Ehnee's Body
Short Fiction
Silence had become a little jarring to me since my roommate moved out. It wasn’t because I missed the obnoxious sounds of her headboard banging or the grunts of her lover of the week. It was the sheer loneliness of being the only living thing in my apartment.
I thought about the dreaded silence as I trudged through the Upper East Side to the subway to Brooklyn. Should I go out tonight for drinks or save up? I knew the answer considering my current finances, but the thought of the silence was crushing. I missed my brother and my mother and made a mental note to do a group call later tonight. I wanted to see their faces and hear their raucous laughter. I needed to figure out a way to scrounge up the cash to buy a ticket to see them and escape my least favorite time in NYC, winter.
I didn’t want to go back to bartending but the quick cash would definitely resolve my issues—
My thoughts were interrupted by the most stunning gilded mirror. I walked closer to it to inspect if it was worth carrying through the city. It was the perfect size for my hallway. I dragged my fingers across the frame marveling at the level of detail.
It had the most elegant depiction of human bodies intertwined. Etched into it were soft lips on tiny faces, figures with tender bellies, and others with bodacious bosoms. The women weren’t sculpted in a way that appealed to the beauty standards of now but it was almost impossible to look away. They looked real, tender, delicious, and fulfilled. The male sculptures weren’t all 6 pacs and chiseled muscles either. My favorite part was how every single person depicted was touching another. Some touched lips. Others were layered over another lying in what looked like post sexual bliss. It made me a little jealous, to be honest. I wanted to be one of the fixtures glowing in the warmth of post-orgasmic euphoria.
Before I knew it I had picked up the gilded mirror and continued home. I had also decided to stay in tonight and probably every night until I had come up with a proper solution to my finances and tragic lack of intimacy; clearly, I had some seeing as to how the mirror elicited such a strong reaction.
In my apartment, I set it down. At first near the door but I quickly find the perfect spot for it in my living room. I rest it down and decide to roll a spliff. I need to melt into my couch today. I need to melt away the loneliness. I throw some old takeout in the microwave and light up. Inhale the smoke exhale troubles. It is a nice mantra—a sort of meditation. Time slips away from me.
In the morning I awake on the couch and watch my reflection in the mirror. It’s true, I should know better than to sleep there but the bed feels too big with just me. I walk past the mirror and gently rub my fingers against its folded frame caressing the gentle curves of bodies too soft to be made of metal. Before I know it my phone rings and it’s 30 minutes later than it’s supposed to be!
“Mom!”
“Girl, did you forget to call me yesterday?”
“Ugghhh! I am so so sorry Mom. I got home, swamped, and just lay on the couch and passed the hell out. I’ll make it up to you I promise!”
“Ehnee, you lucky I love you because–”
“I know. I know,” I cut her off as I hurry to brush my teeth. “But mom I really do have to run. I’m running late for work! Oh and remind me to send you a picture of this mirror I found yesterday. It’s perfect.”
“Mirror, girl? And what do you mean found? Don’t tell me you picking up garbage off the street again! What have I told you–”
“Love you too Mom. Call you later. XOXO!” I rush to work eager to be back home already.
By the time I make it home all I can think about is taking a shower and eating the two slices of pizza I had saved in the fridge. I turn on the TV but my eye is drawn to the mirror and I think there is a perfect spot in my bedroom for the massive beauty. I stop eating my pizza, grab some nails, and get to hanging it up. My landlord would probably hate me for this but that fucker never shows up when I ask so he can kiss my Black ass.
I spread across my bed appreciating my handiwork and the way the setting sun strikes across the mirror. I am exhausted. Always exhausted.
I wake up at 3 am. I can’t recall the last time I fell asleep on my bed. It was probably the week my roommate left. I check my phone and see two missed calls. One is from my mom the other from my brother. My neighbors are playing such loud and terrible music as always. In the bathroom, I brush my teeth and step into the damp shower. Every part of my body is sore and the warm water helps melt away the soreness. The blue couch is waiting for me. I curl up on it and shut down to get some rest before work tomorrow.
