Glimmer

by Ashley Munoz

  I pushed my eyes closed to get the image out of my head and focused on the fact that my mother wanted me to live my life, that’s what brought her joy.

  I applied some mascara and added a little more blush before turning off Laney’s bathroom light. I headed back towards the guest room that had become my home away from home these last few weeks and stood in front of the mirror that hung on the back of the door. I looked tired, with the dark circles that laid under my eyes and the pale complexion of my face. Sure, I looked appropriate to go out for the night, in a borrowed black dress from Laney, the ‘longest’ dress she owned. It still came up pretty short on me. I also had to borrow her black, strappy heels, because I did not pack any outfits to “go out” in, because going out was the last thing on my mind. I didn’t mind the dress. Laney called it her funeral dress, so it was more modest. Which I preferred, because although I was going out with her, attracting attention was not on my list of things I wanted to do tonight. Laney came around the door and peeked at me. She was wearing a small, white dress, that made her reddish hair look amazing. She paired the dress with some red lipstick and now she was slipping into a pair of red stilettos that made her almost as tall as me. Look out world, here comes Laney Thompson.

  She looked at me, her head tilted to the side and her lips pinched together. She wore an expression that said she knew I didn’t want to go out, so I gave her a weak smile. I really did want to spend time with her, but I would have been happy wearing jeans and sweatshirt, while catching a movie and eating some tacos.

  But this was Laney’s life, the Chicago life, the life I left behind. My heart splintered a little at the idea that my idea of fun had transformed so much since moving to Belvidere, since meeting Jimmy and his kids. My idea of having fun would be one of their annual pizza and movie nights, complete with a blanket fort. I wanted to cry, because as I looked in the mirror and saw my reflection, I realized how badly I wanted that life. I didn’t want to go out as a single girl into the Chicago night scene with my best friend. If I had to go out at all, I wanted to go out as a woman who was taken, off the market, unavailable, preferably married to Jimmy Stenson.

  I breathed through my nose a few times to clear my head, and then grabbed my small leather jacket, and flipped off the switch.

  Laney had called an Uber, so we could drink and just let loose tonight. She didn’t understand that I would never be able to let loose as long as my mom might need me. It wasn’t long before a silver SUV pulled up to the curb. Laney confirmed it was our driver with her phone, and his. He punched the address into his navigation screen, and we were off. The car had some light music playing, but not so much that the driver couldn’t hear us, or we couldn't hear each other.

  Laney looked over at me and smiled. “So, how are things going with Jimmy?”

  I gave her a questioning look, because I didn’t tell her that I had been texting him, or that I had talked to the kids. I started texting Jimmy a few nights ago, but after I received the text about how he had ended up in some girl’s bed, I couldn't bring myself to text him again. I knew that he was just being honest, that nothing happened, but the fact that he was in her room, in her bed, just made me sick.

  Every night, I would toss and turn, and start a text with another question, just so that I could talk to him. Then I would picture him waking up in some girl’s bed, who was in the room when he woke up, and I would stop. I hated this. I wish I hadn’t asked him that, I wish I could have seen his face or felt his arms around me after he told me, but with that and the bomb about his wife—or, ex-wife—it was just too much at once. For days, I wanted to ask him why he didn’t think to tell me, or to warn me about Lisa, or what he was doing? Why all the secrecy, why didn’t he feel like he could trust me with it?

  I imagined the girl he woke up with was someone he knew in his past. I even went as far as imagining that she touched him while he was unconscious, or that something did happen and she just told him that it didn’t. I mean, how would he know? I felt nauseous all over again. My face must have reflected it, because Laney put her hand to my forehead, pulling me back to our recent conversation.

  “You feel okay? You look like you're going to puke.”

  The Uber driver angled his rearview mirror until he saw us. “No puking in here, please. Let me know and I will pull over if you need to, but please, please, do not puke in here.”

  I moved her hand away from my face and looked at the driver’s eyes in the mirror. “I am not going to puke. So, relax.”

