Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

by Lisa Ann Porter

  Slowly looking around her apartment, feelings of sadness engulfed her, as clear understanding materialized. It was not home anymore. She had to move. Too many bad memories had overshadowed what little good memories she had here, she thought, while gazing at the curtains she remembered taking two months to find. She had wanted a certain pattern and when she had finally found them, they had to be specially ordered. Sadness. Glancing around once more, she went into the bathroom to fill the tub.

  Slamming his cell phone against the steering wheel, Nick was furious. When he was dialing Lorna’s number again, for the umpteenth time, he was thinking of all the things he was going to say when the phone rang once, then nothing. He looked at his phone as if it was a foreign object that he had never seen before and dialed her number again, but this time it kept ringing. He knew she was home.

  Enraged, he slammed the phone against his steering wheel again, and this time it cracked in two pieces, bits of it falling to the floor of his car. Drumming his fingers on the dashboard, he tried to calm himself. Looking over at Lorna’s apartment building through furious unblinking eyes, Nick slowly got out of the car.

  Sitting outside Lorna’s apartment for three days, he was livid. “How dare the little bitch leave town.” Whispering slowly, silently stalking across the street, not hearing the honk of an angry driver that barely missed hitting him, “…and not tell me where she was going!” he said through clenched teeth.

  Standing on the sidewalk, he looked up at Lorna’s apartment window. Doesn’t she know how much I love her, he thought, as his eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t she know how much I need her?” he slowly hissed, causing a woman passing by to turn, wondering to whom he was talking. Starting up the stairs, “Well, Lorna and I have lots to talk about,” he said decidedly, not realizing that he was talking out loud.

  To the outside observer, Nick appeared calm. As he stepped into the elevator, his eyes clouded with controlled fury. He had waited, he thought, as the elevator doors closed. He gave her several hours, he reasoned, as the elevator ascended to Lorna’s floor. Ding! The doors opened.

  Now times up, he thought menacingly. Stepping off the elevator, he slowly walked toward Lorna’s apartment. She has had enough time to unpack and settle down; this was his rationale with each impending step he took. Standing in front of her apartment door…now it was his turn.

  Nick rang the doorbell. He needed her. Straightening his posture, he lightly tilted his head from one side to the next to relieve the tension in his neck. She needed him too, he reasoned. Resolutely standing with legs slightly apart, both arms folded behind his back, he waited patiently for Lorna to answer her door. To the outside observer, Nick was the picture of calm.

  Lorna had just stuck a toe in the vanilla-scented bath water, when she heard her doorbell ring. The tub looked so inviting that she almost decided not to answer the door, and then she remembered Ronald saying that he had a tape she might enjoy hearing.

  Feeling slightly annoyed, she put on her bathrobe, eyeing the water, thinking that Ronald had awful timing. Tying the sash tightly around her waist, hurrying to answer the door so that she could get back to her bath, she opened the door without looking through the peephole.

  The last person she expected to see, and had not wanted to see, was standing calmly before her. “Nick…what’re you doing here?” Surprise lacing her voice, mixed with raw emotions, made her question sound more like an accusation.

  Tense moments passed before another word was heard. The silence felt like sharp pains from tiny needles prickling against her skin. His eyes bore into hers with such threatened intensity, Lorna unconsciously pulled the top of her bathrobe tighter.

  Nick did not miss the movement, as his eyes flickered to her hands clutching her robe. “What do you think I’m doing here?” he answered softly, his voice laced with fury that she would ask him to account for his actions. “I came to see my fiancée…remember?” He said the word fiancée like it was a dirty smear upon his tongue.

  Anger made his body tremor, yet to old Ms. Patterson who was shuffling by in her pink fur slippers, carrying her small dog that she called miss tiny, Nick was a well-composed young man and she told him so as she looked at him from head to toe. She was on her way to take miss tiny for her daily walk and stopped to inquire about how Lorna was feeling.

  Looking Nick up and down again, saying unashamedly that he was a strapping young man, she gave Lorna a big wink. Shuffling down the hall leaving behind the strong scent of Bengay, ignoring the pain in her spider-veined legs, she gleefully told miss tiny that if she were fifty years younger, she would give Lorna a run for her money for that one. Nick smiled, never taking his eyes off Lorna.

