Eternal (2)

Hating herself for her fears and for needing someone, anyone, she found herself outside Brad’s apartment building. Yet, she could not make herself unlock the car door and enter the dark stairwell that led to his second story apartment. She was trembling, and she knew the neighbors would think her crazy, but she laid on the car horn anyway. A few people peered out through their curtains and one old man even came to his door to see what all the noise was about. Finally, she saw Brad’s door open. He poked his head out and was embarrassed to find out that the loud honking noise was solely for his benefit. Mirra motioned for him to come down, but Brad shut the door.1

This time, fear was not the only emotion she felt. How could he just shut the door on her? He had seen her! She knew he had. Wounded anger welled up within her and she cursed herself for even thinking of coming to him in the first place. Yet, she stayed where she was. She couldn’t face the thought of going home to an empty house… or worse – a not so empty house with that eerie man in it.2

She realized that she meant nothing to Brad. Hell, she couldn’t even count on him just to open his door to her, let alone give her some sort of comfort. Why did she even bother? She knew why. She was a loner by nature, but she couldn’t stand being alone. In all her life there was but one person who she had let in through her self made wall that shielded her emotions and her name was Jamie. Jamie was her best friend, the other half of her soul, the only person on earth who could begin to understand her. Never had Mirra allowed a man to penetrate the fortress that surrounded her. And for that matter, as far as Mirra could see, no man ever would. No man she had ever met was worth it. All men were good for was money and a few minutes between the sheets. Anger rose again. Hell, Brad wasn’t even good in bed, so why had she come to him? He was available. But he wasn’t, not really, not when she had needed him. 3

Something caught Mirra’s eye and she looked up. Brad! He was coming for her! Then she realized why he hadn’t come right down. The bastard was probably naked, she thought. Although the night had a chill to it, he was coming down the steps barefooted and wearing only a pair of running shorts. She got out of the car as he approached and was thinking to herself, he’s not so bad. He really does care about me.4

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed at her, “You woke up the entire fucking building! Do you have any idea what time it is? If the super finds out about this, you’re liable to get me kicked out of here, you stupid bitch!”5

The smile fell from Mirra’s face, and she had no words to say. It was this constant belittling that kept her from thinking she could do anything. Earlier, when Brad had demanded a reason for her wanting them to spend time apart, there was no way for her to describe the way he treated her because it was all little stuff. It was the little comments, the cutting edge in his voice, the yelling, the griping, the constant barrage of “I am superior to you” subtleties masked behind every little bitch that made her feel like shit. She didn’t know if he did it on purpose of if he was even aware of it because when she tried to point things out to him, he denied them and pretended as if they didn’t exist. 6

“Well, what the fuck do you want?” Brad noticed Mirra’s eyes were glittering under the yard lamps, a glittering that meant tears were on the way, and if he needed another sign, her lips had taken on that pouty look. “Come on up,” he said, “before anyone knows it’s my old lady out here raising the dead.” He tried to soften his words, “It’s colder than a witch’s titty in a brass bra out here.” He turned without looking at her and started up the stairs. Mirra followed like a whipped puppy.7

Once inside, Mirra realized that she couldn’t confide in him. She still didn’t know what had possessed her to run to him. He would laugh at her fears and belittle her again. She wouldn’t let that happen. She made up some story about a man following her out of the bar and scaring her that seemed to satisfy his curiosity.8

“I told you I didn’t like you going to those bars by yourself didn’t I?” he said. “You could’ve gotten yourself raped or even killed by those crazy drunks. From now on, I don’t want you even going near those places again.” His self-righteous tone was really a smirk in disguise. He had been right again. Score another one for good old Brad. 9

Mirra just nodded her head and let him think he could declare martial law over her coming and goings. She finally realized Brad was a domineering control freak. He demanded her complete attention like a selfish child. He had no ambition in life other than making her subservient to him, but it wasn’t in Mirra’s nature to be subservient to any man. She vowed that tonight was the last time she would ever see him. She didn’t need him or anybody and it was past time for her to prove it to herself.10

“Come on, babe, let’s hit the hay. Some of us have got to get up and go to work in the morning,” Brad shot her that smile of his that said, you woke me up in the middle of the night, and now I’m going to get my reward. Mirra took his outstretched hand and followed him into the bedroom while consoling herself with the fact that this would be the last time she would ever have to fake an orgasm for this man. After all, she did owe him that much at least. He had given her the place to calm down and alleviate her fears, and in his own way, he had tried to help.11

Brad fell asleep within five minutes after the earth shattering three minute sex session. Mirra smiled. The boy never could hold out, let alone if she started to enjoy it a little and move and moan under him. She got out of bed, dressed, and grabbed a Coke out of the fridge. 12

The clock on the VCR blinked its endless 12:00…12:00…12:00… She looked at the wall clock behind her. It read 1:50. Mirra sat down on the second hand couch, lit a cigarette, sipped her drink, and wondered just what in the hell she was going to do with her life. She realized she'd rather be anywhere but here, playing Brad's whore so she grabbed her keys and left.13

As the headlights illuminated her drive, Mirra felt the beginnings of apprehension. The house, usually her sanctuary, looked dark and foreboding. With a conscious effort, she swept her fears aside, stepped out of the car resolutely, and fumbled for the door key.14

She flipped on the overhead light and the room basked in its warm glow, but her comfortably worn furnishings did not seem as inviting as they should, and the silence was deafening. Mirra grabbed the remote from her yard sale coffee table and switched on the television. Heavy metal music poured out and she thought, thank God for MTV.15

Mirra systematically went through the house room by room, switching on every light she came to. Everything was as it should be, and as she entered the last room on her rounds, her bedroom, her earlier feeling of apprehension had almost left her. But just as she turned on the light, she knew something was wrong here. She had a feeling that the room had just been vacated by the grinning specter that had visited her earlier. 16

Nothing in the room had changed; her clothes from earlier in the day were still strewn on the floor, her dresser that she’d had since childhood still supported the various perfumes and jewelry boxes that it always had, and her bed lay unmade just as she had left it. It was then that the object caught her eye. It reflected the light with all the intensity of the sun, and it glared at her. Mirra was terrified! He had been here just as she knew he would. She wanted to scream, to run, to get out of this room, but she just stood rooted and stared at the glittering object. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she found the courage, not to turn tail and run, but to approach her bed and the present from her visitor that lay upon her pillow.