  Then I turned towards Laney to answer her previous question. “Things with Jimmy are… I don’t know.” I put my face in my hands. I felt her hand on my back, rubbing it gently,

  “What happened, sweetie?” I could hear the worry in her voice, and I hated that, right off the bat, I had ruined our evening.

  I sat up and smiled at her. “Nothing, just same old stuff between us. I asked him some questions, that I never got answered since everything…” I waved my hand around as a way to demonstrate everything. She looked at me with a worried expression.

  “What kind of questions?”

  I took a deep breath and answered as firmly as I could, “Remember that early morning I called you while you were at Jackson’s, and I had to talk to him because I didn’t know where Jimmy was?”

  Her face was turning red, something that happened whenever Jackson was brought up. “Yeah I remember…” She trailed off.

  “Well, I asked Jimmy about that night, if he… you know… if he…”

  I couldn't even finish the sentence, tears were already threatening to fall at just saying the words.

  “Ramsey, you didn’t? Why would you put yourself through that, honey?” she asked, grabbing my hands.

  “I had to know, Laney, it was burning me up inside, not knowing all this stuff from him. He’s so secretive,” I said, justifying myself and my questions.

  “What did he say?” Laney asked, her eyes zoned in on mine and her eyebrows drawn together.

  “He said he woke up in some girl’s bed, but she told him that they didn’t do anything, not even kiss.” I said it without crying, then let out a little sigh of relief.

  “Then that’s a good thing, right? Why are you so upset about it?” Laney asked, giving me the most confused look, I have ever seen on her dumb, beautiful face.

  “Laney, he woke up in another girl’s bed, in her room, she was there when he woke up! What do most girls who are looking to have sex with a guy look like when they wake up in the morning?” I said with a sharper tone, because Laney wasn’t getting it.

  She winced and looked down. “Yeah, I guess when you put it that way… but were you guys even…?” She trailed off. I knew what she wanted to say but I was going to let her say it, because she should already know the answer to this.

  “Were you guys exclusive? I mean, I thought you agreed to just be friends…”

  She wasn’t wrong, so I dialed my tantrum down a bit with my reply. “It’s complicated. Yes, we agreed to be friends, but we both agreed that we weren’t dating during that six weeks of us building a foundation between us, because after the six weeks, the whole goal was to date each other,” I said with a little flick of my wrist.

  “Okay… but the whole thing confuses the hell out of me. I think you shouldn’t hold this against him, because from what I hear, the guy is miserable.”

  She said it without much thought, which showed in her expression when she finally looked at me and saw my face.

  “Oh, Ramsey, wait don’t get pissed, okay!” she said, leaning back a bit and raising her voice.

  “What do you mean then, Laney? You better explain what you mean by, ‘from what you hear,’” I said, holding her in place with my stone-like, bitch face.

  “Okay, okay, it’s just that Jackson and I still text from time to time, and he asked what I was doing this weekend, and I told him that you were here, and mentioned that we might go out, because I felt like you needed a night out after everything with Jimmy…” She t
ook a deep breath; my face hadn't changed at all yet.

  “Anyway, when I mentioned Jimmy’s name, Jackson sent an emoji that was rolling his eyes, and said it was more like Jimmy needed a night out after what you were putting him through, then he said that Jimmy was trying everything to apologize to you, but you weren’t even talking to him…” she finished with a light blush.

  I moved my eyes away from her and looked out the window, trying to get my temper under control. How on earth did I get made into the bad guy here? Jimmy and I kiss, then we make a date, he finds something out, doesn't clear the air with me, so he shacks up with some girl for the night. He freezes me out for a few weeks, at the end of which I end up getting abducted. He then pushes me away for God knows what reasons, and I finally muster up the courage to leave and get healing from him, and I'm dubbed the bad guy? After everything?

  The memory of being tied to that chair, with him in front of me, surfaces, and I start to gag. I can feel the tightness in my throat and the hammering of my heart. No, Jimmy doesn’t get to be the victim here. I would say all this to Laney, but it would come out much harsher and louder than acceptable in our little Uber car. So, I bit my tongue and watched the street lights until we stopped in front of a nightclub. It was a large brick building, with lettering on the side that said, “Lit Republic.”

