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Some Things You Can't Change	By : selphiealmasy8 Category: G through L > Jeepers Creepers Views: 6564 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
Some Things You Can�t Change

Disclaimer: I don�t own the rights to the characters or
incidents in the Jeepers Creeper films.
Victor Salva has that honor.

Note: I loved the
first JC film but didn�t like the sequel as much except for the scene with Darry. There might
be some things that contradict or ignore certain events from JC 2. I will be incorporating the sequel in this
but that will come later since this looks like it will be a fairly long fanfic. It will also
become more adult oriented as it progresses.

Pairing: Darry/Trish

Summary: Trish is haunted by a black crow.

* * * * * * * * *

Chapter One:
Nevermore

* * * * * * * *

It was only when she was sitting in the backseat of the car
that had been made an unwilling witness to many of the
events that had happened since Darry and her had left
the campus that Trish Jennings finally cried.
Surrounded by her brother�s clothes which were scattered everywhere,
dirty and smelly but most of all so strongly suggestive of him that she broke
down suddenly, promising herself firmly that she would steal a few of the
garments so they could never be washed and lose so precious a scent. It would seem an insane thing to do until you
realized how sad the girl was. Until you
learned that the clothing belonged to a man now dead and gone. Until you knew how much Trish had loved him.

The car had died too.
Jezelle had been right about that also. Still it had been someone�s task to take the
few wanted items from the dead vehicle and transfer them to the other working
one that sat waiting. In her current
state of shock and devastation Mrs. Jenner could not
even comprehend the job, as simple as it was, let alone fufil
it. Mr. Jenner
had been equally inept. He was still
partly angry at both of his children, his daughter who was alive and present,
and his son who was dead and absent, for causing this mess and making him have
to come to some inconsequential town he had never even heard of before. The other side being unwilling to accept
everything he had been told, most painfully of all the fact that his only son
was gone. So Trish had been silently
chosen to retrieve the possessions from the light blue Chevy impala. Once again it had been her lot to be strong
and the paradox was that she did not have the strength to say no. Not now.
She managed to pile Darry�s clothing back into
the bag her brother had somehow miraculously managed to cram it all into
originally. The tears fell fiercely from
eyes already sore from lack of sleep.
After the task had been completed she exited the car and went to the
front seat, hoping that from this distance her parents would be unable to tell
that she was emotionally falling apart.

Sitting behind the steering wheel, having entered the car
again and closing the door to give herself some
solitude, Trish stared at the stick shift.
Suddenly, furiously she hit it, cursing it loudly. In her mind it had failed Darry
and herself. Trish had the sudden
conviction that if only they had been able to stay ahead of the demon that
hunted them Darry would not have been stolen from
her. If they had escaped and not become
trapped in the PoHo police station she would have
found a way to save him. He would be
safe now and they would be together.

The young woman almost broke down again in a flood of fresh
tears. After rubbing the hand that hurt
badly from striking the stick shift, Trish opened the glove compartment and
found mostly junk inside. There were
documents, used contact lenses, birth control pills and a pair of glasses she
rarely used because the frames were thick and stupid looking. Searching the back of the compartment she
pulled out a pack of Darry�s favorite gum. She had hid it in the back planning to give
it to him on the way home. It was a
little gift an older sister would give to her brother to tell him in some tiny
way that she didn�t find him half as annoying as she made it seem at times.

The tears claimed her again and she was unable to stop
them. Time stopped inside the dead
car. There was only the mourning woman
and the hole inside her called loss and grief.
Her body shook and she was only dimly aware that if her parents were
watching, as she was sure they must be, they would know that she was crying
from the shaking of her shoulders. Trish
didn�t care. All she had was the moment,
the gum in her hand and the memory of her brother.

The sound of tiny feet on the car�s hood went unheard by the
crying woman inside the car. The visitor
stared at the girl before interrupting her flood of tears with a sound. At first Trish though it was only her father
honking the car�s horn, telling her to hurry up, her mind was so clouded that
she didn�t realize that it had only been the cry of the crow standing on the
opposite side of the windshield staring in at her. Trish knew it was the same bird she had seen
after she had left the police station, leaving Jezelle
to continue her rambling that provided no consolation. She knew it was the same crow as surely as
she knew Jezelle�s words had been false. Trish touched and stroked the pane of glass
separating her from the crow, as if the glass wasn�t there at all and it was
actually the bird she touched. As if
reading her mind the crow moved closer to the glass, pressing it�s ebony feathers against the pane.

They did this mimicry of touch until Mr. Jenner
did what Trish had feared and blasted the horn, sending the crow back into the
air and away from her. Trish opened the
car door hurriedly to catch a glimpse of the crow�s departure. The crow however had not flown away. Trish watched amazed as it circled the sky
above the ground where she stood, still clutching the bag of her dead brother�s
laundry and the pack of gum. The crow
started to fly off in one direction, always eventually returning to the place
where Trish stood. It repeated this
action over and over until Trish realized it wanted her to follow. It was begging with her, pleading, for her to
go after it. Trying to show her the way
to something it alone knew.

