Final Day

“Today’s the day I change.” I sipped coffee and clinked the cup to the saucer.

“Uh-huh.” Michael’s eyes never left the page of his financial magazine. The glint of light from his gold wedding band danced as he turned the page.

I bit my lip, rubbing the blue cloth napkin between my fingers. I needed to tell him; tell him it was time.

Tilting my head, I studied his features, his long aristocratic nose from his great grandmother, his full lips I longed to kiss one last time, and his slender fingers. Oh, those fingers knew their way around every crevice of my body. I shivered and throbbed as I remembered his touch from just the night before.

He let his hair grow out over the last few months, styling it upward from his crown in kinky, curly twirls, just the way it was when I first met him four years ago. I longed to go back in time, to experience his eagerness to see me when he came to the door. That first kiss, the breathless desire that percolated between us. 

Twisting my mouth sideways, I tapped my fingers on my coffee cup. Hmmm. How should I approach this?

“How about a slice of lemon meringue?” I got up and opened the refrigerator.  My thick soled loafers swooshed across the tiled floor.

“Huh?” Michael glanced up, then back to focus on whatever was so important in that blasted magazine. “No thanks, Honey. Save me a piece for tomorrow.”

I sliced into the yellow and white dream, licking my fingers after flopping a gooey mess onto my plate. Tomorrow? If only.

As I carried the plate to the table, I froze in place, watching my thumb swirl a gelatinous purple hue for a second before regaining its brown structure. Exhaling, I made it back to the table in one piece. Staring at the deliciousness before me, my mouth watered. I hoped it was saliva as I wasn’t quite ready.

I savored each bite of the pie. Each forkful lingered in my mouth, against my teeth. My tongue tasted the tangy lemony goodness. This was the day, there was no getting around it. If I didn’t complete my task tonight, there would be no more todays. But what of Michael? 

Michael didn’t know, didn’t know what was to come. He couldn’t. Will there be acceptance or rejection? Will he be happy for me? For us? 

He will always be a part of me, two souls as one.

I felt a trickle down my cheek, ending at the crease of my lips. What’s this? My finger wiped away the salty offense.  This was supposed to be a glorious occasion, one I’d been looking forward to ever since I met him.

Putting the plate and fork in the sink, I lifted my head to see my reflection staring back at me in the window, thankful the darkness hid the ugly brick wall of the neighboring building. If I don’t do this now, I will never do it. All would be lost.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped in front of Michael and put a hand on the top of the magazine.

“What’s up, Honey?” His dark eyes held the question longer than the echo of his words.

“Michael, you know I love you, right?” I put the magazine on the table.

“Of course.”

I took both of his hands in mine, pulling him to stand facing me.

“There’s something I’ve got to tell you.” 

His brow furrowed, searching my face. Then his face brightened with a wide grin.

“Are you…? Oh my God, are we…?” He grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Oh, no, Michael, no.” I exhaled and pinched my lips together.

His shoulders drooped and my heart sank too, pondering for only a second what kind of offspring we would create if it were possible. This wasn’t going as smoothly as I’d hoped. I cleared my throat.

“I’m changing tonight.”

“Changing? Changing what? Your hair?” He began to turn away, obviously not understanding what was happening. I grabbed his hands and held tight.

“Michael, this, what you see, is not me.” I rolled my eyes. “Well, it’s me, but not the full me.”

“The full you…what on earth are you talking about, Alana?” He scrunched his face and tried to pull his hands from mine. I didn’t let go. “Alana, you’re hurting my hands.”

“I know. It will hurt initially, especially if you fight, but it’ll all be over soon. I don’t want you to suffer.”

“Don’t want me to suffer!” He tugged harder. “Alana, let go of my hands!” 

The pain in his eyes made me uncertain I should do this. If I didn’t, I could not survive. My mind whirled with thoughts of my life without him. Could I find someone else? Who did I know that I could bond with now? To fall in love with and make him or her a part of me, within hours? Minutes? No, not time.  There was no one I wanted to spend my life with more than Michael. He was my life, my essence.

I needed to do it now, with someone I loved, someone who loved me, with Michael.

My hold softened. I wasn’t paying attention and Michael freed himself from my grip. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I hoped we could have been in a warm embrace, his lips touching mine as I transformed. His dark eyes longing for me, his groin pressed against mine.

“Michael, please don’t resist.” I pulled his hands to my chest and grabbed him around his waist, swaying his body with mine.

“Alana! Alana, my god, no!” He pushed against me. A futile attempt.

My skin felt heavy. I lifted my hands and found them marbelizing into a purple, brown goop. Michael recoiled, his eyes wild and frantic told me it was happening. I was changing, and Michael was horrified.

The venom was swift. It reached him before he could take another step. My long thin glutenous tongue lashed out within milliseconds, reaching its target. 

He careened backward and collapsed to the floor, his head bouncing off the tile. Stunned, he groaned but was motionless. My venom saw to that.

My emptiness intensified as I melted down, my solid structure, gone. I slid across the floor, my body a silky mucus reflecting light across the kitchen. My length increased.  A ball of deep purple reached his left foot, encasing it. 

Michael’s scream bit into my core. The venom I gave him should have numbed his body completely. He was strong. I had to work quickly. I didn’t want him to suffer.

I slipped myself over him, his pulsating body vibrating mine, exciting me into a frenzy to take him fully. His strength allowed me to form my right hand. I touched his cheek, caressing his open lips. His eyes filled with terror. I gasped goo as I watched his face go lifeless before we became one. 

My body pulsed and squished during absorption, my edges squeaking the tile. Unsatisfied, I rolled over and continued to digest and soak up his energy.

I waited for warmth and fulfillment to come. Wasn’t it supposed to be immediate gratification? I had only one chance at this! Where was his affection for me?

My shriek vibrated the walls, knocking over several glasses in the cabinet. Purple-green droplets hit the floor. The ache inside me intensified and the emptiness returned. How could I have been so foolish? I needed to take him in a passionate moment. Instead, he was repulsed, disgusted by my conversion.

Gelatin flattened, turning green as I spread across the room. A thin bubble sprouted from my body, popping, and expelling my last breath.

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