  There was a long line of people that trailed down the side of the building and a roped off area at the front, complete with a large bouncer guarding the entrance. I got out of the car without even looking at Laney. She knew my temper and she knew that I just needed some space for a second. I didn't wait for Laney, as I made my way to the front of the line, not because I expected to get in, but because I needed a bathroom and some privacy and some tissues because I wanted to cry.

  I was hoping the bouncer would take pity on me, one big smile in his direction and he did. I walked right through the rope, showed my ID, and made my way through the throngs of people towards the back of the room where I knew a bathroom would be. Of course, there was a long line of glitzed-up women waiting outside the bathroom door. I moved to the front of the line, and said to the women that I was just getting tissue and that I didn't need to pee. That seemed to satisfy them.

  The bathroom was spacious, it had at least ten stalls, and a long counter with three or four sink spaces. It was lit enough to apply makeup but not awkwardly fluorescent. I found some paper towels because all the stalls were full. I dabbed under my eyes, and stared at the faucet, wishing I could wash my face. In real life, that doesn’t work, and I would walk out of here looking like a drowned rat. I took a few breaths in and out and tried to think back to a few of my therapy sessions. I focused on gaining control of the situation that I felt was making me feel powerless. Rage was forming in my throat, and it threatened to come out in the form of screaming. I wanted to hit something. This was my new normal.

  When I remembered being in that room, tied to that chair, something inside of me snapped. Like when a caged beast is released. I felt so, powerless, and afraid, like something was taking over my body. I wasn’t strong enough in that room. I couldn't stop them, I wanted to stop them. They violated my body with their hands, their mouths, and the bat. They hurt me, they were going to kill me. Suddenly it was too much and I ran into a stall that just vacated before the next girl in line can go in. I slammed the door shut against her pounding, and yelling, and vomited into the toilet. I hated how connected those feelings were to Jimmy, how I haven’t told Laney about my therapy or about that night in that room, about what they did to me.

  I can’t tell anyone, not my mother, not Laney, not even my therapist knows everything that happened in that room. The person I wanted to tell was Jimmy, because he was my connection to the piece of shit who touched me and hurt me. After the hospital, he just cut me out of his life, knowing that I was fucking abducted.

  He hasn’t asked about the nightmares that keep me up at night, about the vomiting I do anytime I think of the tall man who smelled of mildew and smoke. Or how I still feel the zip ties on my hands, his hot tongue on the side of my face, licking the cuts he just opened with his fists. I pushed my eyes shut to try and force the look in his eyes out of my mind. It hurts that Jimmy hasn't asked me about any of it, and yet they say that he's going through a hard time? A rage that was unlike anything I'd ever experienced started to take over. I left the stall and walked through the bathroom, pushed open the door, and joined the mass of moving bodies.

  Emotions were flowing out of me as I danced, and danced, and danced. I didn't look for Laney, I didn't care about her right now. No one needed or wanted a villain, which is what I had become. I let men buy me drinks. I gave them all a good time on the dance floor, let them use my body however they wanted. I didn’t care, rage and anger were calling the shots now.

  I was gone but so was the pain, the anger, the rage. They let me be. I just danced and danced and danced, until I couldn't anymore. The darkness claimed me; here, it was quiet, it was peaceful. There were no walls to keep me in, there was no chair, there was no face. No hands to hit me, there was no dirty mattress with my blood to coat it, there was no bat.

  There was no one. It’s just the darkness and me, and I welcomed it with open arms.

  I heard voices, they were muffled and hushed. I couldn't open my eyes, it hurt too much. My whole body felt numb and cold. I didn't know where I was, but I didn't really care. I felt weightless, like I could float away. I wanted the darkness again, I wanted the rage and anger, I wished I could summon them like a superpower. I wished that I could…

  “No, she just needs to rest, Laney. Just let her rest… she’ll be okay…” a man's voice whispered in a hushed tone. I knew that voice. It was so far away, though. Images of sunlight and grass, a soccer ball, and smiles with missing teeth. Sammy. Jasmine. Jimmy…

  Why is Jimmy here? He wasn’t there when….

