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Description
A glass bottle flew across the room, on a path that would lead it right into the pile of bottles in the darkened corner. It was flying because Vincent William Grey had just finished the whiskey inside, yet couldn't bother himself to open the bedroom door and put it in the trash. The bottle hit the wall, shattering into several pieces. Instead of being concerned, however, Vinny simply threw the covers to the foot of his bed and laid down. As dead drunk as he was, he forgot to pull the covers back up before collapsing asleep in his day clothes.
You see, ever since his wife died last year, he'd been a complete mess, even more than usual. He'd barely bothered to even exit his bedroom, let alone exit the house. The funeral had been held without him. He'd been constantly hungover, yet it didn't seem to bother him. He slept like it was his over-time job, waking only to have another bottle or use the bathroom.
His dream started out okay tonight. They were back in high school, his sweetheart Violet by his side. Driving with the top of the rented convertible down, hair whipping everywhere. She was laughing, as though she was enjoying herself. A few minutes passed, and she just wouldn't stop giggling. "What's so funny?" he asked her. He looked over, but what he saw was not his girl. Still laughing, Violet's mocha skin was now dripping purple, seemingly melting away as her striking blue eyes took over the sclera. The smile she wore before was replaced with something sinister, her hypnotically blue eyes complementing it all. He panicked, being scared out of his life. The steering wheel jerked to the side, running the car off the road. Violet's laughing only got worse, as her gooping form leapt out of the car, leaving Vinny to ram into the cliffside wall he was previously driving along.
Vinny sprang up, flinging sweat everywhere. He was breathing hard; his hair was somehow more mussed than when he fell asleep. He got up and trudged to the bathroom, not caring that he stepped on one of the glass shards of earlier's whiskey bottle. He left bloody prints across the greyish-tan shag carpet, as he approached the master bathroom. He stared in the mirror for a moment while he turned on the cold tap. He looked away, splashing cold water on his face. His drunken mind was being taken over by an awful hangover. He looked up again.
This time, the Violet from his dream was standing next to his reflection.
He screamed and pedaled back, hitting his head on the wall and making his vision go blurry for a few seconds. He was cursing like a sailor, but as he took another look at the mirror, his reflection once again standing alone. He finally took notice of the bloody footprints he had left from the glass shard. His eyes widened as the realized that the trail had slowly turned from crimson blood to the same purple goop that enveloped his high-school sweetheart in his dream. He sunk to his knees against the wall, drawing them closer to his chest as though it would protect him. He took a look at the bottom of his foot, expecting to see a horrifying, bloody gash. But where there was once blood, there was now a glob of purple, congealed substance. He scrambled to the toilet and heaved, both from the alcohol and the situation. He couldn't tell what the tears running down his cheeks were from, the retch or his broken heart. All he knew was shattered. He never was one to believe in ghosts or the paranormal. Quite the opposite, you could say. But there was something going on here, something he was terrified of.
A voice sounded from behind him. "I'm here, honey..." It was Violet's soft murmur, as tender and caring as it was before she died. He jumped again, his tears only flowing faster. He lost it, whirling around and shouting.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" He bellowed, throwing a roll of toilet paper in the general direction of the sound. He choked on his words. "I DON'T NEED YOU ANYMORE!" He stood up and walked to the sink again. He turned on the cold tap, and splashed it on his face again. Her voice echoed in his head, her laugh, her face.
"I don't think that's true." Her voice rang again, but harsher, clearer, and closer. He jerked his head up, not seeing anything in the mirror. Vinny turned around, only to see the same dripping, blue-eyed figure of his wife standing inches from his head. "I think you need me more than ever." He leapt backwards, shattering the mirror with his elbow as he scrambled back on the cheap tile counter, water splashing everywhere from the faucet. His red face had the look of drunken terror on it as her figure stepped towards him, then dissolved. He looked behind him at the shattered mirror, shards of which were bloodying his arms. Her face was broken and scattered across all the pieces. Then, the reflection dissolved as well. "And I'm never going to leave you again." Her voice carried and echoed in his head.
The blood from the cuts on his arms turned purple and spread as he ran from the bathroom, grabbing another bottle of liquor from the shelf.
Her voice came from everywhere as he drank straight from the bottle, tears still rolling down his face. “I’ll see you soon…”