ILLUSIONS - A Short Story

From the first time I saw her, I was bewitched. I had never seen anyone like her before. She held me entirely in her control and I was too weak to break free. Not that I really wanted to. She amazed and delighted me, made my life worth living. She was the only thing that I looked forward to. I was always sorry when the morning came and I had to rush off to work. She visited my every night and all her visits were a joy. And when the tones of my alarm clock would sound, I'd grab for her, but never fast enough. She always managed to slip away into the darkness, and I was always left alone in the world of light. But when the sun had faded from the sky and the moon took over, she was there. There in my mind, my heart, my soul.

I remember the first time I saw her. She had her back to me. Her dark chestnut hair flowing in cascades down her back. And then, she turned and saw me. The blueness of her eyes startled me. It was a clear jewel-like colour and I stood mesmerised. Her lips helf no smile and no grimace. Her forehead was smooth, her skin unblemished. She stood like a pole; tall and straight. Her arms were limp by her sides and she spoke not a word. But her eyes were communicating. I could feel them boring into my own, as if trying to see behind them and into my mind. Nothing around us moved, not a sound was made. It seemed like that moment had lasted a year, as if it could go on forever. But it ended. She turned to go and I found myself running after her, pleading. "No!" I cried. "Please don't go!" But she slipped away, just like she would the next night and the next. I could never catch her and she tormented me me with her eyes.
I was infatuated. She drove me mad, filled me with foolish thoughts and unreasonable longings. I envisioned her everywhere I went, becoming wild and unruly. I couldn't work, I couldn't eat, I couldn't think. She became my worst obsession, an angel from hell.

I always chased after her but I always failed. This made me angry. So I turned to the tempting crystal decanter for help. It had always promised me an escape route and as always, I took it. The liquor sustained me and gave me hope, because when I drank it, I was always on the verge of touching her skin when I chased her every night. And one night, I saw her reflection in my glass. She was lounging against a wall, her lips curved into a mocking smile. Her eyes twinkled and seemed to say, "You can't catch me no matter how hard you try!" I stood up and shouted "I can and I will!" I poured myself another glass of alcohol and drank it in one gulp. When I turned back to her, she was no longer smiling and her eyes were no longer twinkling. I noticed her skin was now tinged a grey colourm and her hair was a charcoal black. Her lips were curled back in a snarl, revealing ugly yellow fangs. When I looked in her eyes, there was no sparkling blueness to greet me. They were now dark and frightening, full of hate and malice. Her fingers were long and gnarled, her nails bloody and dirty. Her body was rigid and her clothes were old and torn. She wasn't even remotely beautiful now. This was not the same person I loved.

"Demon," I whispered.
"I am what you are," she growled, and her eyes travelled to the crystal decanter, which was now empty, and slowly back to me.
"I don't understand you and I don't want to. Get away from me! Go back to your hell, evil spirit!" I cried.
"You wanted me. Now you've got me. I told you, I am what you are," she said, and again she looked at the decanter and back to me. She grinned. "Would it make any difference if I told you that you are what I am?"
I shook my head and reached for the empty decanter. I wanted this monster to disappear and I knew the liquor would help. And when I found that it was empty, I was surprised and enraged. The demon laughed. A low growling sound that made my flesh crawl.
"You won't find any help there. It's all gone, too. All made you into me," she said.
But I was only partly listening. I couldn't believe that I had drunk so much. But did I? I couldn't remember drinking all of it. This had to be a joke. But who made it? My eyes caught sight of the mirror hanging opposite the demon. I moved so I could see myself in it and what I saw made me gasp. A gaunt pale sickly face stared back at me, from the place where a round handsome one should have been. I touched my cheek and so did the person in the mirror. My fingers met cold flabby flesh and hard bone, which, a few months ago, could not have been mine. The demon laughed again.
"Found out, have you? Took you long enough. Do you like what you see? That's how you were helped," she said, in her low rasping voice.
I turned to stare at her but she was gone. I looked all around the rom but she wasn't anywhere. My eyes rested on the empty crystal decanter, which was stil tempting me with a promise of escape, even though it was devoid of contents. But I knew that there was more in the glass cabinet in the next room.
I heard the demon's laugh in my ear and turned around. But there was no one. I saw her face laughing at me in the mirror and turned again. Still there was no one. Her laughter filled the room, my ears, my head. I grabbed the crystal decanter and hugged it close to me, staring wildly around the room. I saw her reflection in the mirror again, turned around and threw the decanter to where she had been standing. I cried out as the crystal crashed against the wall and shards of it went flying everywhere. The laughter stopped and there was only me, on my knees, sobbing and shuddering convulsively.
I fell asleep on the floor that night and nothing bothered me. The blue-eyed beauty didn't visit me and neither did the demon. I was safe.

I didn't see either of them ever again. And I poured out all the liquor in the house, vowing never to drink again. I kept that vow for the rest of my life though I was tempted to break it many times. But self-discipline prevailed.
I became a psychiatrist and married a red-head with green eyes.

- 2002 -

(End of short story)