Island Fever Ch. 20

Chapter 20: "Revelation"

*****

Pain.

Anguish. Grief. Sorrow. Heartache. Sadness. Misery.

Decimation.

As I lay in bed on this balmy Saturday night, all hunched over and curled up on my side, those horrible feelings listed above (and many more just like them) were swirling throughout me. A good two hours after Pamela had stormed out of my suite once she learned of the voyeur room and its existence, the words she had left me with were still ringing very loudly in my ears. Not only did Pamela demand that I never speak to her again, but she called me just about every nasty, derogatory name in the book because I had been eavesdropping on her and all of the other ladies since their arrival nearly three weeks ago. My secret was out, and most likely public news.

But the worst thing of all was that Pamela also insisted that I send her home - back to Maryland - at the absolute earliest opportunity. Pamela said that she was going to pack her belongings and expected to be on an airline flight back to the United States within 24 hours.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Those were her final words to me as she stomped off, down the hallway.

I was under the impression in recent times that Pamela and I had something extremely special together which had the real possibility of lasting for not only a lifetime, but all of eternity as well. Alas, it was not going to happen. Any chance that Pamela and I had at a bona-fide relationship was now squashed. And I had no one to blame except myself.

I had been sprawled across my bed here in my personal suite for the past two hours. My stomach was in a severe amount of discomfort because I had spent a large portion of those two hours crying my eyes out like an upset toddler. My stomach hurt so much that I was clutching it as I lay on my side. I believed that I was past the crying stage, but felt the same way ten minutes ago before another fit started.

Everything was ruined.

Pamela seemed to be the woman that I had been searching my entire life for. She was incredibly ladylike and witty, but also friendly, warm-hearted, caring and very loving. Pamela's awe-inspiring physical attributes and cover-girl face were an extra attraction for me - but certainly not the only reason why I found her so wondrously appealing. The way that Pamela looked was icing on top of an already delicious cake for me.

It also seemed - at least to me - that Pamela and I went together like bread and butter. Salt and pepper. Steak and a baked potato. I thought everything between us was absolutely perfect, and progressing to even greater heights with each passing day. But when the truth about the biggest secret I had held back from sharing with Pamela - the voyeur room - reared its ugly head, everything changed.

Pamela's impression of me now was that of a sick and demented pervert who got his rocks off by spying on unknowing women with the help of hidden video cameras. Really, I could not argue with that viewpoint. I had no defense. How could I possibly deny that what I had been doing for the past couple of weeks was not sick and demented?

In all likelihood, Pamela now looked at me in an even lesser light than the hundreds of thousands of nameless, faceless customers she had degraded herself to in a Baltimore area strip club for the past 11 years. Knowing how little she thought of the common patron at the strip club where she was employed, Pamela could very well think of and view me as a billion times worse than any of them now.

But the verbal firestorm and beat-down that Pamela brought forth upon me may have very well just been the beginning. It would not surprise me one bit if all of the other guests who Kristanna and I had brought here - Trish, Devon, Lindsay, Amy and Camille - knew about the voyeur room now as well. I could easily envision Pamela telling all of them about my nasty, little secret. Who could blame her if she chose to do just that? Was there a reason for her not to tell them?

Many of the things I just said about Pamela could easily pertain to Devon as well. How could I go wrong if I went the other way, and ultimately pursued a relationship with Devon? I could not go wrong with either because Pamela and Devon were both absolutely perfect, albeit in different ways.

But, any chance I had with Devon was most likely shattered now as well. I was certain Pamela had told her - as well as everyone else - about the voyeur room. All was ruined.

What about Trish? Trish and I had been getting along wonderfully as of late. She and I could hold a very long and insightful conversation, and seemed to be on the cusp of a true friendship. But Trish would surely not approve of me eavesdropping on her private moments and discussions with the others. How would Trish react if she knew that I liked to stroke my cock while secretly watching her masturbate with Mr. Happy - her treasured magic wand/vibrator? I think it is safe of me to assume that it would disgust her.

Lindsay? Amy? Camille? I could see it now. All six of the ladies were gathering the pitchforks from the garden shed outside, as well as any other weapon or sharp object they could find. Soon, they would burst through my door and, in a display of extreme (but justified) vengeance - shred me to within an inch of my life. If so, I would deserve it.