  Nervously biting at her lower lip, “Nick…” she said wearily, “I just got back.” She was stammering and she hated it. “I was about to take a bath…” her voice trailed off, as for each step Nick took forward, she took one back.

  He was in her apartment. The door was still open behind him. Nick still had not said anything; he stood as stone piercing her with furious eyes, as that cold smile he gave Miss Patterson was still plastered onto his face.

  Unconsciously swallowing the fear clogging her throat, Lorna’s voice came out in rasping whispers. “I’m…I’m in no mood for this right now, Nick…please.” She heard herself pleading, almost begging him to understand. Just for once, she thought in despair. Just this one time, she silently hoped.

  Old Miss Patterson and miss tiny had finished their daily walk. Stopping in front of Lorna’s door, because it was still open, she could see Lorna gazing up at Nick. She was about to say something when Nick, without turning around, used the back of his heel, slamming the door shut in her face.

  “Come on, miss tiny,” she cooed at the tiny dog in her arms. “Let’s go see if Dallas is on, that Blake Carrington is a strapping young man.” Miss tiny whimpered. Blake Carrington was not on Dallas; he was on Dynasty.

  After the slamming of the door, her apartment echoed with cold chilling silence. Nick was vibrating with a fury that bordered ominously on violence. “Mood,” he said quietly through teeth, that were clenching so hard, his jaw was starting to hurt. Reaching out a hand toward her, Lorna visibly flinched and his hand fell like a weight behind his back. He interlaced them to keep from using them.

  When he spoke again, his voice was a deadly whisper. “I’ve been waiting on you…” he paused as vicious fury scratched at his throat, “…for three whole weeks.”

  Lorna was too afraid to speak. He took a step toward her. She took one back. He continued talking as his hands violently trembled behind his back. “I haven’t heard from you, and you have the gall…” he paused as if he himself could not believe it, “…to tell me you’re not in the mood.” He ended quietly.

  Seconds went by, making the silence in the room even louder. Before she could think to move away from him, he snapped. Moving like the speed of lightening, he grabbed her by the throat. Wide-eyed with a fear she had not felt since being back in her apartment, Lorna stood frozen in fright unable to move if she wanted to.

  His fingers were sensuously gentle around her neck, but she knew from the look in his eyes that he would apply pressure if she tried to move. Fingers still clutching her robe tightly to her chest, Lorna spoke like the little girl she once was, quietly and softly.

  “What do you want, Nick?” She dared not move an inch. As soon as she said his name, his fingers momentarily tightened. She was shaking so badly that Nick loosened his grip on her throat, and then smiled.

  Gently caressing her neck as though it were fragile glass, “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he whispered, piercing her with cold empty eyes. To prove his point, he released her, watching her every move like a hawk. Lorna still had not moved. She was terrified. Nick walked over to her sofa.

  Sitting down, he lightly patted the cushion next to him, “We need to talk.” He said as he waited for her to join him. She stared at him for a brief minute. Though he looked calm, Lorna still saw the anger in his eyes, a
s she unconsciously touched her throat with trembling fingers.

  Moving cautiously to sit next to him, she said nothing. Neither did he. Every once in a while, she would glance at him only to find him staring at her intensely.

  Taking a deep breath, she could not stand the silence anymore. “What do you want to talk about?” She asked gently, not wanting to anger him anymore than he already seemed to be.

  “The wedding,” he said quietly, never moving a muscle.

  “The wedding?” she asked incredulously, looking at him to see if he was serious.

  An eerie cold smile spread across his lips, “we haven’t set the date yet.” He adjusted himself on the sofa to a more comfortable position, and effectively blocked any attempts Lorna could make to leave the apartment. If she wanted to leave, she would have to get past him to get to the front door. Trapped.

  A choking sound was all she could make. Slowly inching to the other side of the sofa, she stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

  “You want to set a date? Now?” she asked quietly, not quite believing what she was hearing. Nick’s smile grew wider as his cold eyes gleamed like black ice.

