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Immortal Heart

Monster

ROMIE


Once a year, young children get to dress up as their favorite princess or superhero, and roam the neighborhood in search of candy. The adults have their fun too, getting drunk off their asses as they hop from bar to bar. The teenagers, who are too old to get candy, but too young to legally drink, host parties that everyone in their class is dying to get into. On this night, the ghosts, goblins, and ghouls come out to play, blending in among the sea of masks. The vampires feed, the werewolves howl at the moon, the zombies feast on flesh, and every other monster rises from the shadows to scare. Halloween is a holiday favored by many, celebrated in full with excessive decorations, and cheap sound effects. Everyone remembers the date because of the holiday, yet no one seems to remember that on this date, twenty-two years ago, I was born.

Every year seems to be just as bad, if not worse than, the year before. My mom never tried to do anything special for me, so I grew up believing that my birthday wasn’t important. Last year, she sent a text with only those two words. Happy birthday, that was it. This year, I’ve received nothing from her. My roommate, Taylor, taped a note to the fridge for me to see before I left for work, telling me that she was going out tonight and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Not like I particularly cared, but she wished me a happy birthday, complete with a sideways smiley face. That was the nicest thing she’s ever done for me. Come to think of it, it’s the only thing she’s ever done for me.

Work tonight was much busier than usual, as expected. I’ve actually never seen the bar so crowded that there were no available seats, but the customers that arrived after all the bar stools and chairs were taken didn’t mind. Most of them stood or leaned against the walls, drinking their beverage of choice and having a good time. It was nice to see everyone enjoying their night, and even though I wasn’t feeling festive, I wore the party beads and the costume and I faked my way through it. No matter how uncomfortable it made me.

As time ticked by and it got later and later, the activity in the bar slowed down. The younger crowd from earlier in the evening had long since been gone and all that remained now were middle-aged men and women who were either seeking the company of anyone desperate enough to go home with them or drowning their sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. I’ve truly never understood the point of drinking away the pain or the satisfaction people seem to have when they can’t remember what brought them here to begin with. There’s no point in getting that drunk, in my opinion, when they’ll have to face the exact issues that drove them to that point after they sober up.

When Owen, the bar owner, announced last call, only one person approached the bar looking for one more round of whiskey on the rocks. Everyone else began gathering their things, getting ready to head home to wallow in their shame and eventually pass out, only to wake up past noon with a hangover that seems to be worse than the last. I watched them leave, one after the other and my eyes diverted to the time on my watch. It was close to two o’clock, which meant it was close to closing time.

Those last twenty minutes dragged on for what seemed like forever, but finally, it was two o'clock. I hurried to the break room to punch out my time card and grab my things. I dug my cell phone out of my purse to see I had a text from Taylor. By the number of typos and the way she strung her words together, I could easily tell she was drunk when she sent it, so I didn’t bother replying. I shoved my phone back in my purse and walked out through the employee exit.

Most other nights, I’m accompanied on my walk home by one of my coworkers, Shane, as he doesn’t like me walking home alone in the middle of the night – no matter how short of a journey it is. He had the night off though, and it made the walk home more lonely. I was forced to wear a costume for work though, being Halloween night, and I was glad that Shane wasn’t there to witness the humiliation of me in it. It was supposed to be a sexy officer and the costume itself was navy blue. It consisted of a pleated mini skirt with a wide belt that I could not bend over in, a tight and revealing cropped top with a fake pocket on the left breast that was labeled with the word police, and a pair of plastic handcuffs that hung off of the belt. Owen provided the costume itself, but I was told that anything bought to accessorize would be out of my own pocket and, of course, needed to be approved of. I had a pair of black tights and flats of the same color that I was going to wear, but Owen refused to let me wear anything that wasn’t what he deemed sexy. So I bought a pair of fishnet stockings and the cheapest pair of black high heels that I could find on such short notice. They were six inches high, per my boss’s demand, and terrifying to walk in.

I don’t know how Shane would react to seeing me in the sleazy getup, but I missed the company. It was also colder than I expected it to be, and I was freezing. The wind nipped at my face, causing my nose to burn and my eyes to water a little. I’ve lived in New York my entire life and I’ve never been able to become acclimated to the cold weather.

