Midnight Promises
1/1
I shot up, perpetually messy hair plastered to my forehead. The dark surrounded me, filling my sight and making it hard to breathe. My eyes darted around the virtually empty apartment before I glanced down and spotted the sleeping figure of Gloria, her pale frame and fiery hair practically glowing in the night. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a dream. She wasn't gone. She wasn't dead.
I slowly pulled myself up off the mattress, careful not to wake the delicate girl laying next to me, and made my way to the bathroom to take my pills. Splashing my face with water, I desperately tried to ignore the face that was wickedly grinning at me from the mirror.
"What, did wittle Jimmy have the bad dweam again," he asked, feigning pity for me when we both knew there was none.
Ignore him, I told myself. Ignore him and he'll go away. Ignore him.
"Come on, Jim, you know it'll happen one day," the Saint purred, dropping all pretenses while reaching out of the mirror, "She'll leave you all alone-"
"No." I jerked back, almost falling into the shower as he pulled himself out of the mirror and sat on the sink. He grinned at me while his eyes shone with the knowledge that he was hitting a nerve. He was my exact double, but angrier, more horrible. Ruining my life when I thought everything was finally going well. Making each day of my life a living hell if I didn't take my pills.
"You're wrong," I stammered out, staring into the eyes that mimicked mine in every way.
"They all leave you sometime," he replied matter-of-factly, "Kate left-"
"Kate moved-"
"Tunny left-"
"Because he's a horrible 'best friend,'" I hissed.
"Sara left-"
"Sara was a cheating whore. I left her."
"After you saw that she was with another guy."
"Shut up," I whispered. He just had to point out the things I didn't want to think about. He just had to make my life so much harder to deal with.
"Why," he grinned, "Because you know I'm right?"
"Shut up!" I was desperately trying to stay quiet. Gloria was only feet away, still asleep on the mattress we shared. I didn't want to wake her in the middle of the night for something like this, not again. I could handle it. I could handle it.
"Gloria will leave you just like the others," he murmured, leaning in close so our noses were touching.
I closed my eyes and clamped my hands over my ears, desperately trying to keep him out. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Gloria hadn't left yet, even though she knew everything about me and my life. She knew about the drugs. She knew about the women. She knew about Tunny, she knew about Sara, and she knew about the Saint, yet she was still here. He had to be wrong.
When my voice came again, it left my mouth in a low whine, making me sound like a five-year-old that needed a nap. "Just go away."
"I'm in your head, Jim," he hissed, "you know that. I'm never going away."
"GO AWAY!"
"Jimmy?"
My eyes flew open and locked desperately on the form in the doorway. Gloria had thrown on one of my discarded shirts, looking small in the baggy fabric. Hair messy, almost forming a halo around her head, and worry painted across her face, Gloria's chocolate brown eyes held the fear that matched mine. I didn't even realize I was on the cold, linoleum floor until she was crouching down in front of me. I immediately grabbed her hands and buried my face in her shoulder, trying to breathe normally as I took in the familiar scent of the cigarettes we smoked together.
"It's okay, Jimmy, I'm here," she whispered into my ear, "He can't hurt you anymore. I'm here."
While she murmured soothing things in my ear, she shifted us so that she was sitting in my lap, arms wrapped around my neck. She was so tall for a sixteen-year-old dancer, only an inch or three behind my 5' 6", I could barely believe that she could sit with me like this. I instinctively locked my arms around her waist, bringing her in closer so I could almost feel her heart beat matching pace with mine. She kissed my lips softly. Once, twice, three times.
"Don't ever leave me, "I begged desperately, remembering the Saint's horrifying words. Everyone else really had left me. Gloria was the only person I had left. She was the only one who cared enough to stay. "Please. Don't ever leave."
"I won't," She promised, locking eyes with me in that motherly way that only she could pull off. "No matter what, I won't ever leave."
We sat like that for a moment longer, then she pulled me to my feet and guided me back to the ratty old mattress we slept on. She floated back into the bathroom, got my pills, and watched me take them before she discarded my shirt and lay down next to me again. She ran a hand over the tattoo of Sara's name that was on my neck, the tattoo that had somehow brought us together, then rolled over and fell asleep. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into my chest, taking comfort in the scent of smoke that lingered in her hair.