  He sat back for a brief moment considering her. “I thought you loved me.” Nick’s voice dripped with sarcasm, making loved sound like a nasty word. “That is what you said, right?”

  She could not speak. Her mind was blank from shock, and her heart was beating so fast that she could hear it. She sat wide-eyed, looking at him as if she had never seen him before.

  Nick leaned forward with a faraway look in his eyes. Lorna thought that he had briefly forgotten about her. She made a move to get up, then his hand, cold as steel, reached over gripping her arm so tightly she winced from the pain. He never looked at her, but released her arm when she slowly sat back down.

  “Have I ever told you about my childhood, Lorna?” He inquired politely. He was too polite; the emotional change in him was too sudden.

  Rubbing her arm, she looked at him puzzled, what did his childhood have to do with anything? “Nick…”

  “No,” he said quietly, cutting her off before she could finish speaking. “Don’t say anything,” he demanded softly. “Just listen.” They were both still as granite, Lorna afraid to make a move.

  Nick silently aware of her, though his eyes were not on her, hoped that she would. His body was so tense; Lorna could see the muscles working on his hands each time he flexed his fingers in and out of his tight fists. Lorna had never been afraid of Nick, until now.

  Slowly inhaling, he closed his eyes allowing the dark images from the past to show in vivid color in his mind. When he spoke, his voice was no more than a quiet whisper. Lorna had to focus hard to hear what he was saying to her.

  “You see, Lorna…my mother and I…” his jaws visible and clenched tightly, making the words he spoke even harder to hear, “…we struggled for years.” As if the words he was saying were torture devices, Nick’s hands balled into tight fists, lightly vibrating upon his knees.

  Unable to take her eyes off his tightly held fists, and barely able to hear what he was saying, Lorna hugged herself forcefully. Mentally telling herself she had nothing to be afraid of, that he was telling her about his childhood so if they were to marry, there would be no secrets. She remained quiet, eyeing him like a cornered rabbit. Trapped.

  Nick continued speaking in monotone. His voice was still barely above a whisper despite the tension humming throughout his body. “Because my dad…” Dad. He spit the word out like a foul taste. Starting to speak louder, as his eyes slowly opened with blinding fury shining in them like beacons of bright light.

  “That son of a bitch,” his voice starting to rise a little more. “He just left us,” disbelief ringing in his voice like a bell. He looked at her. Lorna visibly jumped, scooting over away from him because of the evil in his eyes. She was truly terrified.

  Lifting up a little, Nick moved closer to Lorna as if she had not moved. “He walked out of the house.” Saying with a faraway look in his eyes, “And said he would be back.” Lowering his voice to imitate his father, “I need some cigarettes.” He ended sitting straighter on the sofa, with his shoulders back and chin out, as his father must have done. “He left and never came back,” he ended quietly.

  Nick emphasized each word with the amazement of the little boy he once was. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, Lorna started to rock back and forth to comfort herself. Nick pierced her with his eyes.

  “Are you cold?” He asked sweetly. “Would you like me to get you a blanket?” Lorna shook her head no. She was shivering, but not because she was cold.

  Moistening her lips, “Nick, I’m sorry, truly I am, but what does this…”

  Bang! His fist slammed on the coffee table. “I’m not finished, Lorna,” he spoke between clenched teeth. “I am not finish…can I get a word in!” He yelled, pounding his fist on the sofa repeatedly.

  Terrified. “Yah…sure…sure, Nick…sure I’m listening.” Lorna, shivering violently from cold chilling fear, sat frozen. Nick watched her like a hungry predator. The only thing that was missing was wet saliva dripping from his lips. Lorna felt like helpless prey. She swallowed. He smiled.

  Seemingly calm, Nick continued as if he had not reacted violently just seconds ago. “Anyway, my mom was so dependent on him that she couldn’t do without me. Can you imagine that?” Looking at her quizzingly.

  “Her little boy…” his voice had an awe quality about it now, “…had to pick up and take on the role where his father left off.” He gave a sickly laugh at the irony. “Let me tell you something, Lorna…that was not a nice thing for a child,” he paused. “But then after awhile I started to enjoy it.” The awe in his voice sang with a sickness that made her want to vomit violently.