Like everything else in my life, I had failed.

I had found the ultimate woman - Pamela - who seemed intent on committing herself to the idea of a life-long relationship with me. In fact, I found two ultimate women. Devon was equally interested in me as well. But, just like everything else in my life, I had screwed it up. I flopped. I failed. I took what had been an ideal, dream scenario, and absolutely ruined it. Unfortunately, that seemed to be a recurring theme for me throughout my 39 years on this planet.

I was going to spend the rest of my life all alone - in total misery. Perhaps this was my true destiny after all. To be an outcast from society who never knows happiness...

-

Still lying in my suite (and feeling quite miserable), I was so startled that I twitched and sat up when I felt a presence on the mattress behind me. I quickly turned around to get a glimpse of who had paid me this surprise visit. It was Kristanna, who was cradling one of her beloved animals here on the island - Bow Wow Meow (a cat) - in her arms.

"Hi Jeremy," she greeted me, her voice quiet and sullen.

I tried to wipe away the excess of tears which had settled and dried on my face. Although I was not the type of man who considered himself to be above crying, I did not want for anyone - especially a woman - to see me in such a weak state of mind. On the other hand, of course, Kristanna had watched me cry a time or two in the past. So this was really nothing new to her. Still, I never felt comfortable when she saw me like this. "What are you doing here?" I asked her, upset.

Kristanna placed Bow Wow Meow upon my shoulder and said, "I brought you a little pussy to help cheer you up." When it was obvious that her attempt at humor was unsuccessful - I was not in the laughing mood - Kristanna grabbed the frisky feline and then set it down upon the floor. Bow Wow Meow slinked off toward its favorite corner as Kristanna looked at me and frowned. "I heard what happened, Jeremy."

Something did not seem right here. Although I could not pinpoint it just yet, I knew something was wrong. Different.

"Oh? What did you hear?"

Kristanna took a deep breath. "I was just talking to Pamela for the past half-hour. Actually ... she was screaming at me. Pamela is horribly upset. She is just as mad at me as she is at you because I knew all about the voyeur room, too. Pamela even accused me of being a co-conspirator with you." A tear streaming down her face, Kristanna reached out and touched my arm with her right hand. "You okay, Jeremy?"

Suddenly, I realized what seemed so out-of-place.

"What happened to your voice?" I asked, confused.

Kristanna hung her head low for a brief moment, then glanced back up at me and frowned in response. "I have wanted to tell you for the longest time, Jeremy, that I can speak perfect English. But you ... you like that wild accent I use so much. I always use it around you because you seem to enjoy it so much. But I speak perfect English. In my country, we are taught English at a very early age."

I was so shocked that I could not even say anything...

"I always use that accent when I meet someone new who does not speak my native language, Norwegian," she went on. "It is a way for me to get noticed, I guess. I met you four years ago, Jeremy, and you just ate my accent up. You have always told me that I sound so chippy and funny. So, I kept using it. But at the same time, as you became my close friend and someone who meant a great deal to me, I wanted you to know that I can speak perfect English, too. I ... I just never got around to it until now, I guess, because you seem to enjoy that accent so very much."

Kristanna paused and continued, "Right now seems like the perfect time to let you in on my little secret. I am not here now to make you laugh. I am here to be your friend."

Still stunned, I simply stared at Kristanna. Her accent was her defining quality to me. It always had been. But now, I learned, it was fake? Kristanna's accent was fake?

She pouted. "I hope you're not mad, Jeremy. Again, I have kept using it for so long because I know that you enjoy it so much. I hope you do not think of it as something sneaky or manipulative on my part. I have never asked you for anything. I have not gained anything, material wise, by disguising my voice for so long. Now ... I want to come clean about it. I only spoke that way because the accent made you laugh..."

"I'm not mad," I conceded. "Just a little surprised."

"I was talking to Pamela," Kristanna said, returning to her original topic. "She told me what happened. Pamela is, as I mentioned, horribly upset. She almost blew up when I told her that I knew all about the voyeur room, too. But I have a feeling, Jeremy. Give Pamela a little time and she will come to her senses, and realize that you do nothing wrong with the voyeur room. She was absolutely frantic; speculating that there are live feeds of all of the girls on the Internet. That you sell videos of them for profit. I told her that no one sees those videos except you and I." Kristanna shook her head and continued, "Pamela loves you, Jeremy. Once she settles down and regains her composure, I think that I will be able to have a peaceful discussion with her about the voyeur room. I will set her straight."

