DAMSEL: A DISTRESS.

As I kept staring at the wall behind the crowd and felt myself zoning out at that one question, I felt my past nightmares coming back to haunt me in broad daylight. The voices of the curious people around were soon deafened out and the sight I saw wasn’t really what I was seeing in reality.

I stood there amidst the jealous wolves and the curious kittens surrounded by air that reeked of money, cigars, and mistresses. I stood there with recognition to my work in my hands and a question in my mind and a burdened past in my heart. I stood there baffled by that one gnarly question.

“Who is the person behind your success?”

Trust me when I say this- I don’t know either.

I often find myself going back to think about the past and wonder how it all went wrong and when it all started to go wrong. But, no matter how hard I try I could never seem to find what exactly happened.

Maybe it was always there…hidden, waiting in silence.

Maybe it didn’t hide; maybe it was always there…maybe I never paid it any mind.   

But I still rue the day I sought it out.

I remember a quaint family, loving parents, and a pretty little girl who was the heart and soul of the house and a mischievous young little boy. I remember a tiny apartment and a car that barely was a car. I remember plain cream walls defaced with crayon scribbles. I remember painting adorned doors and glued together remotes and an armoire filled to the brim with toys, so filled that only the mother could accomplish to close it.

I remember a father that worked 3 jobs, came home tired, and still found the energy to paint with his princess. I remember the tiniest kitchen, where the tastiest foods came from.

I remember a house filled with squeals and laughter and screams of the two young bloods.

I remember only good things ...but let's think again.

Where are you, monster?

Thinking about it all again and remembering several photos from the album…I realize the monster was right there.

I remember the doors always being closed because the screams inside were too loud.

I remember the glued together remotes because the remotes were always broken. That's what happens to things when you throw them- they break.

I remember the saltiness in the food and the tears that caused them, yet I don’t remember the reason that caused the tears.

There you are… Hello, old friend.

I remember…I remember it all… 

 I was brought back to reality by someone shaking the nightmares away from me by my shoulder.

I turned around and observed my surroundings and then realized that I still haven’t answered the question.

“I’m sorry…the question was...? “  I asked, stretching my hand out and pointing at the guy who came up with such a mindful and well thought out question.  

 “Who is the person behind your success?” he asked me yet again.

“Well, the success of this project is purely because of my fellow co-workers and my hardworking team; we may have countered with several hurdles…” I paused to look at the crowd.

Oh, I know my project didn’t mess itself up.

“… We worked together as a team and we are where we wanted ourselves to be...Here, getting this award for our hard work.” I finished with a smile.

I thought I could leave after this, but no…. the world loves me too much.

“But ma’am…” another reporter raised her hand.

  My bodyguard was getting restless and my assistant just let out the biggest sigh, I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Yes?” 

“We wanted to know about the person behind your success….we know the company is doing pretty well, of course…” she continued.

Bitch…I don’t know.

I smirked…yet again.

Recently quite a lot of rumors have been going around, and I am enjoying people being jealous.

“Don’t worry, I’m still single...” I said with a smirk and winked at the crowd.

My bodyguard guided me outside and away from the curious crowd.

I found myself waiting in the back of the place for my car. It was pretty dark and cold outside; most of the lights were switched off.

Oh, the things I do to avoid human contact. Its middle school all over again.

The alleyway wasn’t entirely dark. It had sufficient moonlight to show me where I stepped and me being me, hoped it wasn’t shit. It was engulfed by this soothing darkness- not too dark to frighten the living daylights but not too bright to exactly capture the scene.

But there was this one corner next to the garbage bins… too dark for even reality to register. I found myself staring curiously at it.    

When I suddenly heard a deep voice resonate from the dark corner, and a figure stepped out.

“You twat…you are back,” I said and got a deep laugh in turn as a reply.

“Missed me?” he asked  

I Turned to look at the dark, a tall figure stepped out and took its place next to me. I saw his cream shirt and blue tie trying to peek out of his brown trench coat. He stood there with his hands in his pocket and his hair slicked back with an impassive face.

“How can I not?” I replied.

The comforting darkness was broken by the two bright headlights of my car. As I moved towards it, I motioned him to follow. We got in the rear seat and the car began to drive off. I rested my head back and let out a content yet tired sigh and closed my eyes.

The person behind my success is right here, sitting right next to me.

This was not a harlequin romance story, this was quite similar to Harley Quinn’s romance.

 I was a troubled rich kid, divorced parent, dead mother, mentally disturbed brother who spent most of his life away from humanity in a lonely desolate boarding school with bullies.

A kid so troubled, I was deemed unsafe for the public.

I spent an entire summer in a facility, for the mentally ill, but my father was rich.

Instead of leather restraints and straitjackets, I was put in fluffy cuffs and satin laces- not because I was rich but because I fell in love with my therapist.

Ironically, he was named my rapist- purely because he was older than me.

After spending a decade within the walls and iron bars, he came out yesterday.

And for a man who spent almost 10 years in jail, he looked quite fine and striking.

“ You didn't have to sneak into the meeting…” I said

“ hmm…”

“ Someone could’ve seen you...” I continue 

“ hmm…” he responds with no words.

