by Belle Zimet
She was elated by her intoxication with the newness of Bryan. After they’d had breakfast on the deck, she’d been pained to leave but she knew she needed to get home and smooth things over and let Troy know she was ok. Bryan had given her his address and offerened an open invitation to come over at any time.
It was only about 11am when she began to near the gates and she felt her stomach sinking at the thought of going back to that house and room where a potent blend of sadness and mourning seemed to ooze from the walls. She hadn’t quite realized the toll the leaden ambiance took on her, until she had left and experienced happiness. She fought the urge to turn around and take Bryan up on his offer.
She was hit by a second wave of discontent when she realized how she would be walking in. It was certainly the quintessential walk of shame to appear at lunch time wearing her slinky black dress from the night before. Their faces reflected the same thought when she walked in. She had considered just going straight upstairs, but knew that it would never fly.
“Wow, Ella. Nice bed head.” Troy said with a low whistle, from the couch.
“And make up already washed off.” Alexa added.
“Yes, yes, get your comments in, because I know how this looks.” She shrugged. “And honestly, it is exactly as it looks.”
Troy’s mouth opened and Alexa started to laugh, though the look on Troy’s face was quickly becoming disapproving.
“I had a busy night, and if you don’t mind, I’m going to go take a nap. I’ll be available for questions later.” She added with a smile as she turned on her heel and disappeared upstairs.
She quickly put on some stretchy pants and a tank top and snuggled into bed. She fell into a deep nap, but was awoken with a start. The room was quiet and still, but she quickly discovered the source of the disturbance. An urgent presence that had been willing her awake, and was sitting only feet from her at the vanity table. She was turned away from Ella and even in the mirror her face was obscured by her long, black hair.
Ella didn’t move a muscle as she sat, heart racing as she watched the apparition. Mercedes had on the same dress as before and she was hunched over with her shoulders shaking almost violently as if she were sobbing noiselessly. Ella watched in horror as her head raised and Mercedes slowly started to turn around. Her face remained hidden by her long raven hair, but would be visible in her trajectory in only moments. Ella took a deep breath and covered her head with the blanket. She cried softly as she clutched the blanket over her head, willing the thing to go away.
Ella counted out five minutes and then forced herself to peek out in the direction of the vanity. She saw it was empty and sighed in relief as she quickly tossed the covers aside and turned on the lamp quickly, as dusk had bathed the room in creeping darkness. She turned to leave the room and find Troy and found herself instead face to face with Mercedes. The girl stood the same height as she had in life, which put her at inches above Ella. Ella looked in horror at the telltale reddish blue marks riddling Mercedes’ neck. Her eyes rimmed with brown and red bags, lips colorless, skin washed with a deathly pallor, except mottled brown spots all over her cheek as she opened her transparent mouth and screamed.
Ella symbiotically screamed in hysterics back when she realized she was blocked into the corner by the bed. In utter terror she fell onto the bed and covered her head again and screamed until she heard the door bang open and looked up to see Troy running in, face terrified.
“Ella, are you ok? What’s going on?!” He shouted, voice overtaken with worry and fear as he bounded onto the bed and uncovered her.
She buried her face in the pillow and continued dissolving into hysterics. He tugged at her shoulders. “Let me hear you say you’re ok.”
She gasped for breath through her tears. “I’m not hurt.”
“What happened?”
She finally willed herself to sit up and look around the now empty room. “Was she gone when you got here?” She asked through choked sobs.
“Who?” But his face dawned with understanding before she could answer. “Oh no, you can’t be serious.”
“She was here. First at the vanity and then right in my face. Looking horrible and screaming in my face.” Ella covered her face with her hands. “Jesus, what did I do?”
“You did Bryan.” He told her. It sounded like a joke, but there was nothing jovial in his tone. “Think about it.”
“Like I’m stepping on her turf? They were never together!” Ella cried desperately.
“What if he did it, Ella? Maybe that was her warning to you.” He told her pointedly.
“No, I don’t believe it.” She growled in frustration and smacked her hand onto the bed. “God, this is so fucked up. She wrote help me on the mirror. Why can’t she do the same and tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do, who did it...anything.”
“Or lotto numbers.”
She looked at him annoyed. “Can’t you take anything seriously?”
“Sorry, I had to.” He put his hands up. “Look, would you say this visit was hostile?”
“Well, it wasn’t nice.”
“When you say she looked horrible, what did you mean?” He inquired.
“She had marks on her neck and her face was colorless and she actually looked…dead.” Ella whispered, swallowing hard at the memory of it.
“She didn’t look like that before?”
“I mean, I wasn’t as close last time and she was in reflection, but that time she looked better. Same dress, that she would have never worn, so I don’t know how that’s possible. It isn’t in her closet.” Ella explained, still trying to catch her breath.
“Ugh.” He groaned.
“What?”
“Think about why that dress wouldn’t be in her closet and why it wouldn’t be something she normally would have worn.” He said expectantly.
“Ugh,” she agreed as she realized where he was going. “It’s what she was buried in.”
“There are pictures…from the viewing, I mean. We can see.” He told her carefully.
