The Wrong Sister

Fifteen months after moving in with Mariska, I felt comfortable enough to get a bike. I promised Mariska I’d text her whenever I went out and that I wouldn’t go out every single day. “I just need the fresh air and exercise,” I told her, “and while the patio may have the fresh air, it doesn’t have the exercise.” “I understand you feeling cooped up and the need to escape every now and then,” Mariska said. The person behind “Angel of Vengeance” had proven untraceable and couldn’t be connected to Lisa for certain. Mariska assured me that it could’ve been anyone and that we could never know their true intentions, but I still had a feeling that Lisa was somehow behind it. Just the fact that they couldn’t be traced was enough to raise a red flag right there. I mean, maybe she hadn’t been behind it, but I was tired of letting the threat of her existence stop me from living my life. She’d denied me my freedom as if I were the criminal and not the victim, and I was going to take some of my freedom back, if only with a few bike rides each week. Armed with a can of mace and a smartphone, I went one day to the local bakery. I locked my bike outside and treated myself to a caramel-frosted donut and a latte. Then I decided to do a little shopping at the nearby mall. I cycled over to the bike stands, locked my bike, and went inside. I browsed through rows of clothing and quickly found a cute dress I wanted to try on. I took the colorful garment over to the fitting rooms. I looked around for an attendant but didn’t see anybody. After waiting a few minutes, I decided to just go ahead and try it on. There were eight fitting rooms in total, four on each side. I walked to one of the ones in the back and shut myself inside. I tried on the dress and decided it wasn’t a great fit. I was just pulling my jeans back on when I heard the voices. Angry voices. Scary voices. I pressed my back against the wall, my heart taking off on a run. “Yo, I want my fucking money, man, and I want it now.” “I told you, Homie, I ain’t getting paid till the day after tomorrow.” “I ain’t your fucking Homie.” “No, but yous a dead motherfucker if I don’t get paid by tomorrow. Nobody does business with me without sticking to our deal.” “I’ll pay up as soon as I can, I swear.” “If you don’t, somebody’s going to hurt that fine little ass of yours that you’ve been banging lately.” “Aw, man, leave my girl out of it. Your beef is wit me.” Slowly, without making a sound, I crept to the door of the fitting room. I didn’t want to get too close to the crack at the side of the door and make my presence known. I could only hope to hell they didn’t notice one of the doors was shut. I saw a blur of movement through the crack but was afraid to get any closer. Instead, I stepped back toward the back wall of the fitting room. I just didn’t want to get caught in the middle of anything bad. “Damn right my beef is on you, man. If you don’t get that money to me by tomorrow, you’re so dead that not even your mama will recognize you.” My heart jackhammered in my chest as a slew of swear words and punches were suddenly thrown. Something heavy clanked to the floor just outside the door as the voices retreated from the fitting room. My guess was that the guy being attacked managed to run and his attacker had given chase. Why the hell this shit had to start in the women’s fitting room of all places was beyond me. I quickly gathered the dress and my handbag and pulled the door open before they could return. I looked down at the ground. A small gray pistol had hit the floor during the scuffle. Without thinking, I quickly snatched it up and stuffed it in my oversized handbag. I then realized I'd better get the hell out of there before they realized the gun was missing. Acting as naturally as I could, I returned the dress to the rack I had gotten it from. This was quite a ways from the fitting rooms, but not so far that I couldn’t see the black kid in his late teens to early twenties enter the fitting rooms. He was undoubtedly the one who had dropped the gun. I felt a pang of regret for taking it, but it was too late. I had to get out of there. It wasn’t until I was out of the store and on my bike that I moved as quickly as possible, pedaling as furiously as my legs would allow. Ten minutes later, I was letting myself into Mariska’s condo, never gladder that she was at work. I went straight to my room and flopped down on the bed, struggling to catch my breath. I stared up at the ceiling, feet still planted on the floor. Now, why the hell had I taken the damn gun? This deadly weapon might have killed