The urge to do what it wanted was strong and Trish took one
step in the direction it led before the horn behind her reminded her who she
was and all that had happened. She was
not a crow. She had no wings. Her parents were waiting and she needed to go
to them, she lectured herself. She turned and headed for the car, looking
steadily at the ground as she went. She
knew if she looked back at the crow and it�s silent
instruction she would follow it no matter what.
She wouldn�t let herself give in.
She had her mother and father to think of. They had their questions that needed answers
and their own bereavement to face. She
must help them as best she could. Having
to watch her leave them and go after some bird would only add to their
troubles. They already probably thought
she was crazy enough as it was. It was
best not to prove it once and for all.

Trish Jenner went to the waiting
car and climbed into the back seat.

The crow watched as the car drove away. He did not follow. There will be time for it and there are other
things to attend to first he told himself. He knew the way to the place that
the car was heading as surely as he knew that she would be waiting for him
there. Then he would make her follow.

For there was still time but it, unlike the woman, would not
wait forever.

* * * *

The worst part about the drive home wasn�t the long silent
car ride, Trish realized, as she looked out the window at the dull empty
fields. It was what the silence reminded
you of. The worst part was the passing
cars with their license plates stringing together letters and numbers trying to
convey some silly name or saying. The
worst part was not hearing Darry�s voice as he tried
to guess what they were trying to say, usually not getting it right but at
least always trying. The worst part was
almost hearing his voice and then looking to her side and only seeing an empty
seat.

The worst part about arriving home was stepping through the
front door and once again being faced with the ringing silence. There was no race to the front door, a race
Darry always won because he was the only one competing in it. The worst part was not seeing her mother come
down the stairs to greet them, after having announced that they were there, and
kissing her son. The worst part was not
watching as Darry rolled his eyes, seemingly
embarrassed by being fussed over in such a way, acting like he was too old for
such behavior anymore
but then handing her the bag with his laundry to be washed as if he was still
only a child.

Having entered the house, Trish handed her mother the bag of
Darry�s clothing she had taken from the dead car in PoHo. On the ride
she had taken from the bag one of her brother�s shirts, socks and a pair of his
dyed pink underwear. She had removed
them to her own bag, which still held the yellow Bannon
shirt Darry had been wearing earlier that terrible
day, like some silent guilty thief.

Seeing the look on her mother�s face as she took the dirty
clothes, Trish knew they would also remain unwashed.

The worst part of being home was climbing the stairs and
passing Darry�s room, knowing that it would look just
the same as when he had last been in it.
It stood waiting for him unaware of all that had happened. Waiting for him to throw himself on the bed
and sleep away the most part of his vacation.
The room was waiting for someone who was not coming.

Trish walked to the door.
Touching the doorknob tenderly, she pressed her forehead against the
door itself. She kissed it and hurried
away because it was too painful to be standing so close to it and not hear him
on the other side.

The worst part about the house was that though Darry was not there some strange ghost of him lingered,
always seen and sensed with the heart and mind but never met. Some phantom remained that touched every
corner, every room, so you could not escape it�s
haunting. As if he was still somewhere
close but separated from you by the barrier between the dead and all that still lived.

The most painful thing for Trish was how everything reminded
her of the lost. It seemed she was a
ghost herself, no longer whole, and a lonely one at that, waiting for someone
she feared would never come and ease her from the pain and loneliness she felt.

* * * *

When there came a loud knocking on the front door, Trish
hurried to get it. While there had not
been many visitors to the house, those who had come, knowing what had happened,
were quick to try to offer hope to the three people in mourning. Darry could still
be alive they said. No body had been found.
Trish was afraid that her parents were starting to believe them,
starting to nurture some hope that was not real. They had not seen that thing. Trish had.
Fearing that it was yet another neighbor to falsely feed her parents
hope, Trish made sure she was the one to answer the door and handle whoever it
was standing behind it by herself.

As she opened the door, Trish Jenner
was shocked to find her ex-boyfriend Andrew Coller
standing before her. He was there
looking for all the world like some model from a Sears
catalogue, his blond hair freshly cut, wearing his track team jacket. He looked so innocent and all American that
Trish remembered Darry�s words about him: �Mr. Poly-Sci Track Team Guy� and the song he had jokingly sung. Trish felt the smile on her lips.

Andrew must have thought the smile was for him because he
seemed to relax a little.

�What are you doing here?�
Trish asked coldly.

�Mary told me what�s been going on,� was his answer and
Trish cursed Mary Handling her friend with an ear always willing to listen and
a mouth apparently eager to tell.