I sigh, turning away from him.

Harvey turns the radio up and looks at me through the rearview mirror.

“ you should listen to this..” he says.

“Convicted rapist and felon- Vincent ‘ Vinny’ Argento, said to have escaped yesterday, remains unknown. Police personnel advises citizens to stay safe and report any trespassers immediately. Beware and proceed with caution. This man is said to be very dange…”

“ That’s quite enough…” he gritted his teeth.

Harvey and I shared a look.

“ Why don't we head to our alley ?” I ask him batting my eyelashes

He agrees grumpily.

This was the alley where we used to sneak into after I was sent released from the institution.

His eyes lit up seeing the alley and he was the first to get down from the car.

I looked at Harvey and nodded at him before getting down.

Merely seconds later Vinny stood opposite to an angry Harvey.

Harvey trembling with anger and the gun in his hand shaking ever so lightly.

I, on the other hand, seated comfortably on the hood of the car, legs folded and watching the drama unfold.

“SHE TOLD ME EVERYTHING YOU, B**CH… YOU MANIPULATIVE B**CH...” Harvey screamed at him.

Vinny was visibly shaken, he tried convincing Harvey that I “ had my evil fingers wrapped around his brain”

And as expected Vinny lunged at Harvey with a knife he always has stuffed in his sock.

Even though I told Harvey not to beat around the bush and just pull the trigger, and of course, he had to screw up.

At times, I can't believe the idiots I’ve slept with.

I remember my father always telling me - “ want something done, get your as* up and go do it yourself…”

It was always his iconic line, it was so iconic that he said it whilst plunging the knife several times into my mother and stood towering over her gasping body lying on a growing pool of blood.

I still remember when the cops dragged him away.

I sigh at the thought of simpler times.

I proceed to jump down from the hood of the car, walk towards the brawling monkeys and hold Vinny’s arm before he can deliver the blow. I look down at Harvey on the ground, choking for his dear life.

“ Now, what did I tell you…” I ask Harvey, knocking the knife away from Vinny's hand.

“You psychoti...” before he could finish his sentence, I’ve sunk three bullets into his skull.

His lifeless body falls to the ground near Harvey and he scoots away from it clutching his side.

I walk toward him, I can see the fear in his eyes. I kneel near him and help him take his jacket off.

I cup his face gently, look into his eyes, and tell him -” Harvey… I … I want you… to slap me as hard as you can”

He is visibly taken aback.

“ Do it…” I say sternly, with a look on my face that I know can freeze his blood.

He slaps me and winces in pain.

My ears ring for a moment and my eyes blur up, I feel tears rolling down my cheeks.

He is shaken and moves towards me to comfort me.

Can you believe this idiot…? Bleeding his internals out and yet trying to comfort me… I scoff internally. This idiot deserves to die.

“ There’s one more thing I want you to do… ``I say.

“ Anything...anything for you… “ he says cupping my cheek.

“I want you to take the blame…”  I say, knowing fully that he won't.

“... please… think about my future… our future…” I say.

I need more… 

I swiftly grab his hand and place it on my stomach.

“... think about our baby’s future…” I say with my expressions softer than ever.

His blinks once… twice.. Say the word “ what” a couple of times...is confused… but his confusion turns to happiness soon.

And trust me, if I could feel any happiness, I would too.

He pulls me in for a hug and asks me all these questions about when and how and where… I simply mumble out. If he knew me any better, he’d know that I never mumble.

Ahh, the poor idiot.

I hug him close, hearing the faint sound of the sirens approaching us.

This is the last act.

No charges were placed on him because as far as the public is concerned, he was just a loyal chauffeur protecting his boss from her former assaulter.

He was a hero.

The ladies loved him, the papers even more.

He had severe internal bleeding due to the multiple stabs to the torso.

I had to hire a very expensive board of medical professionals, cause, well… public stunt.

I asked the doctors to report to me directly- also a public stunt and let’s just say… future planning.

The doctors reported that he’s doing well and responding to the treatments and he can be sent home in a week or two.

Well, that bad.

They also told me that he’s gonna be monitored very closely as the internal bleeding can cause a clot and maybe even a stroke.

Now, that’s interesting.

Just two days later, I walked into his room with an empty syringe in my purse and a bribed nurse by my side. She’s also going to “ mix up “ his medicines accidentally tomorrow if this doesn't work.

I sit near him on the bed, hug him close and dearly.

Just twelve hours and two huge checks - titled ‘donation’ to the doctors association, he was pronounced dead. The report read “ stroke caused by blood clot” and I looked extremely stunning in a black dress.

The newspapers and articles had his name plastered everywhere as a hero. As a hero who protected his boss and took down a child molester who ravaged 13 kids.

Wait, 13? I didn't know that… maybe I should tell the papers that I was the one who killed the guy… both of them, actually. All of them, to be precise.

Or maybe  I should write an autobiography under an alias.

Besides, who is ever gonna believe that a lady killed people, in this misogynistic world.

Maybe someday when you read my completed autobiography you’ll know my name, and who I was and who killed my family… I type hopefully.