Happy New FEAR
By Bridget Squires
Copyright 2010
She was beautiful, legs as long as can be, eyes a soft shade of emerald with red hair that looked like fire sprouting from her head. The bouncy curls that hopped and skipped as she moved made the fire dance seductively, drawing my attention immediately. Despite being surrounded by sweaty bodies, she shined through the crowd as if meant just for me. A smile crept across my face as I downed another captain and coke, my fifth or sixth of the night. I was feeling the buzz, a thick blanket of inebriation had wrapped around my brain, helping me in gaining enough confidence to approach this goddess tonight. She would be my New Year's kiss, I was sure of it. Club Down Under is always packed on New Year's Eve and every year I find myself present for the party. I guess I'm a sucker for punishment since every year I also end up vomiting on myself in the back of a cheap cab as I make my way home with a girl I'll never see again, but this year would be different.
This girl was special. The way her crimson mini skirt scrunched up just enough to allow a peek at her round cheeks and the fact that she was going commando tonight all gave the telltale signs that she was here alone. The white halter top, cut so deeply that her pierced navel was making its presence know, glowed brightly under the fluorescent colored lights that flickered to the beat of some up and coming rock band. Pushing and shoving trance like dancers from my path, I slowly made my way to her side, allowing a dazzling smile to catch her by surprise as she turned to writhe along the dance floor some more. She smiled back, painted lips and heavy makeup making her resemble a supermodel rather than a party animal. We danced, her gazing deep within my eyes, as if I were the only man out there, as if no one else existed. Her back arched, rising and falling in a spectacular flow of motion, heels sliding along the floor as if she were floating, defying gravity. As the night darkened, she took my hand, her skin so hot I winced as she led me to the depths of a dark corner.
I continued my captain and coke binge but when I offered her a drink she waved it off, a song like giggling leaving that tender, succulent mouth. "I don't drink anymore" she said, hand caressing mine lightly. She questioned me, little details to make small talk I suppose, and I found myself falling deeper and deeper under her spell, whether it was the alcohol or not, I didn't care, she was magnificent. Drunk and less graceful than I usually am I leaned forward to kiss her, the scent of raspberries drifting off her crimson hair and filling my senses with warmth. At the last moment she turned, refusing my attempt, eyes staring at the floor with an uneasy glance. "What's wrong?" I slurred, feeling a bit like a fool, my face flushing red with embarrassment. I reached for her, felt along her smooth cheekbone, ran a finger down the nape of her neck before pulling back and sighing loudly in what I assumed to be defeat.
"Do you love me? I mean love me as more than a one night fling?" She asked. The words drifting into my ears but my brain was too befuddled with drink to truly grasp the meaning. "Of course I do! Your beautiful!" I smiled sweetly, laying the charm on as thick as possible. It was New Year's Eve for Christ's sake and by now it was too late to find another willing girl to go home with me, mostly due to the fact it was already 11:45 pm and the ball would be dropping shortly. Those eyes, flickering in the strobing light that shot through the dark occasionally, looked at me curiously, as if searching my face for a sign I was lying. "Then I will kiss you at midnight, when the ball drops" Excitement built as we lingered in the corner, minutes ticking by slowly, my whole body aching for her. Finally the time came, the shimmering ball slowly dropping, drunken, slurred voices counted down in unison, the Dj waiting to blast the music when the cheering started. As I counted down, her smoldering grip tightened as she turned to me, pursing those shiny lips and leaning in for the kiss she had promised. Our mouths met, my tongue groping hers, a kiss that tasted like raspberries, sweet and delicious, a moment of pure joy if ever there were such a thing. As the voices reached one, the crowd went crazy. Men hooted and hollered like wild beasts, women screamed in high pitch squeals of drunken joy, all oblivious to me and the girl snuggled in the secluded corner, our eden for the evening.
Suddenly a foul taste invaded my mouth, the kiss that had been so sweet now gagged me, an aroma and flavor of rotted meat left in the sweltering heat too long. Trying to pull back I realized her hands were entangled in my hair, holding me in place with strength she could possibly possess. With a steady kick of my feet into the table leg I fell backwards, vomiting profusely a mixture of alcohol and nachos, the tang of the putrid kiss still swimming along my taste buds, poisoning my saliva. Angrily I looked up, to holler at her, curse her out but the words remained trapped in my throat, my breath refusing to release and perspiration starting to coat my skin as a new sickness set in. There, where the beauty of a lifetime had sat, now was a decayed, burnt mound of flesh. Her abdomen was sunken to the point that blackened ribs peeked from charcoal colored skin. Her face was rotted away, black voids that had held those seductive eyes just minutes ago, lips that hung over brown, cavity filled teeth. Her cheek bones and jaw line were visible through the naked areas on her face where skin had completely burned away. The brilliant hair now limp and smoking, lifeless as the rest of her, bits scattered across the table and floor. Her halter top was no longer white but a deep coffee shade, ripped in most places with bloody hand prints spread throughout the fabric.
The mini skirt, now loosely clinging to sharp hip bones, also torn and dirty, was singed along the seams. More vomit stung my throat as I emptied my stomach contents for the second time down the front of my shirt. She was sobbing, her torn lip quivering slightly, tears pouring from the holes that were suppose to contain eyes in a steady stream, sending small mists of smoke escaping into the air. "You said you loved me! Just like he did before I got into the car with him!" She screamed, the people around us far too involved to even notice. I scrambled to get to my feet, desperately trying to put distance between the two of our bodies but it was too late. A roasted hand shot out and snatched my shirt, yanking me face to face with this nightmare. I watched as she pulled a match free of a book the tables all contain, striking it and setting it ablaze. The flame itself seemed to dance in a familiar motion, rising and falling with the breeze. As she held it to my shirt, which caught fire quickly, I bellowed in pain.
My skin peeling, crisping disgustingly. The smell of my own flesh burning was overpowering, a scent like no other. "Now you join me" she whispered as the people around me screamed in fear at the fire that had engulfed my form but still, in indescribable pain, I noticed no one seemed to acknowledge her presence. As my consciousness slipped away, I caught a glimpse behind my torturer. A line of men, burnt beyond recognition, stood solemnly observing my plight. The paper the next day would hold a headline I had completely forgotten from last year and the years before, a headline I had ignored while nurturing my yearly hangover. I knew what it would say and I pictured it in my head as I died. "Ninth death resulting from deadly alcohol and matches mix on anniversary of club owners daughters fiery car crash"