“No, no, I don’t need to see that. What good would it do?” She demanded, racked with distaste at the suggestion.
“You would know you aren’t crazy.”
“More like, YOU would know I’m not crazy, Troy.” She said staring at him accusingly. “I know what I saw.”
“Fine, describe it. I’ll look.” He sighed.
“Ick,” she said pulling herself up. “It was a long, loose, blue dress with little pink flowers. The neck was squared and went all the way up to her collarbone. The phrase “wouldn’t be caught dead in it” comes to mind, but certainly we may have proven that old adage wrong.”
He snorted. “Now look who can’t take things seriously.”
She smiled briefly despite herself. “I’m not sleeping or setting foot in this room anymore, Troy.”
“Fine, I don’t blame you. I’ll help you bring your stuff down.”
“While you’re at it, there is broken glass up in the attic, also courtesy of Mercedes.” She explained the thudding occurrences and he gave no fight about cleaning it up and stated that her viewing pictures were up there anyway.
They had her moved into the guest room downstairs within an hour. It was being used for storage and supplies, but she didn’t care. She refused to replay tonight's events.
She lay in the new bed and found it impossible not to pour over the recent events. She’d had an incredible night with Bryan, and was certainly hoping to see him again. But, was she clouded by the enchantment and validation of a new man after she had been cast aside by the last? Was he lying to her about his level of interest in Mercedes? Had he actually been obsessed with her? And if so, was it enough to murder her?
She could absolutely not wrap her head around him committing a rape and murder. Not after he had turned her down while she was inebriated and incapable of making good decisions. He’d been so caretaking and understanding.
But she could not ignore the timing of Mercedes’s latest visit
. And certainly the intensity of it was suspect. It was definitely not subtle, and Ella could not decide if it was driven by desperation or the actual motive of scaring her. Was it punishment or a warning?
Ella knew that she was trying to convince herself that the timing was a coincidence, or that Mercedes was frustrated because she was getting off track. She was set to see Bryan again the next day, and she decided to tell him of the haunting to gauge his reaction. From what she gathered, he was a staunch non believer, but she had to see how he would react to the possibility that Mercedes had returned to try and solve her own murder, even if he just laughed or looked at her in distaste.
As she lay there she was shocked by a tinkling sound outside her door. She moaned in frustration as she parsed the melody and realized that it was the same music box.
She was at least smart enough to recognize that trying to ignore it wasn’t an option and quickly threw open the door to retrieve it, hoping it wasn’t being held by Mercedes. It sat there lonely and squarely in front of the door and of course it was again devoid of the tape she’d used to shut it and was now wide open. She took it onto the bed with her and sat cross legged as she carefully examined the box. She turned it over to double check that she hadn’t missed something stuck to the bottom, but there was nothing. She lifted the red felt compartments inside as the little ballerina did her dance, and found nothing. In desperation she shook it and was amazed to hear a click. She flipped it back open and looked carefully at the mirror and saw that it was loose where the glue had weakened. She looked around and then dug her fingernails around the glass and pulled it off with surprising ease, and noted that it seemed like it had been done many times. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw a small sheet of yellow paper, folded over and discolored in its antiquity.
She carefully unfolded it and saw that it was a handwritten calendar of sorts. It was one month and each day was listed with letters attached to a majority of the days. The handwriting was precise and she had no trouble discerning the upper case letters. When she saw N listed more frequently than others she realized what this paper may be. Some sort of log of Mercedes’s sexual encounters. She scanned the rest of the letters and found that D was listed with great frequency as well, and there was a B1 and B2 here and there. Ella swallowed heavily. Oh god, Bryan? At least one of them? Could she have racked up two other B names besides him?
She noted that this was the month she had died, and she had been very active. There was nothing listed on the day she died, and of course that was either because she’d never gotten to listing it, or because the encounter had been against her will right before she died.
“What are you trying to tell me, Mercedes?” She said aloud. “It’s one of these men isn’t it?” As soon as she’d said it she recalled something that made her realize that not all of these sexual encounters necessarily had to be a man.
Chapter 13
2007
It had been weeks since the encounter with Nick, and Ella had not been comfortable at the mansion since. She resolved that Mercedes had seen nothing, as the girl’s attitude remained completely genial towards her. Nick averted his eyes every time he saw her and relations were painfully strained, and it was only worsened by her immense hurt. She felt like a fool, like she had tried to take on Goliath but wasn’t as adept a warrior as David had been. How had she ever hoped to have Nick choose her over Mercedes?
Ella had been avoiding hanging out at Alexa’s house, but had come tonight. It was either get back with the program or admit to Alexa what had happened. Usually, she told Alexa everything, but just couldn’t bring herself to share this.
She purposefully picked tonight because she knew that Nick had football practice early the next day and usually didn’t come over. She came late and didn’t see Mercedes at all and didn’t even know if she was home. She and Alexa had stayed up talking and watching movies, but Alexa had since gone to bed, leaving Ella on the couch, just waiting for the claw of sleep to pull at her.