  Lorna could not believe what she was hearing. Her eyes widened as he continued. “I didn’t know a whole lot about sex,” he defended himself. “And at first, I thought my mom shouldn’t teach me about that kind of stuff,” saying it so sheepishly, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. “But boy, oh boy,” he said with the calm glee of a predator. A sick demented smile began to cover his face. He was remembering the joy he felt as a child when riding his bike for the first time without training wheels. “After awhile it became to be okay.”

  He ended quietly, fully facing her with that sick demented smile covering his face from ear to ear. Her mouth fell open in shock. Lorna sat frozen in fear; this had to be a nightmare, she thought. Nick was looking at her through unfocused haunting eyes. His eyes were glazed over as if in a dream. Then slowly, they refocused back onto her, turning icy…cold.

  “Well, from that shocked look on your face, what? Are you thinking incest?” He snorted. Then he gave her that sick smile again shaking his head in denial. “I’d like to think of it as comforting one’s mother,” rationalizing softly. “And I was doing a good job of it until she met Bob,” he viciously said. “Good ole Bob. Bob walked into our lives, and all of a sudden I wasn’t good enough for her anymore.” He sneered angrily.

  Lorna watched as his fist slowly clenched again. “So you know what I did?” saying conspiratorially, thoughtfully, as if she would understand. “When they both lay in bed one night sleeping, I was…” he turned his head as if in deep thought, brows furrowed, “…fourteen, I think, maybe fifteen,” shaking his head on age fifteen. “I torched them,” he smiled chillingly.

  “I torched them good,” focusing, eyes full of rage on her, “How dare she betray me! She was mine! How dare she betray me.” His voice, full of ominous fury, quieted gently. “Then…” his eyes narrowed on her, “You…you do the same thing. You betrayed me too, Lorna,” he whispered, “…you betrayed me too.”

  Lorna was standing now, on shaking legs that would not do what she wanted them to do. Run. Slowly backing away. “Nick…what are you talking about? I’ve never given myself to anyone but you!” she said desperately, seeing him for the first time.

  How could she not have seen the violence in him?
It was there all the time she thought, and she chose to ignore it. Thinking, if I just love him, he would love me back.

  How could she not have seen it, screaming at herself in her head, you are just like your mother, fear whispered. “No!” She whispered in agony. Nick thought she was talking to him.

  “Liar…liar. Liar. Liar. Liar pants on fire.” He sang softly, quietly as his eyes pierced hers with hatred she had never seen before. Slowly standing to his feet, Nick walked toward her slowly, calculatingly.

  Enjoying the hunt, the terror he saw in her eyes made him feel powerful; adrenaline was pumping through him like a drug. He was in control again, he thought, as he continued toward her. I will teach her a lesson she will not soon forget, he silently vowed, smiling sinisterly at the thought.

  Eyes wide with fear, terror skipping through her body with each beat of her heart, “Nick…what are you talking about!” she yelled. Her throat was parched. Dry, as if she was dehydrated. Her legs hit a chair, as she continued walking backward.

  Sneering, “you slept with him…you gave him what was all mine.” He said with deadly calm.

  Disbelief coursed through her body causing her to violently shake all over, as trembling hands covered her face. “My goodness, Nick! He was my father! You think I wanted to be treated like that? How can you say that to me? Oh my gawd…this isn’t happening,” saying in disbelief as her shaking fingers pulled at her face seeking an anchor.

  She was backed flat up against a wall. Terror and fear were racing through her mind in unison and she could not tell them apart. They had her in a tight grip and she could not break free. She was frozen in a dark tormented nightmare.

  “Liar, liar, liar, liar….” He kept calling her a liar over and over again. She shot across the living room into the bedroom. Trying to close the door before he could get to her, her robe caught on the doorknob, allowing him to push into her bedroom. She started screaming.

  Nick viciously slapped her onto the bed. For a moment, her vision started to blur. Her mouth started to bleed like an open wound. Lorna’s mind could not wrap around what was happening to her. Not again, she thought, as his slaps against her face dulled her senses. Not again.