: The fear that she would not be able to use
the chance offered to her. That she
wouldn�t be able to save her brother just as she had not been able to prevent
the Creeper from taking him before.

She was determined to at least try.

Taking a deep breath, Trish closed her eyes. The warmth of the crow sitting on her legs
was comforting and sleep eventually came, though she had doubted strongly that
it ever would.

Jezelle�s sleep prior to Trish�s arrival had been dreamless.
The girl�s was not.

Trish was back at her parents house; in the yard. The sun was setting. Everything became cast in gold. She was sitting on the swing set moving back
and forth. Darry was standing silently
in front of her staring at her. She
wanted to stop, get off of the swing and go and hold him. She couldn�t stop. Her legs bent constantly sending her higher and higher.

In another area of the yard, Trish watched 2 children
playing. Younger versions of Darry and
herself. Young Trish sat across from
young Darry. They were playing some
game with sticks and stones. Older
Trish watched as younger Trish cut herself on one of the stones she reached to
pick up. Young Darry stared at young
Trish. Without warning, he took her
hand and kissed her cheek. Young Trish
became startled. She pushed her younger
brother down. He stared at her
obviously hurt. Suddenly he fled.

Older Trish viewed the younger incarnation of her brother as
he ran towards the street. She heard
the roar of the truck�s horn before she saw the vehicle itself. It was a nightmare, exactly as it had been
when she had seen it first. She watched
helplessly as the beat up truck came down the street at a lightning pace
towards the boy.

�No!� she tried to scream at the boy but he did not hear
her. He seemed oblivious to the truck�s
approach or the awful sound of its horn.
He was too busy crying.

Trish tried to escape from the swing she felt glued to. With all the strength she possessed she
jumped off of it.

She was too late.

The Creeper�s truck hit the boy at the same moment Trish
Jenner fell to the ground. She could
hear her young self crying out, telling her brother that she loved him. She watched as the Creeper drove on,
dragging the tattered remains of the small boy under the tires of the
truck. The street became bathed in
blood.

Older Trish started to cry.
A fierce agonized sound.

As she felt a shadow fall on her she looked up and found
Older Darry silently studying her. He
looked at her leg and touched it. Her
knee was cut and bleeding. Trish had
not noticed. The pain in her soul had
eclipsed the physical wound.

Darry leaned in and kissed it. Trish moaned.

Another shadow fell on the both of them now. Trish looked to the sky and saw the Creeper
in flight.

It was coming to take her brother away from her.

Trish embraced Darry.
Her arms wrapped around him tightly.
If it took him this time it would take her as well. She would never let them be separated again.

Trish felt Darry�s lips on her own. She kissed him back, feeling his skin
pressed against her. The sky darkened
but from the progression of time. The
Creeper was gone. It was only Darry and
herself now, holding onto each other.
Trish moaned once again, calling out her brother�s name.

Then she awoke.

The room was darker than it had been when she had first
fallen asleep. It was obviously later
in the day yet still not night. Trish
sat up bringing a hand to her mouth.

�See. I told you you
needed to get some sleep.�

Jezelle was sitting on the floor. She had the priest�s diary in front of her. On either side, situated between the book
and Jezelle were several pieces of bones.
One set was white, the other black.

�What are you doing with that?� Trish asked the fear creeping noticeably into her voice.

Jezelle smiled.
�Don�t worry. It�s all Greek to
me. Or Latin in this case, I guess.�

Trish swung her feet over the edge of the couch. The crow flew to her side, anticipating the
action.

�You were dreaming weren�t you?�

�Yes,� Trish answered and felt the flush on her cheeks.

�About your brother?
I heard you say his name.�

Trish nodded.

�I haven�t had a dream like the one you were having since I
can�t remember when.�

The flush on Trish�s cheeks deepened.

�Usually just murder and other horrors for me,� Jezelle said wearily.

�Recently I�ve been having nightmares�� Trish said. �I still hear that truck. It�s horn��

�It haunted me before too,� Jezelle stated. �I don�t dream these nights though.�

�No dreams at all?�

�No. None at
all. I don�t know if it�s a good thing
or a bad. It�s like falling through the
air and not knowing what�s coming towards you underneath. Whether it�s a bed of nails or a stack of
pillows.

Silence stole across the room. It was neither tense nor calm.

�You didn�t tell me what you�re exactly doing,� Trish
commented.

The black woman sighed resting her hands on her knees. For the first time Trish saw that she held a
gold chain or something very much like it in her hand.

�I�m trying to find out something more about this book and
it�s spells. It�s called Divining. I use it usually to tell me something when
I�m not quite sure about something or the other. It�s not working now though.
I ask whether it�s good or bad� If it would go towards the white I�d
know it�s good and can be trusted. If
it moved towards the black I�d burn the book right now although it probably has
some kind of protective spell on it already. I don�t see why it wasn�t
destroyed by the fire at the Church already.�

�So what�s the answer?�
Trish asked not liking the fact that the book was so far from her.

