They call her Bella. It’s appropriate, you think. ‘Beautiful’ in Italian and, goodness, she certainly is both of those. She’s tall and curvy and has long, black hair with little streaks of purple in it. Every time you see her, even your eyelids start to sweat. You’ve always been reasonably confident. You can usually introduce yourself to people and flirt until the sun comes up the next morning, but this time is different. Something deep inside you aches and twitches and you turn into that anxious little kid again. You remember the awkwardness you felt trying to impress that person you liked and are brought back to being that puddle of nerves electrified by desire.
One day, you finally work up the guts to introduce yourself. She seems surprised but that initial astonishment turns quickly into smoldering heat. Her eyes glimmer and she smiles and your heart does a twist in your chest that you could almost swear should be fatal. She asks you your name and you tell her, even though you aren’t really sure of what it is yourself anymore. She says you’re cute and you can actually feel your blood pumping through your veins. She wants to know if you want to go on a date on Friday and you nearly break the sound barrier with the speed with which you say yes.
You’ve heard the rumors, naturally. She’s dangerous. She’s psycho. Her partners disappear. And on and on. You always chalk them up to jealousy. Everyone who mentions those nasty bits of slander is probably someone who couldn’t get her attention. How sad!
Date night comes and your stomach does flips. You put on your best clothes, do your hair perfectly, and even go purchase a bottle of wine for after dinner. You’re ready. Well, as ready as you can be while going out with a goddess.
The night is perfect. You go out dancing and take over the floor. You get an incredible dinner at her favorite place. You walk, hand-in-hand, back to her apartment and there you stand, nerves on fire, unsure of what happens next. You need not worry, though. She takes your face in her hands, leans in, and kisses you. Her lips are soft and smooth and your knees nearly buckle. You feel your heart begin to race and you assume it’s from excitement.
She takes your hand and leads you inside, your heart still thudding in your chest. She sits you down on her couch and watches you. Excitement turns to worry when your heart won’t slow down. It won’t slow down. Worry slides quickly into fear as you see the world begin to melt around you. Colors change and morph into shadowy creatures lurking in the corner. You look at her and she’s smiling, though now with dark joy. She says she lied to you and you feel your vision start to blur. As the world fades away, you hear her last confession.
Her name isn’t Bella. It’s Donna.
Here is where I''ll post random stories that aren't, as of yet, in a larger book. Call it a free ride into the mouth of madness, yo.