It's All About Trust

Halfway to the forest area, Rita’s call comes ringing in..

"Hey, what's up?" I ask.

"Nothing much, just curious..."

"I'm still driving, getting more excited by the thought, can barely contain myself..."

"What are you wearing?"

„A purple tight-fitting dress ending just above the knees, black shoes, and a bag. Didn't want to make it too hot right at the start, maybe next time..."

"Jewelry?"

"Just my favorite gold necklace and discreet earrings... Want to know the color of my undies too?" 

Giggle at the other end:

"No need, I bet it's your favorite dark mauve..."

"You got it, with off-black tights... Anyway, go to hell," I add with feigned disapproval. She giggles again, then her tone turns serious.

"Suzie, are you sure this kidnapping roleplay is a good idea, especially at night? Seems risky for a first date, no?"

"I’ve tested the guy a lot on chat, he doesn't seem to be a freak. My female intuition rarely fails me."

"Ted Bundy didn’t seem to be one, either..."

"Oh, come on, trust me, he's reliable. It's just a little game, I get to live out a fantasy, pretending he's kidnapping me, then we go for dinner. I suggested it, he just agreed. We’ve detailed the choreography. We even have a signal; he’ll gíve me a ring a few minutes before he arrives."

"Well, it's up to you, but do call if things go south. And take a puff of the minty vape I gave you if you're too nervous, it’ll relax you. Do get back to me, provided you survive," she adds with a chuckle.

"Okay, definitely," I say laughing, and we hang up.

Ah, Rita... I was really mean to her back at primary school, teasing and harassing the red-haired nerd with my bunch of four. Not that she was ugly. She was rather pretty with her red hair, green eyes, a fierce sense of justice and a sharp mind. I guess she constantly reminded me of my limitations, so I enjoyed humiliating her. Then at high school we went our separate ways, I heard she had successfully enrolled at college, while I skipped it. Then we landed at the same company, me as a lab assistant and she as a chemical engineer. After a period of icy distrust, me being broken and in need of some understanding one evening changed it all, she apparently set aside whatever grudges she might have had against me. Since then we have developed an unlikely friendship, me having won her trust, and she having been a loyal friend, even trusting me too much at times... True, she suddenly quit the job not so long ago... But hush, no distractions, I’ve almost reached my destination.

My excitement grows as I turn onto the road to the edge of forest area, barely able to control my trembling hands. My stomach growls; I only had a biscuit before the date. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to mix fantasy with the first encounter? After all, I didn't even know Richard's voice, we agreed it would be a surprise, and we have only texted. But the urge to lose control and trust someone stronger than me is thrilling... I arrive, pull into the first clearing, and remember Rita’s advice. I take out the pre-charged vape, turn it on, and start puffing, enjoying the pleasant menthol flavour and the nicotine's effect that gives me a real boost. My fingers are drumming excitedly on the steering wheel, constantly checking my phone's display.

The minutes pass slowly, then the phone rings, displaying Richard's name. My body buzzes with excitement as I get out of the car and stand by the door, listening to the approaching car’s hum, then the slamming door. Footsteps are approaching behind me, then someone presses a blunt object against my back. I raise my hands in mock surrender, and my "attacker" pulls my arm back, then shoves me into the car, getting in beside me. Suddenly, I feel my left arm being grabbed and something being injected forcefully. I yelp with pain; this wasn't part of the plan. And the figure dressed in black cotton trousers and jacket and gloves, complete with a ski mask doesn’t look like a man at all. Then the mask’s lips start moving:

„Feels good, huh?”

"Rita?!" I ask, stunned.

"Yes, honey, unfortunately, Rickie is pure fiction, it’s me you were texting with all along. It took a damn lot of work to set up a fake profile, with photos and everything."

"What ... what are you up to?"

"Nothing really, the full nicotine dose in the e-liquid I've injected will do its job quickly. It’ll take about half an hour or even less."

"And you... you call yourself my friend..."

"Fair enough, I owe you an explanation... Look, after primary school, I had to see a therapist for years because of you. High school finally got me rid of you, I focussed on studying and got my degree. When we ended up at the same workplace and I saw you, my stomach knotted. But that evening, when your current boyfriend left you and you needed a shoulder to cry on, I gave you another chance. I genuinely pitied you, saw your good side, and believed you when you said you had just been jealous of me back then. I sincerely meant our friendship, trusted you, and was loyal. Until I found out you were messing with Dave behind my back and then dumped him shortly after. I didn’t know this, but recently I found his old phone, so don't deny it..." 

("Oh crap, Dave...", comes the thought, as I feel the effects of nicotine overdose plus the paralysing mental shock, my stomach churning, dizziness setting in, and my breath becoming laboured.)

"So sweetie, if I hadn't stepped in, what next? Would you have tried to kill me? I had to stop you. Your treachery has even made me change my job, I couldn't bear staying any longer with you there...”

She gently runs a hand through my hair. 

„I don't hate you, maybe I even pity you, but it's just too much... I surely feel bad doing this, but justice has to be served. And I wanted you to feel betrayed, just like I was. I bet you still don’t feel sorry for anything you did," Rita continues in a calm, quiet voice.

"I’m feeling bad about... everything... But what about... you and Dave?" I stammer, feeling the end getting near.

"Don’t worry about that. I’ve managed to win him back. Maybe I'm more than just the workaholic he called me in his messages. Before I left, he had complained about insomnia, so I got him to take a strong sleeping pill, which will knock him out until noon tomorrow, it’s Sunday after all, he can sleep in. I lay next to him until he fell asleep... And you've now been through a break-up, your new guy didn’t show up for a date, you're prone to getting emotionally unstable at night, so out of desperation, you injected yourself with the liquid. Don’t worry, I’m still your friend, I’ll stay with you until your last breath... And behold, even your date fantasy is fulfilled..."

The last words are sounding muffled, as if from behind a screen. My senses are getting duller, my heartbeat slower, and I feel like I’m falling. I don’t hate Rita, not even in my last moments. For sure she’s right, and let's be honest, I probably deserve this fate as the scheming, self-centred, thrill-obsessed vixen that I am. But damn, does it all have to end with her mocking voice ringing in my ears?

Even if I wanted to, now I couldn’t signal to her that I have hidden a tiny battery-operated voice recorder in my bra. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea, I turned it on just before the expected date, hoping it might capture some noise from the "kidnapping" as a memento and to fuel my fantasy. Anyway, with her inflated sense of justice and verbose over-confidence, Rita just deserves some tribulation that will only make her better if they find the device. After all, "The path of the righteous is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish", or something like that. Faulty as I’ve been, I’ve definitely played my part in helping her on her path...