A week later she was gone, taking my heart with her, breaking the promise that I was so sure she would keep.
I slowly pulled myself up off the mattress, careful not to wake the delicate girl laying next to me, and made my way to the bathroom to take my pills. Splashing my face with water, I desperately tried to ignore the face that was wickedly grinning at me from the mirror.
"What, did wittle Jimmy have the bad dweam again," he asked, feigning pity for me when we both knew there was none.
Ignore him, I told myself. Ignore him and he'll go away. Ignore him.
"Come on, Jim, you know it'll happen one day," the Saint purred, dropping all pretenses while reaching out of the mirror, "She'll leave you all alone-"
"No." I jerked back, almost falling into the shower as he pulled himself out of the mirror and sat on the sink. He grinned at me while his eyes shone with the knowledge that he was hitting a nerve. He was my exact double, but angrier, more horrible. Ruining my life when I thought everything was finally going well. Making each day of my life a living hell if I didn't take my pills.
"You're wrong," I stammered out, staring into the eyes that mimicked mine in every way.
"They all leave you sometime," he replied matter-of-factly, "Kate left-"
"Kate moved-"
"Tunny left-"
"Because he's a horrible 'best friend,'" I hissed.
"Sara left-"
"Sara was a cheating whore. I left her."
"After you saw that she was with another guy."
"Shut up," I whispered. He just had to point out the things I didn't want to think about. He just had to make my life so much harder to deal with.
"Why," he grinned, "Because you know I'm right?"
"Shut up!" I was desperately trying to stay quiet. Gloria was only feet away, still asleep on the mattress we shared. I didn't want to wake her in the middle of the night for something like this, not again. I could handle it. I could handle it.
"Gloria will leave you just like the others," he murmured, leaning in close so our noses were touching.
I closed my eyes and clamped my hands over my ears, desperately trying to keep him out. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Gloria hadn't left yet, even though she knew everything about me and my life. She knew about the drugs. She knew about the women. She knew about Tunny, she knew about Sara, and she knew about the Saint, yet she was still here. He had to be wrong.
When my voice came again, it left my mouth in a low whine, making me sound like a five-year-old that needed a nap. "Just go away."
"I'm in your head, Jim," he hissed, "you know that. I'm never going away."
"GO AWAY!"
"Jimmy?"
My eyes flew open and locked desperately on the form in the doorway. Gloria had thrown on one of my discarded shirts, looking small in the baggy fabric. Hair messy, almost forming a halo around her head, and worry painted across her face, Gloria's chocolate brown eyes held the fear that matched mine. I didn't even realize I was on the cold, linoleum floor until she was crouching down in front of me. I immediately grabbed her hands and buried my face in her shoulder, trying to breathe normally as I took in the familiar scent of the cigarettes we smoked together.
"It's okay, Jimmy, I'm here," she whispered into my ear, "He can't hurt you anymore. I'm here."
While she murmured soothing things in my ear, she shifted us so that she was sitting in my lap, arms wrapped around my neck. She was so tall for a sixteen-year-old dancer, only an inch or three behind my 5' 6", I could barely believe that she could sit with me like this. I instinctively locked my arms around her waist, bringing her in closer so I could almost feel her heart beat matching pace with mine. She kissed my lips softly. Once, twice, three times.
"Don't ever leave me, "I begged desperately, remembering the Saint's horrifying words. Everyone else really had left me. Gloria was the only person I had left. She was the only one who cared enough to stay. "Please. Don't ever leave."
"I won't," She promised, locking eyes with me in that motherly way that only she could pull off. "No matter what, I won't ever leave."
We sat like that for a moment longer, then she pulled me to my feet and guided me back to the ratty old mattress we slept on. She floated back into the bathroom, got my pills, and watched me take them before she discarded my shirt and lay down next to me again. She ran a hand over the tattoo of Sara's name that was on my neck, the tattoo that had somehow brought us together, then rolled over and fell asleep. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into my chest, taking comfort in the scent of smoke that lingered in her hair.
A week later she was gone, taking my heart with her, breaking the promise that I was so sure she would keep.