Living so close to the bar is both a blessing and a curse. My normal shift starts at seven o’clock in the evening, and it’s a fifteen-minute walk from the apartment. On the days I don’t have to work my second job, I tend to sleep until one or two o’clock in the afternoon because Taylor’s friends come and go at any hour of the day – or night – like they live there with us, and they aren’t sympathetic to the girl in the back bedroom who works two jobs to cover both halves of the rent. When I do work my second job, it’s an hour away in the city and most times it’s early in the morning. Taylor and her friends are usually passed out all over the apartment when I leave; in her bed, on the couch, in the recliner, and on the floors. The days I work both jobs, I like to come home to shower and eat in the short forty-five minutes I have before I have to be at the bar, but I always check to see if Taylor is there. If she is, I try to avoid it because she’s often occupied with something she shouldn’t be doing at eighteen years old.

When I get home from the bar, most times it’s around two-thirty in the morning, Taylor and her friends are wide awake and extremely loud, and I’m too exhausted to say anything. Not like they listen anyway, I’ve tried more times than I should’ve had to. Her friends never really say anything to me directly, except for the occasional alcoholic begging me to bring them booze from the bar, offering me whatever they have as payment. I’m not interested in anything they have. Chances are, I’ve already had it and have long since grown out of that phase.

The fifteen minutes between the bar and the apartment seemed much longer than usual, and by the time I reach our door, my fingertips were numb from the cold that I know is only going to get worse in the upcoming weeks. I didn’t hear the obnoxious laughter or the thumping bass that I typically do when I come home at this hour, but I wasn’t complaining. Taylor did say she wouldn’t be home tonight, but I assumed she’d have someone crashing on our couch. The thought of having the entire apartment to myself for a night caused the corners of my mouth to tug upward into a slight smile, but that smile quickly vanished at the sight of three random people, Taylor’s friends I’m assuming, in our living room when I opened the door.

I sighed heavily, more annoyed than I had been all day. I didn’t bother locking the door behind me when I shut it. I figured if there were already three, there would be more in the next few hours. The three people on the couch, two guys and a girl, didn’t pay me the slightest bit of attention until I walked past them. The girl and one of the guys were very obviously together, as she was straddled on the guy’s lap with her tongue down his throat. The other guy’s face had been buried in the flat screen across from them until that moment, and I glanced at the TV just in time to see a younger-looking blonde taking off her top to reveal a set of breasts that were most definitely paid for. Disgusting. One of the guys, the one with the girl on his lap, pushed his girlfriend away and reached for the remote when he noticed the look on my face, then quickly turned off the video.

“Sorry, Officer, please don’t arrest us,” the other guy pleaded, throwing his hands up in the air. The girl laughed way too hard at that, and the guy who wasn’t pinned down stood up, stumbling as he did so. He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t want to hear whatever he was going to say, so I turned away and walked to my room.

I dropped my purse on the floor beside my bed and kicked off my shoes, then pulled my hair tie out to let my hair down. When I left for work this evening, my dark hair was straightened, but the sweat that had accumulated on my body throughout the night added a slight wave to it. I smelled horrible but was too tired to shower just then, so I changed from my dirty costume into a pair of clean pajama shorts and a baggy t-shirt. My stomach rumbled rather loudly, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t eaten since four o’clock the previous afternoon, so I decided to heat up some leftover lo mein.

I ignored the porn that had been resumed on the TV and the threesome watched me as I worked in the kitchen. One minute left on the microwave. “Hey! Your name is Rome, right?” the girl asked, smiling brightly at me. She reminded me a lot of Taylor. She was young and seemed way too eager to do things that she has her whole life for. I thought about ignoring her, but I didn’t have the energy to defend myself if she or one of the two guys got aggravated and belligerent.

“Close, it’s Romie,” I replied with no emotion in my voice.

