Desperate Infatuation
Do you ever get the feeling someone is watching you; it’s a chilling feeling. I left work late and locked the door behind me. I head to the elevator. I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up, which is the eeriest prickling feeling I can’t explain. I turn around, hoping to see what makes my neck hair stand on its ends; I don’t see anyone. I say to myself, calm down; it’s only your crazy mind again. I am thinking ridiculous thoughts. I get into my car and start driving home, and that odd feeling lingers.
Nervous and hesitant, I want to look into the rearview mirror. Before I turn my eyes to the mirror, I whisper aloud, “Please, no one looks back at me.”
I look in the mirror and catch a glance at a young woman. I gasped, and she was gone. Was she even there? I shake my head, “Oh, stop, there isn’t anyone in your backseat.” This imagination of mine is what lives in the shadows of Stephen King’s thoughts, I am sure of it. I am also confident that I am not looking in that mirror again.
I start to drive like Mario Andretti. Cops be damned! This young woman in my rearview mirror has piqued my interest and started my mind stirring. Crazy thoughts fill my head. Stop! Stop! Don’t go there — damn. Yet, like a sponge, I soak up my wild ideas.
Years ago, I had a friend, or so I thought she was, who had passed away. We were friends until I discovered she was spreading lies about me that could ruin my reputation. The lies upset me; they pissed me off. Why would she do this? Did she not like me? Was she jealous of me? I couldn’t continue guessing and walking on eggshells, and I confronted her. This confrontation ended badly. I honestly thought she was jealous of my other friends, as she seemed only to want me. I chose to end my friendship with her and move on.
I remember the night her mother called me. She thought Lilly and I were still friends. She believed we were best friends, hung out daily, and had some sisterhood between us.
“Maryann, I am sorry to call you so late,” sobs came through the phone.
“Lilly…” deep heartbroken weeps, “Lilly is dead.” The worst part of this call is that I don’t have any feelings about her death.
Lilly’s mother continued, “She left a note for you. Would you like me to read it to you?”
I swallowed hard. My throat constricted beyond the point of ache. I hesitantly answered, “Yes, I would like that.” Lilly’s mother continued, “Dear MaryAnn, as you are reading this, I am dead. I am writing to you because I thought that we were friends, sisters. I never liked your other friends and just wanted you to myself. I told untruths to get your friends out of the way.” Lilly’s note continued, “I couldn’t live without knowing you would never be mine.”
Lilly’s mother paused and said, “I didn’t know, I didn’t know this, Maryann; I’m so sorry.”
“Please keep reading.”
Lilly’s mother continued reading, “I thought I would be the center of your world as you are the center of mine. It wasn’t going to happen. Life is not worth living without you standing at my side. This relentlessly driven anger begged me to take the last breath from each of your friends. I knew that would hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you. I am easing my pain — I know you won’t care. You never did love me.”
I felt overwhelmed with guilt. I couldn’t form my thoughts into words. I could barely release my breath from my mouth. I whispered a nearly silent thank you and hung up. I sat on the sofa and looked at my reflection on the tv. Lilly was there, behind me. When I turned to her — she was gone. I must splash cold water on my face or have a stiff drink. Maybe both.
The phone rang. I answered, “Hi.”
“Maryann,” Jenny’s voice shook, “Sara… Sara is dead.” Her sobs were deep and painful to hear. “She was found in her bathtub soaking in water and blood. She killed herself.”
I saw the familiar reflection in the kitchen window from the corner of my eye. This time it wore a sinister smile. I ran to the window to look at her better, “Lilly? Lilly, is that you?” She was gone. My delinquent imagination is out of control.
Oh my god!! What is going on here?!! This madness has to stop! I’m carefree and easygoing; I’m not mean or paranoid. I am not this unsure of myself. For crying out loud, why is this happening?
It has to stop!
While brushing my hair, I see the reflection peering at me again, but two shadows are there this time. They are very creepy — one with a devilish look and the other’s face twisted and unrecognizable. I throw my brush at the mirror and run out of the bathroom. I was screaming back at them to stop.
I pull myself together and realize the only thing I can do is get on the phone and call a therapist.
I picked up the house phone, and there was no dial tone, just white noise. I grab my cell, and there is no service. The house phone rang. I slowly put the headset to my ear, “Hello?”
Through the white noise, a hiss of a distant voice answered, “Maryann, she won’t let me go. Lilly…”
Lilly’s voice is more robust and more evident than the other, “I will take all of them from you if you don’t join me.”
“Lilly, you wrote that you didn’t want to take them, that you didn’t want to hurt me.”
I could hear Sara crying, painstakingly and weakly, in the background. Deafening white noise and then silence.
I hung the headset up. A jolt of unfamiliar torment ran through my body. Dark, sinister, and life draining. I feel lightheaded. I grab my coat and head out the door. I’m not a religious person; I toss all of that religious bullshit aside. It’s all history that someone wrote on a scroll. If you want to believe and follow it. My semi-atheist spirit tells me I need to talk to a priest.
Maybe he can offer some insight into what is going on. Is it that I can be very quick to be dismissive? That I can turn my head quickly and forget everyone that has wronged me? I think an exorcism is in order. Right? I tell myself that I don’t know. Off I go in pursuit, hopefully finding answers.
I look up into that damned review mirror. Lilly’s reflection is no longer behind me. Her essence looks like a veil covering my face; her sinister smirk covers my mouth. Her deep dark eyes absorbed the hazel from my pupils. The chill of her spirit freezes me from the inside out. My throat closes. I pull to the side of the road. With her sinister plan at work, I drop from my car to the muddy ground. I close my eyes and feel my heart slowing. I hear Lilly’s voice echo through the intrusive darkness behind my eyelids.
Her raspy voice attempts to comfort me, “You, my darling friend, are fortunate. You will have me, and I will have you. We will be one. A union of life and death. You are mine and forever will be.”
Not being released from her determined hold, I feel numbness swell in my veins, nothingness in my chest, and my heartbeats fade to silence. Forever a captive of death and prisoner of desperate infatuation.
THE END
Maryann Lindquist & Mojha MacDowell