an untold number of people. What if it had been used in past crimes? I knew the proper thing to do would be to turn the gun over to Mariska as soon as I could. Instead, after sitting there for what seemed like forever, I shoved the pistol under my mattress, used the bathroom, then got a cold drink and opened my laptop. An email awaited me from Yur Mine. I thought to myself how it sure didn’t take long for spammers to find new email addresses. I almost deleted it, but for some reason, I clicked on it instead. All the body of the email contained was a few words: “I miss your diary.” My stomach flip-flopped. It had to be her. It had to be. I thought of the gun under my mattress. If Lisa were dead, then I would never have to fear her again. I knew the correct thing to do would have been to alert Mariska about the email and the gun, but I wasn’t stupid—and neither was Lisa. She wasn’t going to let even the best computer techies trace anything back to her. She’d probably had someone she trusted create her own private proxy rather than go to the library or something. If she went to the library and the librarian was later questioned, she might be able to describe Lisa. This way, Lisa could do whatever she wanted from the privacy of home without any witnesses or paths tracing back to her. Then an idea came to me. If she wanted to play, I would play right along with her. Me:Heeeeyyy, this is Gracie, isn’t it? Yur Mine:Right on! How did you know? Me:You’re the only one I gave the email address to that was on the diary site. Yur Mine:So what happened to you? Where have you been, and what are you up to? Me:I’m just living life and enjoying it immensely. And you? Yur Mine:I’m missing my ex, who isn’t really my ex. Me:Funny you should mention that, because so am I. Didn’t know you even had an ex who wasn’t really your ex. I was under the impression you were happily single for some reason. Yur Mine:Oh, gosh, no. I have a beautiful little lady that’s positively fucked in the head, but I still love her just the same. She can’t help the way she is, after all. Me:Haha, she sounds delightful. Yur Mine:She is. I can’t wait to get my mouth on that sweet little pussy of hers. Me:Oh? Yur Mine:Oh, yeah. :-) Me:But if she’s fucked in the head, what’s the point? Yur Mine:Nobody’s perfect. It’s important to remain loyal and love the one we’re with and accept them as they are. Me:You guys separated now? Yur Mine:You could say that, but we’ll be together again real soon. Me:How can you be so sure? Yur Mine:I know right where she is. Me:Why do I get the impression that she doesn’t want you to know where she is? Yur Mine:Well... Me:Better not to seek out those who would prefer not to be sought out, lest they shoot us or some crazy shit like that. Does she know how to shoot a gun, Gracie? Yur Mine:As a matter of fact, she does. I’m the one who taught her. Me:Well, don’t make her mad enough to do what you taught her to do then. Yur Mine:She doesn’t have a gun. Me:You never know. People change. Times change. Things change. People get fed up. People get tired. People get tired of running. People get tired of living in fear. People get pissed. Pissed people get dangerous. Yur Mine:You sound rather sure of yourself. Me:LOL I waited a minute to see if Lisa would carry on her role as “Gracie,” a name I had simply made up on the spot. Me:Are you still there? Yur Mine:I am. Me:Let’s get together, Lisa. Yur Mine:Haha, how did I get to be Lisa? Me:Don’t underestimate me, you stupid piece of shit. Yur Mine:Wow, aren’t we a brave one? Me:Braver than you know. I’m through running from you. They say it’s best to confront and face our demons. I’m ready to deal with you now. Yur Mine:There’s nothing to really deal with, is there? Me:Oh, I think there is. Yur Mine:What do you feel I need to deal with? Me:Me. Yur Mine:Haha, you really think you can just take me on, huh? Me:I’ll come to your condo, and we’ll find out. What day and time is good for you? Yur Mine:Why don’t you come over now? Me:Can’t. I’ll see you late tonight. Yur Mine:You’re on. You have until around midnight to show up, otherwise I will personally pay you and Mariska a visit. I sat back in my chair, shaking, my heart thumping like a trapped fish in my chest. I tried to calm myself down by taking deep breaths, but my adrenaline was pumping furiously. There was no hiding from this bitch. Ever. She needed to be killed. There was no way around it. It was the only way to set myself free of her once and for all. If I didn’t, I would be the one eventually killed. When I finally calmed down enough, I deleted my browser history.