“That’s hot,” guy number two said. He wasn’t unattractive, just not my type. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the microwave. Thirty seconds. I opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water and when I turned around, the guy was leaning against the counter.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he stated, extending his arm for a handshake, “I’m Gabe.” I glanced at the microwave, which read ten seconds, and against my better judgment, I shook Gabe’s hand. He was at least a head taller than me, and his monstrous build was twice the size of my petite frame. I smiled a little in an attempt to hide my anxiety, but he saw right through it. “Don’t be nervous, sweetheart, I don’t bite,” he grinned. The microwave beeped loudly, and I hurried to open the door and grab my plate so I could retreat to my bedroom. Gabe quickly stepped in front of me, blocking my way. “Come eat with us,” he coaxed as if he knew where I was heading. I didn’t want to be around three people I’ve never met, but I was genuinely afraid to say no, so I nodded and followed him into the living room.

I stood in front of the recliner, my preferred seat, but Gabe grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the couch. He patted his legs and said, “Make yourself comfortable, sweetheart.” The use of that word from his mouth was nerve-wracking. I hesitantly lowered myself onto his lap, where I sat up straight, my entire body stiff. The plate of food in front of me no longer looked appetizing, and I felt nauseous. I set the plate on the end table and rested my hands on my knees.

“You look tense,” the other guy in the room said in a tone that I’m sure was meant to be soothing. It wasn’t. “I’m Trevor and this is Halle,” he introduced himself and the girl on his lap. I gave a halfhearted smile and looked down at the floor, taking notice of how dirty the carpet was. The TV was still set to whatever porn flick was on, but Trevor had it muted. How gentlemanly of him. Gabe groaned and shifted a little, and I immediately froze.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he cooed, and I could feel his hands on my hips, pulling me back slightly. I slowly leaned back until his broad chest was touching my back. He kept his left hand on my hip, but raised his right hand to my head and moved my hair to the side. “You are so sexy,” he whispered in my ear. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and it wasn’t appealing. Trevor nodded slightly at Halle and the two stood up.

“We’re going to head out to grab some beer,” Trevor announced. All the liquor stores in town have been closed for hours, so I knew that was a blatant lie. Trevor directed Halle to the door, then looked back and said, “We won’t be gone long,” with a sickeningly sweet smile that was as fake as the breasts on the blonde in the film. I watched as they left, and some words were exchanged, but I couldn’t make them out. The fast beating of my heart was all I could focus on. When the door shut, Gabe sighed in content.

“Sit beside me, sweetheart,” he said, guiding me off of his lap and onto the leather cushion. I kept my eyes glued to the TV, trying to ignore how the man in the film was having his way with the young blonde who got paid to act pleased. Gabe draped his right arm over my shoulders and I could feel the couch shift as he moved closer to me. We sat in silence for a few minutes before he shifted again. “Damn, these jeans are getting uncomfortable,” he spoke as he removed his arm from around me. From the corner of my eye, I could see him reaching for the zipper on his jeans and I knew that we had reached the point of no return. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his upper thigh, and I finally looked at him. He had an all-too-familiar glare in his eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to fight him off, no matter how hard I tried. He licked his lips, then leaned in and kissed me, hard. The remnants of beer on his lips made my face twist up in disgust. Pulling away, he said, “What, you don’t like that?” I shook my head, unable to speak. He stood up in front of me and yanked his pants down, revealing the reason he was getting uncomfortable. He was bigger than I expected, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to take it all. “Maybe you’ll like this better,” he said as he put himself in my mouth. He held my head still as he forcefully pushed it deep into my mouth, thrusting his hips. I was now crying, looking up at him with fear. Moaning quietly, he had his eyes closed. Maybe it was to avoid looking at my face, which was flushed and stained with tears.

