The Legacy: The Son of Leviathan

“Come on, think Damaris! What did you do last night?” I mutter to myself. “I mean, how can you not remember? Oh, God...stupid, stupid, stupid...” I bang my forehead against the closet door. I know it’s not healthy to be banging my head against the closet door, or any door for that matter. And talking to myself isn’t exactly a sane thing to do either but I couldn’t care less right now. I seriously can’t remember what I did last night. I mean, I’m a hot mess fifty percent of the time...okay seventy...ninety-nine. But I never get to the point of not remembering what happened the night before...until this morning.

Okay, let’s back up. Last night. Last night I was supposed to meet up with my best friend Allie and her sorority sisters at a bar. It was Allie’s twenty-first birthday. I remember arriving at Lemon and Lime Bar about five minutes late...give or take. But I didn’t see Allie or any of her sisters there. I waited and I tried calling but she wasn’t answering her phone.

The place wasn’t busy and I remember ordering water with a lemon slice from the cute bartender who had flirted with me for a little bit. I didn’t even order one of those fancy daiquiris that I like...partly because I’m a lightweight and I didn’t want to get sloshed before everyone got there. But mostly because I was dead broke and I’ve used whatever little money that I had on Allie’s birthday gift.

So I was sober the whole evening. I think I ended up waiting for 45 minutes...or more. I don’t know for sure because the next thing I know, I woke up this morning on my bedroom floor, still wearing last night’s dress. And now, here I am banging my head against my bedroom door, wondering what had happened after that. I don’t even remember how I got home.

At least I still have my bag. Not that I have anything of much value in it. The only valuable thing that I have in it is my crappy old phone with a cracked screen. I fish the phone out of my black bag to see if there’s any message from Allie. Oh, crap! I have a class at 10 am and it’s already 9:35. I still have to get cleaned up and it’s at least a 15 minutes walk to the Centre for the Arts building. That is if I walked fast enough and I didn’t stop for coffee and a bagel... Oh wait, I don’t even have enough for a cup of coffee this morning let alone a bagel!

I gather a pair of jeans, a purple tank top, and fresh underwear and run to the bathroom. Then I inspect my face in the mirror above the sink as I brush my teeth. I certainly have raccoon eyes from last night’s mascara and eyeliner, which doesn’t make sense for me. Yes, my room is a mess and I’m always late for...pretty much everything, but I clean my face and moisturize before going to bed. Always! Moisturizing is important, guys!

I peel last night’s underwear down my legs and spot my red painted toenails. Then I remember something.

Last night, while I was deciding whether I should go or wait a bit longer, a busty blonde came to sit on the barstool right next to me. She had this sexy red dress that barely contained her ample breasts and covered her gorgeous ass on.

“Hi,” she said to me. Her ruby red lips curled up into this sexy seductive smile. I have straight pearly white teeth but her smile gave me a sudden urge to ask her who her dentist was.

Her eyes had raked me from the tip of my dark brown hair, my face, my body, all the way down to my heels. She was so thorough in her inspection that it was making me feel a bit uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind getting attention from men or women. In fact, I love it. Admiring glances give me a boost of confidence. But the way she was looking at me seemed assessing and predatory. More like she’s inspecting cattle to be bought at an auction or something rather than admiring. Not that I’ve ever been to a cattle auction. Wait, do they auction cattle?

“Let me buy you a drink,” she had offered. Her perfectly manicured nails landed on my arm to lightly graze my skin.

“Uh...that’s okay. I’m good,” I told her, moving my arm away from her touch. She was making me feel like a cornered prey. “And umm...I don’t really swing that way.”

She burst out laughing at my response. Even her laughter was sexy. A bit husky and very captivating. I see a few heads turning our way. “Oh, you are perfect,” I heard her mutter under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Oh, I said your shoes are perfect. I love them. They’re really... sexy.”

I lifted one of my legs up and moved my foot this way and that, admiring my scarlet red high heels. “They are, aren’t they?” It was love at first sight. Definitely one of my biggest splurges. I saw them at one of those consignment stores and I had to have them even though I had to work extra shifts, survive on ramen, and forego coffee for a whole month.

Then I remember the blonde slid down the barstool. She had grabbed my arms and leaned in as though she was about to kiss me... I blink. That’s it. That’s all I can remember.

Oh God, what happened after that? And oh, my shoes! My red high heels!

I take off running back to my room and start turning my messy room upside down, looking for my sexy red high heels.