I chuckled in a bitter manner and shook my head at her. "If Pamela loves me, then why is our relationship over?"

"It's not over," Kristanna responded. "Pamela is angry right now, Jeremy. Mad. She just needs time to cool off."

"Of course it's over!" I exclaimed, the anger and rage slowly building within me. "I have a snowball's chance in HELL of EVER getting back with Pamela! Not only Pamela, but Devon too! Trish! Lindsay! Amy! Even Camille! By now, I'm certain that Pamela has told all of them about the voyeur room. They are all probably planning on what way to maim and disfigure me as we speak! I ruined everything, Kristanna!"

I fell over onto my side and buried my head in the pillow. Suddenly, I found it difficult to hold back a new batch of tears while saying, "What am I going to do, Krissy? I fi-finally find someone who seems to accept me for who I am, and I ruin it." A tear escaped from my right eye and dripped onto the pillow beneath me. "It really just m-makes me start to think that I'm never going to be happy in l-life. I will spend the rest of my days, all alone, on this island."

I hesitated, trying to compose myself, before going on, "All alone. Always alone, in isolation. I'll d-die here. No one will even d-discover my bo-body for six or eight months, if not longer. Maybe even YEARS." I did start to cry as I concluded, "My who-whole life ... it has been wasted up to this point. JUST WASTED!"

Kristanna sighed and shook her head at me. "Apparently, you made Pamela promise you something before escorting her to the voyeur room." Kristanna paused for a short moment, then added, "You made Pamela promise that she would not tell any of the others about what you were going to show her." My eyes went wide as Kristanna explained, "Pamela is horribly upset, yes, and not thinking straight. But she is coherent enough to have told me that she never, EVER breaks a promise." I groaned as Kristanna added, "Pamela WANTS to tell all of the others about the voyeur room, but refuses to go back on her promise to you. You lucked out there, Jeremy."

"But Pamela told you about the voyeur room," I countered. "She did not know that you knew about it beforehand."

"I demanded an answer out of her," Kristanna mused. "I could tell that something was wrong because she was so upset when I came across her in the hobby room. I already had a pretty good idea of what may be wrong, anyway. She told me that you had showed her the voyeur room. I told her that I knew all about it myself and thus, Pamela was angry with me, too. But when I learned of Pamela's promise, I reminded her of it two or three times. I reminded her that she cannot tell any of the others. Pamela is a very good, upstanding girl, Jeremy. No matter how mad she is at you and me, she will not tell the others. I have faith that she won't."

Suddenly, I felt a certain sense of relief. At least a tiny portion of relief. Trish, Devon, Lindsay, Amy and Camille were not plotting my demise at this moment in time. I could take a deep breath and rest a bit easier with that knowledge. But, there was still plenty for me to be upset about. Any chance that I had with Pamela was long gone...

"I ... I'm going to die here, Kristanna. I'm going to die on this island. I will die the very same way that I have spent the vast majority of my life - alone. All alone. No one will ever c-care about me. I w-will never have th-the opportunity to be a hu-husband ... a f-f-fa-father. I will ... I will just waste away here, into absolute nothingness." I growled and ended, "I ... I think I already have."

"Have what?"

"Wasted away into absolute nothingness. I'm a nobody. I feel ... I feel that I have ... so much ... to give ... someone. But th-the reality ... the r-reality ... is I ... have nothing. I AM nothing. I will die here, all alone, on this island."

Kristanna tilted her head to the side and looked at me for several seconds, then reached out and placed her hand atop my shoulder. She trailed it downward, momentarily massaging and caressing my back. "You choose to live here all by your lonesome, Jeremy. How many times have I asked you to move to Norway with me? How many times have I asked you to just VISIT Norway for awhile, and see what it is like?" Kristanna appeared quite agitated. "No one is forcing you to be live on this island. It's your choice."