�I don�t know. It
won�t tell me. It just stays in the
middle. It�s like it�s neither. Or maybe a little of both.�

�So can I have my book back?�

Jezelle turned around and laughed. She grabbed the book and handed it back to the young woman.

�Thanks,� Trish said, holding the book tightly.

�I suspect it�s a balance.�

�A balance? That�s
what the spell mentions too,� Trish mused.

�Makes sense.�

�Why?�

The older woman turned and faced the girl.

�There�s hardly a spell I know, which actually works, that
isn�t both bad and good. A
balance. Equal of each. Good will win in the end, at the final
battle, but till then it�s a draw. What
else does the spell say?�

�I�ll give you a rundown.
I don�t know if it�s right completely but I can promise you that when
the time comes I�ll say it perfectly. I
will make it work,� The words were not to be argued with or contradicted. They were made of steel and resolve, spoken
by a woman who would not be stopped from turning them into the truth.

Trish opened the book.
It was not difficult to find the spell.
It was on the last page .
Caressing the page, Trish mumbled to herself first before speaking out
loud for Jezelle to hear.

�On the 23^rd spring that the creature feasts and
rules both night and day,
One willing to fight against what may happen, can be given
the power to make it not come to pass�
Heartache can be mended�
Everything must be set into motion, the first step taken to
tragedy cannot be changed�
Yet there is hope.
If you are strong enough to fight against the demon�
If you are smart enough to out wit it and find what went
wrong, you will be granted what you desire�
But a balance there must be.
There is always a balance.
One good exchanged for another,
One bad given so another can take place.
Blood from one found worthy�
Blood from one that wasn�t craved.
At the end of the day as the sun appears to die,
Speak the words and find what you yourself crave.
All doubt will be removed.�

The ticking of a small clock on a stand was the only sound
in the room.

�That�s what it says.
The words underneath, the words that start the whole thing, I don�t know
what they are. They look like Latin but
I�ve never seen them before.�

Jezelle studied them.
�Probably no one has�this book�the priest who wrote it came from a time
when you could still believe in something like the Creeper and not expect to
get laughed at if you told someone. It
was a time for magic. But that�s both a
good and a bad thing also. A balance
too you might say.�

It was becoming darker now.
The room was filled with shadows.
Jezelle leaned over and turned on a small lamp beside the forever
ticking clock.

�I have a television around here somewhere,� Jezelle said. �I unplugged it about two months ago.�

�High electricity bill?�
Trish asked.

�No. Stupid soap
operas,� Jezelle chuckled. �They never
go the way you want them to and even when they do it all gets screwed up the
next week. Life�s too short for that
nonsense and trouble enough as it is. I
can plug it in for you if you want though.
I only get a few channels.�

The girl shook her head.
�That�s okay. Thanks anyway.�

Jezelle smiled and Trish gathered the strength to ask her is
she still would give her blood.

�Of course I will,� Jezelle said. �I think you�d take it from me anyway and I won�t have you carry
that on your conscience.�

Trish threw her arms around the woman. She was not usually given to showing signs
of open affection, that had been more common of Darry, still she felt a deep
emotion towards Jezelle Gay Hartman that felt very much like love. Even if it was caused only by gratitude.

Jezelle patted her on the back. �Darry�he was a good boy.
He thought the world of you, girl.
He loved you�so much so that in the end he didn�t care if that thing
took him. As long as it wasn�t
you. I�d do anything to help heal you,
Trish. That�s what he would want and
it�s the least I can do for the boy.�

The crow cawed.
Jezelle felt the fabric on her shoulder becoming very wet from the young
woman�s tears.

The two women parted.
They spoke no words. Jezelle
walked towards the doorway. �I�m going
to bed. If you change your mind about
the tv its around here somewhere. The
socket�s over there,� she said and pointed towards the area where the
phonograph sat. �It may get kind of
boring around here. There�s plenty of
books though. Feel free to pick one
up. Just ignore any papers inside. They�re probably just lottery tickets and
numbers anyway.�

�Do you ever win anything?�
Trish asked sardonically.

�No!� Jezelle exclaimed and laughed. �Pathetic isn�t it? Forced to see so many horrors and not even
allowed to make a little money off the lottery to make life comfortable at least. No balance there I guess.�

�Good night Trish.�

�Good night Jezelle.
Sweet dreams.�

�You forgot honey,� Jezelle said. �I don�t dream these days.�

Jezelle offered Trish a weak smile and silently left the
room.

That night Jezelle did dream. It was a dream she hadn�t the heart to tell Trish Jenner about in
the morning when she awoke and was sure that no matter what the poor woman did
she could not keep her brother safe and alive.

No matter what a long dead priest had written in his diary.
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Some Things You Can't Change