I pushed myself away suddenly from a socialite, dressed tightly in black and white. I had spilled my water all over his shirt. I tried to apologize and wipe it off with my napkin. But he shoved me away and walked towards the bathroom. Calming myself, I went to grab a drink and find a seat, but I felt intensely uncomfortable and stuffy. Party guests walked around with their martinis and fancy cheeses. They occasionally glanced at me with a mixture of confusion and judgment. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I wanted to be at home right now in front of my TV, washing away the day’s hardships. But I’d promised my friend I’d go in her place because she hated these kinds of parties. I didn’t want to go, but she insisted. So, I sucked it up, took some cheese and grapes, and sat down.
A few moments passed by. Then five. Then then. I grew increasingly agitated and wished to hide in the bathroom away from the noise. God, I hated the noise that buzzed in my ears. I put a cheese block in my mouth, drowning it with wine. It didn’t do anything. I asked for a drink at the bar. A hard one. Rum on the rocks. He gave me a look but took my request anyway. The second he put the drink down, I swiped it and gulped it down. It burned the back of my throat, and I coughed roughly. It was just enough for me to gain enough clarity to see the man return from the bathroom. He glared at me but turned away. With the rum in my system, I silently ate my grapes and cheese, watching everyone.
A slow laugh suddenly came from me, and I had to cover my mouth to conceal it. I had a lot of fun today, looking around the mall that morning for new clothes and shoes. I’d gotten a new pink dress and a pink purse to match.
“Hello?” A voice made me turn around.
“Is everything all right?”
It was the bartender, giving me a look of concern. I took another slow breath and smiled.
“I’m all right, sir,” I said. “I’d like another drink, please.”
After 3 drinks, I began to feel better, and the noise level didn’t feel so high anymore. I decided to take my chances and talk to someone. It’ll do me better than sitting here, where I’ll be until midnight. Getting up, I looked around for someone to talk to. But every time I would approach them, either a man or a woman would roll their eyes and walk away. After 3 or 4 attempts, I gave up. God, I really should have changed. I look like crap, ugh. I excused myself to straighten up. My Polo shirt and coat were crinkled and wrinkled. The black bottoms were the same. My hair was messed up, and my black gloves had slipped off my hands a little. No. I hadn’t realized. Fear struck me as I saw it. But I pushed that fear down. Stop worrying. I smoothed my clothes down, fixed my hair, and pulled my gloves back up. They were looking at my face, not my hands. Ready to face the party, I opened the bathroom door. The mixture of the noise and the alcohol running through my system made me feel like I was hallucinating.
I saw everyone from this point, and thoughts started pouring in, jagged and strange. Is night…real? What does red mean? I’m a whale. I slapped my face, snapping me out of it. Focus, damn it. I noticed that a man was standing by my seat. I waved and glanced at him. I’d only seen him a couple of times in my neighborhood. But I thought he either came to visit or lived there. I wasn’t sure why he was here, though.
He grinned at me, inviting me to sit down. I did so, slowly, watching his smile never waver.
“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” I asked.
Grinning a little wider, the man responded with glee.
I wanted to invite you to my house tonight,” he said.
“You seem like a nice fella, sitting there without anything to do.”
I raised my eyebrows and laughed. This was a 40-something-year-old man smiling a little too widely. I was a 24-year-old kid, but I wasn’t an idiot. I decided to play up my tactics to have some fun.
“Sir, I notice that you look a little uncomfortable,” I said coyly, giving him a teasing smile.
He took my hands suddenly, moving a little closer.
“I am, but now that I’m looking at you, I’m not so uncomfortable anymore,” the man said.
He began slowly sliding off my gloves, and I pulled my grip free. I pulled my gloves back up and walked away. The man began to follow close behind.