"It's been 20 years," Kristanna went on. "It has been 20 years since Victoria left you at the altar for that other girl, Jeremy. When are you FINALLY going to stand up for yourself, and release the clamp that Victoria has on you? You have not even seen or spoken to her in 20 years. It is OVER. NOTHING can change what happened that day. NOTHING! If you cannot change it, then why worry about it?"

"You don't understand how humiliating that was for me."

"Maybe not," Kristanna nodded. "But do you remember when your brother and sister from Ohio paid you that surprise visit last year? I was visiting you then, too. Remember? They brought all the kids with them, too."

"Yeah," I answered. "You told Dan and Di that you were my girlfriend. That was ... interesting."

"Your brother and sister tried to convince you to leave this island, too," Kristanna recalled. "They tried to get you to move back to Ohio with them. To re-enter the world and become an actual human being again. You told them... no. Do you remember what your reason was?"

When I did not answer, Kristanna did it for me by saying, "Because seeing them reminded you of Victoria. Seeing anyone who was at your wedding reminds you of Victoria, and the humiliation that you endured. Even your own family. You have shut them out completely. That is WRONG."

Kristanna shook her head. "You became an Internet tycoon 19 years ago when it was still in its infancy. You built up this huge fortune and then sold everything off 17 years ago. With all that money in your pocket, Jeremy, you buy a private island in the South Pacific and go away there to hide from the rest of civilization. By that time, you told me, Victoria had met a new man and was already married to him. She was not tormenting you, or poking fun at you because of what happened in the past. She was not doing anything."

"You have so much to give someone, Jeremy. I am not talking about money, either. Not at all. Look at Pamela. Despite what just happened earlier, she worships the ground that you walk on because you are the most amazing man she has ever met in her whole life. I could say the same thing about Devon, too ... Devvy. She is crazy about you. But give Pamela a little time. Eventually, she will get over being angry and come to her senses. Then, I will explain to her that the voyeur room is nothing but a harmless fascination for you. I will make Pamela understand. Trust me on that."

"How can Pamela worship the ground that I walk on, as you say, if she doesn't want to be with me anymore?"

"Give her time," Kristanna reiterated. "Jeremy, YOU are not thinking logically, either. Pamela is a smart girl. She is not going to let one imperfection about you ruin her image of you as a whole person. Give her time to cool down. I think that I will try talking to her again in the morning."

"It will never work, Kristanna," I groaned. "Even if Pamela and I got back together - which we won't, but even if we do - I would screw it up somehow. I always do." I shook my head and ended, "I've been a failure my whole life. I am the definition of a total failure..."

Kristanna narrowed her eyes at me and asked, "Have you been taking your medication lately?"

"YES, I HAVE!" I sniped in response.

"I didn't mean to make you angry..."

"If I can't get Pamela to want to be with me ... then I'll never be happy," I told her. "Pamela is perfect for me. I think I am perfect for her. If I cannot get her to like me, then WHO CAN I get? Devon? Eventually, if I choose to go after a relationship with Devon, she would have to learn about the voyeur room and its existence, too. Devon would HATE ME, Kristanna. She would HATE ME!"

I shook my head and fretted, "Just what I said earlier - I will spend the rest of my life on this Godforsaken island, and die here. Who in their right mind would love me anyway? Maybe that is the thing, Kristanna. Pamela discovered what type of person I am. Even if she never knew about the voyeur room, Pamela would have still discovered what type of person I am. It is my destiny to be alone in life!"

"What type of person are you?"

"The type who has been to dozens of psychiatrists over the past 20 years. The type who has spent a cumulative of four months in nine different mental hospitals. And the type who is jacked up to his eyeballs on anti-depressants. All because of what Victoria did to me 20 years ago!" My body actually began to tremble and vibrate from all of the negative energy. "Who wants to be with someone like me? Pamela would have realized all of this eventually. So would Devon ... and anyone else, for that matter."

"Pamela and Devvy would both love you regardless of whatever problems you have, or THINK you have," Kristanna insisted. "God, Jeremy! Get a grip of yourself. Use some logic here. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself!"

"Devon? Devon would want nothing to do with me once she learns of all the problems that I have. Because of her own problems - the drug incident from high school and the fact that her parents have somehow shut her out of their lives completely - she needs someone with minimal baggage in life."