I could tell he was getting close, but he suddenly stopped and I knew what came next. “Take them off and bend over,” he demanded, pointing to my shorts. I obeyed because I didn’t have a choice. He’s built much bigger than the others, but they’re all the same monster and the fear that raced through me was not much different from before. I was bent over the couch, back arched. “Good girl.” Gabe wrapped my hair around his left hand and yanked my head back as he forced himself inside me, keeping his right hand on my hip. His size made it difficult for him to easily achieve his goal, but he grunted and groaned, enjoying what he was doing. I was in pain, a lot of it and I cried silently, afraid of what he would do if I sobbed. I could tell when he was getting closer, but when he did, he would slow down and take his time for a while. He did this many times, slowing down and speeding up with no warning as to when he would do either. “Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed, slowing down once again. When he sped up, he kept the pace and as he panted and moaned, he held my hair tighter. It felt like he was ripping it from my skull. His breaths were closer together, and he was moaning louder until he finally finished inside me. He stayed inside me for another minute or so, then he pulled out of me. I could feel the warm liquid dripping out of me as my insides throbbed, but I didn’t move because I didn’t know his next move. I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst when I heard him zip up his jeans. I then heard footsteps, walking away from me. The door to the apartment creaked open, then slammed shut.

I was in an extreme amount of pain, but I straightened myself out and ran to lock the door, just in case he decided to come back. It was then that I collapsed onto the floor. I hugged my weak knees to my chest and cried silently for a while before I found the strength to get up and go into my room. I didn’t call the cops because it would be his word, and the words of Trevor and Halle, against mine and there were some things that could be misinterpreted as evidence of his story. The porn they were watching was bought and would show up on the cable bill. He could twist that many different ways to make it seem like I wanted it. I know how the legal system works, and no one ever believed me before. Why would they start now? If I said anything to anyone, I’d be a liar, and I’m already the girl who cried wolf. No need to add to my title.

My stomach tightened and I hurried to the bathroom, unfortunately, not fast enough. I had dry heaves as I hadn’t eaten anything, so what came up was only bile. It burned my throat more than any alcohol ever could. I finished with more dry heaves and cleaned up the stomach acid on the floor before I undressed to climb into the shower, where I sat for a while letting the water fall onto my lower back. My mind was racing, thoughts of suicide swirling around in my brain, causing a dull thumping in my temples. The pain in my head gradually increased and that was my breaking point. I stepped out, still naked with beads of water dripping from my skin, and grabbed the scissors I keep in the drawer under the sink. I proceeded to cut apart one of my disposable razors, pulling the five blades from the plastic that secured them. I picked the middle blade, holding the thin piece of steel in my hand as I sat back down in the bathtub.

I plugged the drain and turned the faucet back on, thinking long and hard about what I was about to do. I only wanted relief. To feel the endorphins flood my brain and my body, leaving me in a state of temporary bliss. I ran the hottest water that could be produced by this bathroom until it had risen up past my knees, then I turned it off. Holding the blade to my left wrist, I cleared my mind of any and all thought aside from what was to come next. Not looking for any particular spot, I pressed the razor into my skin and dragged it across my wrist. The beading of the dark crimson and the immediate calming sensation that rushed through me, from head to toe, made me smile. I thought about how long it’s been since I last harmed myself and how long I had been able to fight my battles without resorting to this method, and I started to feel sick again. I looked down at my wrist, a wave of shame surging through me. I couldn’t believe that after almost two years of keeping myself away from negative influences and addictive behavior, I had relapsed. I had gone back to the very thing that I had sworn off after a near-death experience because I had let another man take advantage of me.

With that thought, I gripped the razor tighter and dug it into my skin in a downward motion, deeper this time. The deeper I forced the blade, the more it hurt and the more it bled, but I had reached the point of no return. I’ve never given up on anything and I wasn’t going to start now. Blood was slowly trickling out of the cut, down my arm and into the water, turning it a slight shade of pink. Having such a low pain tolerance, I wasn’t surprised that tears started to fall from my eyes. It hurt. I inhaled deeply and as I exhaled slowly, I dug the razor in as deep as I could. My entire body tensed up at the pain, but I continued, and my arm seemed to be going numb. I was bleeding more than I ever had in the past, and I started getting a little lightheaded. Just a little more.

Blood was now gushing from my arm and as I let myself relax, the razor slipped from my fingertips. I was weak and my breaths were almost nonexistent. The water around me was becoming darker and my vision began to blur. I felt nothing as I closed my eyes, and it was the happiest I had been in a very long time. All I saw was darkness as I lost consciousness.

And
then
everything
was
on
fire.

Notes

This is something I've been working on here lately. Despite it's dark nature, I hope everyone enjoys it.

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