In the morning I walk into my room and snap a photo of my mirror. I send them to my mom and apologize for forgetting to call her last night.
Mom: That is one ugly thing girl
Me: Mom you are definetlllyyyy dragging this. It is so cute. You just too old to get it
Mom: where did u hang this?
Me: My bedroom
Mom: girl!! You know better than to hang a random mirror you got off the street in your bedroom
Me: …. Plz relax okay it’s just a mirror
Mom: better safe than sorry okay
Me: sure mom. I’ll take it down soon okay. Ttyl
Mom’s will be moms I guess. Work was a drag as usual. By the time I made my way home, I just wanted to melt away into nothingness. I showered again and lay on the bed doom scrolling.
I am standing in front of a large lake. It is incredibly still. If I weren’t standing on the grass at its edge I would think I were staring at a mirror. Behind me is a forest that is dense. I turn to look behind me and it is only then that I hear the sounds of jubilation snaking through the trees. There is laughter. There is the sound of human bodies jostling, screeching, slicing through the tension that hangs around forests. I am running towards the trees but the faster I pump my arms the slower time moves. Then I finally burst through the trees and tumble. Thorns scratch my thighs and tree branches wack my head but I keep moving towards the sounds of Jubilation and I can see them in the clearing only now time has started its molasses crawl again.
Of course, my neighbors are blaring music at 7 am on a Saturday. I would be upset except I have a long day ahead and the early start isn’t the worst thing ever. My body feels like it is a bag of sand and my head is pounding. I stretch and find that my thighs are tender except I don’t recall hitting them anywhere yesterday. There is the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that there is something I am supposed to be remembering but the harder I try to grasp it the farther into obscurity it buries itself. In the kitchen sink, there are two wine glasses that I don’t remember placing in the sink. Maybe I should lay off the weed for a bit.
By the time evening rolls around I am drained. New York City has a special energy-zapping power although it tricks you to thinking that it does not. When you’re on the subway, in the streets, zooming through the city you are buzzing with energy but really you are just a conduit for the city’s feral energy. I hate being used and I think when it comes down to it this city makes me feel used. Perhaps my visit to my family should be a permanent move. I sit on the edge of the bed and pull out my phone.
In the forest, I am steps away from the clearing. Except now it is covered by a silence so heavy I can feel it flattening me to the ground. There is no one here just this crappy patchy grass and the terrifying silence. My bones are osmium and I am struck down on the floor crawling. I am a gold statue heavy and hurting stationary. Each attempt to move is a reminder of the weight of the emptiness. I am straining to exist. I existed. Except I could not remember when I began… Or why I came to the clearing in the first place… In my mind, I am trying to trace back to the why but every corner I turn closer to the answer is three circles in the wrong direction…if you catch my drift….now why….the why.. The Whyyy…
The only answer is the certainty of the silence and the stillness of the lake.
***
Ehnee’s Room
Sunday evening 8:32 PM
The truth is she never stood a chance really. I stretch this new body as if I am pulling taffy. It has a lovely heavy bounciness. It is a wonderful feeling to feel this bounce again. I rip the mirror from the wall and take it down to the garbage. Maybe someone won’t stand a chance against her
.
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Did you enjoy the story? Was it too obvious to you? Would you have liked to know what The Snatcher did when Ehnee was blacked out? Lines you loved?
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Excellent story with superb prose style. Since you ask about this, I do feel the ending is a touch obvious, not the buildup to it which is brilliantly handled, but the possessing spirit actually telling us at the end that it has possessed her body.
We've spoken about this before and you know my feeling on clear indications as to central themes vs hints of same, and of course there's no clear answer or rule, only preferences.
But I would almost bet that a version in which we change to a third-person vision of the spirit possessing its new body, unfamiliar with its particularities, would be creepier and give the reader more thrill of coming to recognise the truth.
But that's just my answer to your question, others may well feel different.
In any case, a wonderful story!
Body snatching at its finest. Should have listened to mom.