“You look so shy with those gloves said. I bet you have pretty hands,” the man said, whispering into my ear. My grin began to widen as I casually walked towards the door. The closer he stepped, the wider my grin grew. Once he was right up to my ear again, I opened the door slowly. As he began putting his hands on my back and shoulders, I turned around sharply and shoved him out. He was shocked by my change of actions and didn’t react for a moment. When I looked at him again, I noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. Then his face got more furious, and he barreled towards me. I started to run away from the door, but he was gaining on me. I tried to get swallowed up in the crowd, but they moved out of the way, annoyed or concerned. I was near the end of the room when the man overtook me. He violently tried to rip off my gloves, and I began to fight him off. I threw punches at him, and he threw a few stronger punches back at me. I missed two. The third punch knocked me down briefly before I shot back up in a ready stance. The anger in his eyes started to turn to desperation. I shoved him against the wall, panting heavily.
The man came at me again, this time with the determination and anger of a fully grown bull. I got out of the way when he rammed the wall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bartender and the party owner run over. One of them turned to me quickly. They held him down and took him away.
“We’re so sorry,” the party owner said. “Bill’s daughter died recently. Police are still looking for the killer. It seems that the stress is taking a toll on him.”
I raised an eyebrow. Oh? Didn’t seem stressed.
“When did she die?” I asked casually.
“Oh, at 4 pm,” the bartender said. “We told Bill not to come today, but he didn’t listen.”
Interesting. I nodded. Then I grinned and told them that it was no problem that Bill nearly killed me. I went back to my seat at the bar, completely sobered up by this point. I put more blocks of cheese into my mouth and took little sips of wine. The party had died down by this point, and people began going home. I watched them all, intrigued. Some of them looked very nice, and I even saw a rare blue turquoise ring. I decided to ask about it when I noticed law enforcement had entered the room. I shrugged and sipped more wine as they fanned about, talking to people.
“Don’t be alarmed, folks; we’re just questioning people about the murder that was reported 8 hours ago,” an officer said. Some of the guests began filing out faster after the police arrived. Bill was chatting to the police, occasionally wiping his face. I ignored him, except for one detail that I heard above the crowd.
“Suspect stole daughter’s pink dress and purse,” a policeman said to a partygoer. As the woman spoke, the policeman scribbled down something. Shit. I waited until someone walked in front of the officer before I stood up slowly. It was an older woman holding a green, frilly coat. I slammed right into her, making her lose her grip. I didn’t care that she was an elderly woman. I just had to use her to get out of here. Before the woman responded, I covered her mouth. Oh shit. Damn, there’s no time. I stood up the woman, using her as a shield to walk past the officers, bumping and pushing into people. But as I placed her on a chair, people swarmed in my direction, confusing me.
I ran and slipped on my feet. Damn it, clumsy. The police officers were far enough away, distracted. Standing up, I brushed myself off. I took a huge breath of relief as I turned the handle. I stepped outside, still holding the needle in my hand. Closing the door slowly, I rearranged my coat around my shoulders. Then I walked towards the elevators with my hands in my pockets. I had begun to sing a tune. Then Room 218 suddenly burst open, and footsteps started running towards me. I looked behind me and shrugged.
“Sir, we need to speak to you!” A police officer called. Naturally, I didn’t respond and walked inside the elevator doors. As they ran up to the doors, they closed right at that moment. I heard shouting and banging on the doors. But I giggled and focused on staring at my hands when I took the gloves off. They were marred with the wounds from my earlier catch, Stella. I got a nice pink dress and purse from her, though, so that’s a bonus that outweighs these wounds. I knew exactly where I was going to hang it in my collection closet. I just had to hide the clothes. I thought of my drug-addicted best friend who forced me to go to the lame party. Oh, she’s going to get an earful when I get back home tonight for what she put me through. But she made nice company. I hadn’t had someone whom I thought of as a person in a long time. Being alone as a psychopath, I got lonely after two years, I suppose. I’m fearful of what will happen if she finds my collection. Maybe I was just being silly. Shaking my head, I let out a deep sigh. I’ll look for Bill later. Maybe in the park. No. I’ll find him in one of those fancy gardens. I’ll be dressed as a red socialite with a blonde wig.
Helenmollybooks 