The Invitation

When I sent out the invitations, I never expected anyone to show. Thought for sure they would sell me empty promises, as usual. I bet they wish now that they had stayed true to form. I, for one, am glad they didn’t. Of all my achievements, this was my crowning glory. I finally made headlines and got some long overdue recognition. I had the distinct honor, of being the first woman in my area to pull off such a grand affair. Family, friends, and a few acquaintances were all on hand. Yep, once they actually showed up there was no turning back. It was time to party until they dropped…dead.

***

Most days I don’t even question, why? The reasons present themselves with such clarity. Other days when I supposedly come to my senses, I ask. Why did I take this road? Better yet, how did I arrive here? The soul searching visits but doesn’t stay long these days. It’s what they keep calling a break-through. I pretend it makes sense to me. I figured out by now, that I’m supposed to be feeling remorse and asking those tough questions. I stare blankly and attempt to show emotion. I remember it being the way people would try to deceive me. Oh yes, I studied their behavior, hung on their words. Now it serves me well.

I mimic all I experienced in my former life. The inattentive ear, the insincere declarations, oh and last but not least, the “I love you’s.” Those were the best of all. I heard them constantly. I think it was supposed to mean something, but hell if I know what. Now I throw those around like nobody’s business. I think they’re starting to believe me. They believe when I tell them, I mourn the love. I emote something that looks a lot like sorrow. That part I picked up when observing faces in the court room. The day they deemed me incompetent, I smiled to myself. I was certain no one noticed. Then it happened; a split-second, stare down. My blood ran cold. I wondered if that’s what the others felt in their last moments. Then the thought faded as they carted me out of the court room.

Later that night the icy stare invaded my dreams. I made a mental note. Who were they to occupy space in my life? Even for a mere second of time. In no way did I appreciate what they communicated, with just one look. I knew my life was in jeopardy from that moment on. I vowed that the owner of that stare would get paid a visit, first chance I got. It’s only a matter of months before my performances get me sprung. And when I do, I’m going to throw another killer party. Making sure to invite all those who missed the last one. I’m even inviting some of the staff here; especially the ones who get their kicks from supplying that extra hands-on treatment. It’s only fitting. Oh yes, they’ll be at the top of my list.

I’ll of course have to hire an accomplice, a party planner if you will, to orchestrate the whole thing; given the fact that my last one ended in dramatic fashion. Not to mention that it landed me in hot water, to put it mildly. I really don’t get why everyone was so bothered. Who doesn’t love a Famous Murder Victims theme party? The guests really got in the spirit. It was fun to see, there was an Anne Boleyn, a JFK and some Son of Sam victims. I figured everyone in attendance was deserving of an invite. Each of them was so instrumental in my planning. Who knew my party idea wouldn’t go over so well? Different strokes for different folks, as they say. It’s okay. You live and learn. I know better now, as I sit in here planning my next shindig.

My first party was years in the making. So many guests of honor; VIP’s a plenty. Some were surprised by the few of my bloodline and extended family in attendance. Others, I assume, understand completely why I would invite them. Think about it. You know you would have done the same. They certainly would have been spared if they had showed a little more appreciation. The same goes for friends and lovers. Being dropped and replaced with a cheap imitation is just bad business. So who more deserving of an invitation? It was high time these folks were celebrated.

In grand fashion, I celebrated each and every one of them. The night was about repaying them for all they had given to me. So I decided to give of myself; in every cup of my special Electric Lemonade. They seemed to enjoy every last drop as they clamored for seconds. As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together. And oh did the birds flock near the French onion dip. That was also a big hit, might I add. Although the drinks and appetizers were joyously consumed, the main course was to die for. It was my pet project for weeks. In fact, pets were the main ingredient; sprinkled with a dash of my beautiful oleander from the garden. As much as it bothered me that my guest’s pets went missing, it brought me great pleasure to reunite them that evening.

After indulging in a delectable meal, several of my guests suddenly fell ill. They floundered about in an odd dizzy dance. Panic set in once they realized it was a group effort. They began spilling out of the room and in the direction of the nearest bathroom. What they didn’t count on was the instant adhesive on the floor in the foyer. In seconds each scurrying guest found themselves bound to the hallway. How horrible it must have been for them to be sick and not be able to move. The sight of my guests getting sick on themselves, the floor and each other, almost made me heave.

It seemed what they needed was some fresh air. I flicked the switch for the industrial ceiling fan. If you’ve ever been to Planet Fitness you’ll have notice the colossal purple ceiling fan. I had always joked with my gym buddy about the devastation it would cause should it fall. The curiosity got the best of me so I decided to try it out. Of course I couldn’t obtain the exact one at Planet Fitness but I came pretty damn close. The fact that I installed it myself was a plus. In this instance, it worked in my favor that I lacked the know-how.

As soon as the fan made its first rotation, it separated from the ceiling just a little. It continued to spin and lower until it was dangling dangerously close to my guests. They screamed in horror for me to help. The audacity of those people sickened me. All the years of taking my feelings for granted and they still wanted something from me; as if they hadn’t gotten enough already. Turning the tables felt good, I don’t care what anybody says. As the fan dropped lower, the newly crimson painted walls glistened. Being sprayed by sticky debris didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. I wondered if there would be a party with this, sure-to-be famous theme, one day. I so loved planning it.