Trish stared at Andrew.
He was trying his best to look sympathetic and he did an okay job, so
much so that she was unsure if it was real or just another way to integrate himself back into her life.
She could still feel the wound he had given to her the last time when
she had told him it was over. Wounds
hidden in places not usually shown as if he was trying to mark that she was his
in some private obscene way. Others
remained also on her soul, scarring her in a way she feared she would never
completely recover from.

�Yeah and you thought� What did you think you could do for
me exactly?� Trish commented bitterly, folding her arms.

�Incase you wanted to talk.�

�I�ve already talked,� Trish stated. �I�ve talked to the police. I�ve talked to my parents and I talked to
Mary, as you already know, something I�ll think twice about before doing
again.�

�Trish� We�re closer than that. At least we use to be. Look I knew Darry
too.�

�Barely.� Trish snapped. �Although he knew you
pretty well. He thought you were
a jerk.�

This succeeded in shaking the man in front of her. He looked annoyed for a moment but then
quickly recomposed himself. �Look I just
thought you may want a shoulder to cry on.�

Trish didn�t say anything.
She did want a shoulder to cry on. Desperately.
But not from him.
The one she craved, the one offered to her in the past often but rarely
accepted belonged to her brother. But
then if he was here with her now she would have no reason to cry in the first
place.

�I love you, Trish,� Andrew said as if these words would
cause some cataclysmic change. It didn�t. Trish had heard them before, usually after he
had done something nasty to her, something he didn�t want anyone else to ever
know.

She shook her head and laughed sardonically at the words as
if they were an old joke that never lost its humor.

�I�m staying at the Providence Motel if you need me,� Andrew
said, ignoring her reaction. �Do you want the number?�

�No. I do own a
phonebook you know,� Trish said and then slammed the door, shaking her head,
unable to swallow the audacity of the man she had once thought she had loved.

�Who was that?� Mrs. Jenner asked, having appeared at the top of the stairs.

Trish weighed the possible reaction her mother would make if
she told the truth. Realizing that her
mother would likely start in on her aboutt her love
life she almost lied.
It was only after knowing it would give her some new brief thing to
obsess over that she decided to answer honestly.

�It was Andrew Mom,� Trish said, heading up the stairs.

�Andrew Coller? That nice young man? Why didn�t you invite him in?� her mom asked,
doing exactly as Trish had expected.

�I didn�t feel like it,� she replied.

�I don�t understand you, Trish. You found a wonderful man and you treat him
like that?�

Trish frowned. She
wanted to reply �How do you know how he treats me? Do you want to see something mother?� but she
held herself back.

Mrs. Jenner turned to return to
her room but stopped when there was another knock at the door. Trish and her stood
frozen before the younger woman descended the stairs, once more heading for the
front door. She distantly heard her
mother telling her that if it was Andrew to invite him in this time but she
blocked the voice out. Sighing heavily Trish
opened the door and found that this time she was greeted not by the sight of
her ex-boyfriend but instead by a black crow who was standing patiently on the
welcome mat, looking up at her.

Trish�s mouth fell open.
She knew strongly once again that this was the same bird as the one she
had seen in PoHo.
Their eyes locked. Trish stared
at the bird and the bird stared thoughtfully back.

�Who is it?� Trish
heard her mom call out. The bird crowed
as if in answer. Trish looked behind her
but remained silent for in truth she didn�t know quite what to say.

The crow continued to study her, meeting her eyes. Trish felt the sudden surge of tears fill her
eyes. It was crazy this jolt of
recognition, sadness and joy she felt when she looked at the bird. Still it was how she felt. Looking at the crow she felt whole, something
she had not felt since Darry had been taken.

�Is everything okay?�

Trish tried to reply that it was but she choked on the
words. She heard her mother coming down
the stairs and watched as the crow flew away.
She sensed her mother standing beside her.

�A crow?� Mrs. Jenner
said. �I hope it doesn�t come back. Terrible noisy birds. It would be awful to have to put up a
scarecrow in the front yard.�

Trish said nothing though the idea of a scarecrow appalled
her. She continued to watch the crow in the sky though it was very far away
now. Mrs. Jenner
closed the door, forbidding her daughter from looking at the crow�s departure
any longer.

�You should call Andrew,� the woman said.

�What?�

�Did Andrew tell you where he was staying? You should call him. You can go out tonight. Get back to living your life.�

Trish nodded again, dazed.
She turned and walked up the stairs.
She paused in front of Darry�s room. Remembering the crow flying away and how it
had stared at her as it stood on the welcome mat, Trish felt her heart tremor.

Wiping her eyes she remembered her mother�s words and the
sanity of something normal they promised.
She decided to phone Andrew. Then
she may be able to escape the house, the memory of Darry
and the black crow she knew for some strange reason had intentionally followed
her home.
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Some Things You Can't Change