The Landlady Ending The old lady went brought the teacup back to her mouth to take another

sip, but Billy could still feel her cold eyes staring straight through his head. They were ice cold lasers burning into his brain. Billy quietly questioned the landladys sanity. What had she meant by saying that Mr. Mulholland, and Mr. Temple were still here? Later, she had only contradicted her self by saying it was only him. After a long period of silence, and much thought by Billy, the landlady spoke. My dear, you are not looking so well. Shall we go up to your room? It was true; Billy was not feeling so well. Little lights danced around in his head, and he felt hot on the inside, but his cheeks felt cold. That would be great he spoke finally. When he tried to stand, his legs felt wobbly, like trying to walk on noodles. He chuckled softly. This reminded him of the school he had gone to; his legs had last felt like this when they had run the track. One eye told him that he was leaving the tearoom and heading toward the staircase, the old lady close behind. A blazing pain on the left side of his head made him stumble but the stair rail cushioned his fall. Black and red danced before his inner eye and when he opened them again, all he saw was wood. Step after step, stair after stair. Where was he? He turned around and saw two blurry old ladies pushing him up, holding and even supporting him. They were breathing hard. He laughed again. This was funny. Never in his life would he have pictured this happening. He felt a hot substance travel up his throat, and all over the front of his shirt. He felt his body spasm, all the lightning and adrenaline in his body keeping him alive left him, and down he fell into blackness. He could hear everything, but couldnt move. His eyes wouldnt open, and his arms wouldnt move. He heard panting and heavy breathing. Nothing around him would stay still. Was he sliding on something? Somewhere, in his deep, deep consciousness he realized he was being dragged. Dragged up. He didnt know how long it went on but eventually everything was still. When his adrenaline left, his will to live certainly didnt. Somehow, he opened one eye, but very weekly. All he saw were red, human shaped balloons. * * * * * Many years later, a young handyman lingered outside the quaint bed and breakfast. He looked at the scrap of paper in his hand, looked and the inn, and back at the paper again. He had found the address. It was really a cute house. It was warm and inviting, and the fire in the living room looked splendid. The flowers on the outside were nice, and he could tell the bed and breakfast had been very pretty once, but age had taken its toll. He went to his truck to get the toolbox, and slowly tromped up the steps to the front door. He rang the doorbell, and he could hear a ringing sound fill the house. He must have been so focused on the sound, that he didnt even notice the old lady standing where the door had been. She looked him over, from scruffy brown hair to

the tip of his old boots. When her eyes had traveled down and back up to his face, she greeted him with a smile. Hello my dear, are you looking for a room? I have the perfect one! The handyman was about to tell her that he didnt need one, in fact he was here to fix the heater, when she spoke again. I was worried I wouldnt see you. This last line caught him off guard, and now he didnt know what to say. If she was expecting him to fix the heater, then why had she offered him a room? What is your name? Youre a bit quiet arent you? The handy man found his voice. My names Timothy, but you can call me Tim. Tiffany my dear, come inside. You look cold The house looked very inviting, so he followed the ladys hand motions, and entered the house. My names Timothy, and Im ere to fix your heater. He annunciated his name very slowly in hopes she would get it right. Of course my dear, Im so sorry. You look young to be a mechanic. How old are you? Im only 18 The lady lifted the corners of her mouth into a saccharine smile. Perfect like a warm cup of tea she purred. That is almost the age of Mr. Mr. Wilkins. No Mr. Weaver. She corrected her self with a sigh You look a lot like him she dazed off into the space behind his left ear. Tim found the old lady to be slightly nuts, but maybe it was just the old age. He examined the empty, painted expression on her face and realized she was deep in thought. Eventually she snapped back to reality. That reminds me dear, would you like some tea? At lower doses, loss of consciousness may be preceded by general weakness, giddiness, headaches, vertigo, confusion, and perceived difficulty in breathing. If cyanide is inhaled it causes a coma with seizures, apnea, and cardiac arrest, with death following in a matter of minutes. At the first stages of unconsciousness, breathing is often sufficient or even rapid, although the state of the victim progresses towards a deep coma, sometimes accompanied by pulmonary edema, and finally cardiac arrest. A cherry red skin color may be present as the result of increased venous hemoglobin oxygen saturation.