It’s the Eve of Halloween, which is All Hallow’s Eve. Time for monsters and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. It’s also Only’s birthday. She was always our little Halloween witch. Now she’s an amazing and talented woman. As it’s also Wednesday, that means it’s time for #1lineWed and what better theme could there be today than **MONSTER**. Once again, I dug into the archive’s and came across one of those “orphan” snippets. I don’t know about other author’s but I get “drive-by” stories and/or characters. This one is fairly self-explanatory and will get a full treatment someday.
My roommate planted her butt on the corner of my grandmother’s dressing table, blocking my reflection in the huge, round mirror. This vanity was the only thing I had from my old life—the one I’d bolted from.
“You look like shit.” Bethie, blunt as always. “Those bags under your eyes are packed for a world cruise.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered. I dabbed on concealer, realized that it gave me ghost eyes so I wiped the makeup off. Nothing was going to help. Ignoring Bethie, I grabbed a brush and pulled it through my hair one more time before huffing out a sigh. “Didn’t sleep well last night.”
Okay, I hadn’t slept well in months. Between my old life and my new life and…well…stuff. I glanced up to find Bethie watching me, worry in her eyes.
“I had that dream again.” I admitted.
Bethie’s eyes now lit with interest. “The one with the sexy guy?”
“No, the one where the guy I’ve never seen before turns into a freaking monster with blood dripping from his teeth and claws.”
She rolled her eyes. “But it starts out with him as a sexy guy. That’s your subconscious telling you that you’re afraid not only of commitment but men as well.” The voice of experience, allegedly. Bethie was a clinical psychologist.
My turn for the eye roll. What I didn’t tell her was that the dream? It felt more like the replay of a memory than some freaky message from my subconscious. Besides, I didn’t need my subconscious to remind me of my stance regarding men.
“A night out will do you good.”
No it wouldn’t. Going would be easier in the long run than arguing with Bethie. I knew she could read my expression and she geared up for a fight.
Though I didn’t want to go, Bethie dragged me out to the club anyway. I was two beers down and pretty much ignoring everything but the music. It was a good song. An oldie that made me sway to the music and sing along with the chorus. Dobie Gray’s “Drift Away.” I had the beat, boys. My shoulder bumped something solid. And warm. I looked up. And stopped breathing. He was standing there, right in front of me. The man from my dreams.
“Are you going to eat me?” I blurted it out.
Something feral flashed in his eyes, something I recognized on a soul-deep level. “Dance now, eat later.”
Well didn’t that sound…enticing. I shivered like a troop of teenagers stomped across my grave. I’d never claimed to be psychic but I knew this man. The sense of “Déjà vu all over again” washed over me. Dancing with him seemed like the best idea ever. Who was I to argue with fate?
So that’s my “monster under the bed.” Do you have any monster words to share?