Eternal Love: Beynika Oneshots

Around The Way Girl

Onika Maraj
12:08 AM

The rain kneaded the dirt on my windows as it began to pour from the sky. With my nose piercing the air, I inhaled the fresh sign of nature having its way with the world - washing it of the filth that us human had cluttered it with. Every so often, I felt that the rain was necessary. It was the earth's shower, much like the long, therapeutic ones I found myself getting lost in on nights like the one ahead.

In my hand was a glass of chilled wine. The final note of berries and alcohol caused a slight tingling feeling that lingered long after I'd lowered it to my bare leg. The silk pajama short set that I'd squeezed into was everything I'd imagined when I ordered it from the online boutique that my girl group had suggested. They'd never steered me wrong and doubted they'd ever start.

Through the speaker that played throughout my apartment, I listened while Amel Larrieux'svoice serenaded me. There was just something about the way she carried her emotions within her words, leaving you wondering just how much of the hurt she spoke about she'd actually experienced. Maybe it was all of it. From the raw, unfiltered distress that was imbedded in each vocal note, it was almost obvious. However, I wouldn't wish pain on my worst of enemies, so I refused to place those burdens on Amel.

What the hell? I quizzed, removing my legs from beneath me and swinging them around until they contacted the tattered wood of my second-floor apartment. While it wasn't the matte wood flooring of my condo in the hills that I'd dreamt of several nights a week - each week - it was close enough and all that my pockets could afford at the moment.

The jiggling of my doorknob quickly forced me to my feet. Before I was able to rest the glass of wine on the coffee table beside me, my door flew open, causing me to chastise myself, instantly. Kenya was adamant about me locking up when she left out, but I'd forgotten - much like I always did. There were some nights that I laid down to rest and woke with my door unlocked. My friends always teased me that someone would walk in on me one day if I didn't start remembering to lock up.

Today was the day.

The red liquid spilled on the white, thin silk top, running down my chest and causing a slight chill. Dumbfounded, I was immobilized standing in my front room as a thick, long figure covered in black came huffing through my door. While I wanted to scream and demand it return to wherever the hell it had come from, the medical professional in me immediately leaped from my skin at the sight of blood - lots of it.

"Shit," a distraught tenor groaned.

"Excuse me," I rushed out as loud as my beating heart.

Before responding, she gripped her side, where the blood seemed to originate, and slammed her back against my door until it connected to its frame with a thud. At the sight of her dewy skin and overly beautiful facial features - which were partially knotted due to the amount of pain I was certain she was in - the creases that had formed in my forehead ceased.

I knew her. I knew this woman. Well, not exactly, but I'd seen her around since I'd moved into the building. She didn't live anywhere around here, I figured. I'd never seen her around for more than a few hours before disappearing. It was usually downstairs when I was on my way to work or coming home from working overtime. I'd heard many things about her, indirectly of course.

From the girls in the hallways, cheeks flushed and foreheads beaded with sweat from a mere encounter with her, to the owner of the bodega on the corner. She was the topic of many discussions I'd walked through. And, every so often when she graced my sight, I was reminded of why. As inimitable as they came, the hazel would make any conversation more interesting.