GHOST OF A PROMISE

At midnight, Melanie snaked her way through a crowded nightclub in Miami. Although Darlene had promised to meet her two hours ago, there was no sign of the woman. As Melanie passed the bar, a clumsy drunk stumbled and splashed beer on her dress. Disgusted, she shoved him away and marched outside. Warm humid air enveloped her like an invisible creature ready to swallow its prey.

Melanie took a deep breath. She stood in the shadows at the end of the block, tapping her foot along with the reggae music blasting from the club. She mumbled,” You broke your promise, Darlene, but I’m giving you another chance.” She reached into her pants pocket, pulled out her cell phone, and called Darlene. After six rings, the answering machine clicked on. Melanie had already left two messages earlier. There was no point in leaving another, but she couldn’t resist. “You’re an inconsiderate slob,” she said, then dropped the phone into the bulky leather handbag that hung from her shoulder.

Melanie had planned to ride home in Darlene’s car. She hadn’t expected to need cab fare. If only she hadn’t spent so much money on all those fancy margaritas, decorated with strawberries, pineapple chunks, and tiny, colorful umbrellas. She thought the drinks would help her forget her problems, but now she had a pineapple sliver wedged between her teeth, and instead of feeling better, she felt slightly dizzy. And thanks to her so-called friend, she would have to walk home by herself, and that was dangerous. Melanie hated being alone at night because she feared her stalker might appear. For some time now, a creepy man had been obsessed with her. Thinking about him sent chills through her body. Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night and check her doors to see if they were locked. She shuddered, imagining him hiding in the hallway outside her door, ready to pounce. She never used to have nightmares, but now she did.

Melanie’s stomach rumbled. She wished she were home with aspirins and a warm washcloth to soothe her throbbing temples. People had warned her Darlene was unreliable, but she hadn’t wanted to believe them. Why didn’t I listen? Forget the thoughtless bitch. Just focus on getting home safely.

Melanie stopped near the entrance to a back alley, a shortcut to save time. Do I dare go that way? She glanced over her shoulder. Positive no one was following her, she hurried down the dimly-lit alley. After avoiding broken bottles, puddles, and a homeless man snoring under a pile of dead palm fronds, she emerged from the alley.

Several blocks from her apartment, Melanie glimpsed a figure on the other side of the road, heading in the same direction. A coincidence? Maybe, but it was best to be wary of any stranger. She lengthened her stride. Her stiletto heels stabbed the sidewalk.

While Melanie strained to think clearly, the man moved forward at a brisk pace. When she turned left, he crossed to her side of the street and followed. She bit her lip.

Last month, Melanie had ducked into a store to avoid the stalker. That was how she’d met Darlene, the shoe-clerk who’d pretended to be her friend, the woman who didn’t care about keeping promises.

At this time of night, most shops were closed. Her only hope was to take refuge in the 24-hour convenience store on the next block. She dashed toward it, but the windows had been boarded, and an Out of Business sign hung on the door.

Melanie swallowed. She had no choice but to call the police. She reached for her phone, but her pockets were empty. Damn. Where did I put it? She stuck her hand inside her purse and fumbled around. Unable to find it, she cursed Darlene for breaking her promise.

Melanie walked faster, rummaging through her handbag at the same time.

In the past, she had tried explaining her problem to the police. They’d asked if the stalker had harmed her. Not yet, she’d told them. That had ended the discussion. The cops claimed since he hadn’t broken the law, they couldn’t arrest him. So, what was she supposed to do? Wait until the psycho hurt her? It didn’t make sense.

Melanie looked over her shoulder. He’s gaining on me. She ran. Her heart raced. Her shoes pinched. Two blocks later, she was panting, but forced herself to keep going.

Suddenly, the upper half of her body pitched forward. She shrieked and crumpled to the sidewalk. Her elbow hit the cement like a hammer. Pain shot through her arm.

Melanie groaned. She yanked her foot, but her heel was stuck fast, wedged in a grate. Stupid cheap shoes. She should have known better than to buy them from Darlene. Trembling, she twisted her leg back and forth, wiggling her foot frantically.

Finally, able to wrench it free, she rose up, shivering and gasping as the maniac approached.

“Hello, Melanie.” He flashed a crooked-tooth smile like a crocodile mouth ready to snap and drag her to his lair.

“Stop bothering me,” Melanie hissed.

He grimaced. “You know why I’m here.”

“Get away from me, you lunatic.” Melanie glared at him, as she lifted her hand out of her purse. She’d found what she needed. Not her phone. Something better. Her hand shook as she pointed the pistol she held.

“Until next time,” he whispered. “I’ll be back. I promise.” His body faded like smoke in the wind.

Melanie let out her breath.

She had killed the creep last year, and yet he still returned to haunt her. “That’s the trouble with ghosts,” she mumbled. “They come back for revenge.” And they were real, no matter what her therapist had said.

Melanie replaced her gun. She’d use it tomorrow when she returned her scuffed shoes

to Darlene’s shop and ended their friendship forever. She wondered if Darlene’s ghost would haunt her. Would she promise revenge like the stalker had? It didn’t matter. Darlene didn’t keep promises.

THE END