Poisonous

Story from day one of Inktober.

A one night stand was all it was supposed to be, yet here I am, staring at her as she sleeps, her beauty radiating down to my bones. My shift at work started in an hour but all I wanted was to stay by her side and run my fingers through her sleek, naturally red hair.

The rational part of my brain pulled my thoughts away from this goddess, enticing me with the idea of earning money at work. I slid out of bed and the window I forgot to close sent cool morning air to every inch of my skin. A shiver ran down my spine and I quickly pulled on my underwear and bra, heading to the dresser to slip on a blouse and knee-length skirt. I was always expected to look the part of the “classic” female secretary; I guess that’s part of working for misogynistic a******s.

I entered the bathroom to brush my hair and fix my make-up- last night’s events had caused my lipstick to smudge and my eyeshadow was a bit too intense for work. I could see her in the mirror as I cleaned up, roused from her sleep, stretching, hair in somehow perfect condition as it flowed like a waterfall down her back. Her skin was flawless, save for the freckles dotting her body from head to toe, each one perfectly placed on her skin.

Her eyes met mine in the mirror as she smiled, a beautiful, infectious sight. Gracefully, she approached me, unclothed and unashamed, wrapping her arms around my waist and kissing my neck, “Good morning. It’s nice to finally see you clearly, your room wasn’t exactly well-lit last night. I wasn’t able to take in every inch of your gorgeous body before; but I must say, I’m not at all disappointed with what I see.” Her compliments left a light blush on my cheeks and I looked away.

She turned my face towards hers and I somehow found the courage to speak to her, “Thank you, but you’re the most beautiful person I have ever met. But if I’m being honest, I don’t remember your name. I was too entranced by your eyes, they pull me in like magic.”

“It was a crazy night so I don’t blame you, Sophie,” I turned red, she knew my name but I had been unable to remember hers. “My name is Ivy. And you look like you’re late for work.”

I glanced at my phone, panicking slightly when I saw I was, in fact, running late for work. I grabbed everything that I required for work as Ivy got together her own belongings.

“Was this just a one-night thing?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

She smiled and turned to me, “It doesn’t have to be. Here,” she pulled out a slip of paper and wrote something down before slipping it into my bag. “Feel free to call me any time.”

Her lips connected with mine and I felt energy flow through me even as she pulled away and waved goodbye.

Work was the same as always. Answering calls, scheduling meetings, filling out paperwork- all the good stuff. I was so concentrated on staying on schedule that I didn’t notice the rash that had appeared on my arm. I brushed it off, assuming I had gotten a bug bite at some point. But it wasn’t long until my neck was itching and no amount of scratching would relieve it.

I focused back on my work but noticed the occasional odd glance or worried look cast my way. No one said a thing, they just snuck peeks at me when they thought I wouldn’t notice. My skin was getting increasingly more irritated until I finally snuck away from my desk, escaping to the bathroom before things got any worse.

I was lucky enough to make it to the women’s room without running into anyone and I easily slipped into the surprisingly clean area. Mirrors lined the eastern wall above the plain-white sinks across from equally white stalls. I placed my bag on the counter next to the nearest sink and lifted my head up, observing myself in the mirror.

My neck hadn’t stopped itching; I removed my hand from my skin and… my neck was bruised all over in small patches, or that’s what it looked like, at least. It began to sting and burn where the purple-ish marks were tainting my body. I could see even more on my chest, moving below the collar of my blouse.

“Someone got lucky last night,” a co-worker exited one of the stalls behind me, chuckling at my appearance as she washed her hands. But I barely noticed her.

I scratched at my neck for the millionth time and my skin began to peel away at my touch; it came off with ease as if my own body had begun to rot. Everything burned and I could feel my throat tightening suddenly. I gulped for air, hand scrabbling at the counter desperately for something, anything that could help me.

A high-pitched scream came from my right followed by distant voices and rushed footsteps. In my fit of panic, I knocked my bag over, spilling the contents all over the floor. My legs gave out as I lost more and more air and I crashed to the ground unaware of the pain spreading through my knees from bracing my landing.

I clawed at my throat, grabbing for anything that could save me; my hand searched blindly and closed around a slip of paper, feeling overwhelmingly compelled to look at it.

I took my last breath, reading the words that had come from a red pen held in a delicate, freckled hand:

“I am Ivy,

I am poison.”

Author's Note

I haven't ever really published my writing for people to see so this is a new experience. I have a lot of ways in which I can improve my writing and feedback is always appreciated.