  No. I didn't want to think about that room without anger and rage as a defense. They fought my battles for me, and right now, they weren't here.

  I heard someone crying, sobbing, it sounded like a woman, I knew that voice too. “I don’t know what happened, she’s never done this be-before. Sh-she just snapped and left, and th-the next thing I know, she’s dancing and drinking, and …God, it was so bad, I didn’t even recognize her. Is she having a breakdown? I just want her to be okay.”

  I could hardly hear Laney through her choked sobs and stuttering. Was she talking about me? I still couldn't open my eyes.

  “Just get some sleep, I'm going to stay in here again, to make sure she’s okay.”

  Jimmy again. What did he mean by, ‘stay here again’? I didn't know, I didn't care, I was weightless, and there’s the darkness I loved. It came to claim me again.

  Here I am, I said to it, as it took me away.

  I closed the door to Jackson’s guest room where I was staying for the weekend and turned off the light. It was quiet now, without Laney’s sobs, and cries. Ramsey was still asleep, like she was yesterday. I knew it wasn’t a good idea that she had literally slept for an entire day, but I knew she was okay… I knew that she just needed rest. I knew, because I had come down from a few bad highs in my time.

  I sat in the chair by the large bay window and watched the rain pelt the glass with its heavy drops. I laid my face in my hands and then looked up to see Ramsey’s sleeping body from across the room. I thought about the night before, when Jackson and I were playing a hand of poker in his game room with a few of his friends. He had called me on Friday, and told me to come for the weekend, to get my mind off of Ramsey and off the fact that she hadn’t texted me once since I answered her questions, the last one about not sleeping but waking up with someone else.

  I had texted her every day, like usual. I apologized, even tried calling her, left her a few voicemails, but still nothing. So, Jackson and Dad insisted that I get away for the weekend. I pointed out that being in the same city as the woman who was putting my heart through the blender was probably not the best idea, but Ja
ckson simply replied by saying it was a big ass city.

  So, I came Friday, and we planned a big poker game, no women allowed. It was going great, until Jackson got a phone call around ten p.m. from Laney. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I saw the worry etched into Jackson’s face, and when he stood from the table and found my eyes, I knew it had to do with Ramsey.

  I stood up with him, he headed upstairs and found his coat, and he kept telling Laney to calm down, that we were coming and to keep Ramsey there. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it might stop working entirely. I was fumbling for shoes, and my coat, worrying, hurting, scared to death that something had happened. Finally, he hung up and ran out of his house, I was close on his tail. Once we were in his SUV and driving, he filled me in as much as he could.

  “It’s Ramsey…she’s trying to leave with two guys… Laney said that Ramsey…” He trailed off, gripped the steering wheel and glanced at me, then continued, “Ramsey, has been acting weird all night. Laney said she tried to keep an eye on her, but every time Laney would walk up to her, Ramsey would go and drink more with different guys, and then dance and she said she was dancing like…”

  He trailed off again, I didn’t need him to finish, my imagination worked just fine. My fists were clenched so tight, I could feel the blood loss from it. I knew it was going to take every ounce of willpower not to punch one of those guys’ faces in, just for touching Ramsey. Jackson must have known where my mind was at, because he pressed a button on his steering wheel, then said, “Call Theo.”

  Dad came on over the speaker, and Jackson only had to say, “Put one of the kids on,” for Dad to know what was going on. I was still clenching and unclenching my fists and grinding my teeth; my jaw ached from how hard it was set. I was battling those demons pretty hard, and I was so glad that I had Jackson, because I would more than likely end up in jail tonight without him. A few muffled seconds later, I heard a sleepy Jasmine start to talk, “Uncle Jax? What’s going on?”