Finally with a yawn she found her way into the dark guest bedroom. There was no overhead lighting and nothing attached to the light switch, so instead of fumbling her way to find the lamp on the nightstand she just fell into bed. Her shock was staggering when her hands connected with soft flesh and she heard a muffled groan.
She yelled in surprise and sat up quickly as the room was bathed in light, her unknown victim illuminating the room. She stared in a daze at Bryan Mayfield who was sitting up in bed staring at her expectantly. She’d never really talked to him, just observed him around campus and spoken with him briefly here while he was with Mercedes. He had always struck her as remarkably mature and devoid of the self consciousness that normally marked people of his age.
“Oh my god, I didn’t know you were here!” She yelled by way of explanation.
“Yes,” he said amused. “I realized that as you were punching me.”
“I didn’t mean to.” She stammered.
“That also did not escape me. There are plenty of people who would like to inflict bodily harm on me, yet I don’t think I could inspire that kind of violence from you in our two seconds of acquaintance.” He said as he rubbed his side.
“I’m so utterly embarrassed. I usually sleep here, and just didn’t think anyone was over.”
“So you mentioned.” He gestured to the bed. “Would you like me to take the couch?”
She recognized the intimacy of her sitting on the bed with him still and got up. “No, no thank you. I’ll just bunk with Alexa.”
“I’d be fine with leaving you the room.” He offered again.
“No, I punched you. The least I can do is give you a bed to nurse the injury.” She said as she began to back out of the room.
“Well, that’s very magnanimous of you. Have a good night.” He added as he leaned over and turned off the light.
Ella closed the door and leaned against it and closed her eyes as the embarrassment washed over her mercilessly. She quickly ascended the stairs and started down the hall to Alexa’s room. She saw light flooding from Mercedes’ room. She wasn’t surprised that she was home, since Bryan was here, but was surprised that she had her door open and was up at this late hour. She really didn’t want to be acknowledged, so she stepped lightly and hoped that Mercedes would be paying attention elsewhere.
She was shocked to find that Mercedes did indeed have attention elsewhere, and that was on being on her hands and knees with a college age man taking her from behind. They kept their moans low and they seemed to be nearing completion of the act.
Ella was stuck in an unbelievably awkward situation. They were both facing her, though her head was down and his head was faced towards the ceiling. The floorboards in the hall tended to creak loudly and she knew if she were to move, the sound and disruption would definitely alert them, and backtracking would have the same effect. She stayed quiet and attempted to avert her eyes as his movements quickened and he grabbed Mercedes’ long hair like a bridle as he finished.
Ella stood quietly and waited for them to be occupied with dressing or moving around and soon after Mercedes got off the bed and stood unabashedly naked. Ella swallowed hard and looked in awe at physical perfection. Mercedes had perfect breasts that were well sized and buoyant, and they were coupled with a tiny, trim waist that branched to rounded hips and long, lithe legs. She was putting her lustrous hair into a bun at the top of her head when she suddenly looked at the door and smiled.
“Hi, Ella.” She said casually. The man quickly turned and spotted her as well and smiled inappropriately.
“I’m sorry!” She spat out as her face turned a deep shade of scarlet. She spun on her heel and ran downstairs and to the back porch. She sat on the swing and covered her face with her hands.
How much embarrassment could one girl suffer in one house? She groaned when she realized what a perverted stalker she must seem like. She was very, very glad she had picked the back patio when she heard movement on the ground floor. She didn’t know what she w
ould have done if she’d had to face Mercedes’ lover on his way out.
Ella sat and decided to wait until Mercedes would undoubtedly be upstairs and then she would sleep on the couch. She sat for twenty minutes and was gearing to get up when Mercedes walked out onto the back porch holding a bottle and two glasses. She was wearing a robe, and her hair was damp as though she’d just taken a shower.
“Hi,” she said with a smile and handed her a flute of bubbly. “This one brought champagne. Will you drink some with me?”
Ella felt the warmth spread through her cheeks as she obliged and sat back down with her glass. Mercedes had even dropped a strawberry into it and it was ice cold and delicious. She guzzled half the glass and Mercedes refilled it before sitting next to her on the swing.
“Did that freak you out?” Mercedes asked unexpectedly.
“Uh, yes, a little,” she drank her champagne quickly to fill the awkward gap. “I wasn’t trying to spy on you guys, I swear. I know how that must have looked.” She added.
Mercedes laughed and started a swinging motion, which Ella aided. “I don’t care, Ella. But, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t believe you’re some voyeur.”
“Well, I should have just gone along down the hall, but didn’t want to embarrass us all by letting you know I had seen.” Ella continued to explain.
“Look, I’m the one that didn’t close the door. I don’t care that you saw. Sex and nudity are natural. I don’t understand why people have such a problem with it. I would be naked on this swing right now without batting an eyelash.” She smiled. “You could be naked and it wouldn’t be an issue.”
“I’m just not like that, so it’s hard for me to relate. I’m still embarrassed. What must have the guy you were with thought?” She said, covering her face with her free hand.
“He asked if you might want to join next time, Ella.” Mercedes let out a peel of laughter. “I told him I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“And you’d be right.” Ella said, loosening a bit with the openness of the unexpected conversation..
