Halloween Night 2024
I extended my hands out to feel the frame of my doorway leading into the
hallway. I continued to feel my way out of the labyrinth I once called my
apartment, now engulfed in flames, and the smoke so thick I couldn’t see
anything in front of me. My heart raced, because I knew she was still in the apartment somewhere, hidden in the darkness behind the wall of smoke.
I began coughing and gasping for air still feeling my way around the apartment
to get to the front door. Once I made it to the living room I had no more walls
to guide me and I had to walk blindly through the open space. I was beginning
to feel lightheaded, as if the floor was spinning under my feet. I knew if
I didn’t get out soon, I would be dead. SMACK!
“Shit! Ow, ow, ow!” I hit my knee on something But what was it? I felt my
hands around the edges of a countertop…… My kitchen island! I was right beside
the door now. Only a few short steps forward and I would be… that’s when I
noticed it. The light from the flames were reflecting… glaring from the left
side of the door. It was the reflection of her sunglasses.
Before I could react she lunged forward, grabbed me by the neck, and slammed me
to the floor. This couldn’t be happening, how was this happening? I was
dreaming. It was just another one of the horrible nightmares that I’d had over
the past year, and I was going to wake up any second. She squeezed her hands
more tightly around my neck. Every gasp of air I was able to inhale as she choked me was pure smoke at this point. I
felt around me for something, anything that I could use as a weapon. The more
my fingertips failed to locate an item, the more I felt my life draining. My
body was going limp, in the smoke filled room I was seeing lights, little red
spots.
Just as I was about to give up hope, I felt something and I was able to grab it
easily. I tightened my fist, inhaled the last bit of smoke filled air I could,
and smashed it into the right side of her head, causing her to fall off of me.
My body instinctively began gasping for air, but the smoke had gotten thicker,
and I continued to cough. I began crawling towards the door, and that's when she grabbed my
leg, laughing menacingly. “You’re not real!” I screamed as she pulled me back
towards her. “You’re not real!” Her laughing deepened into a
demonic sound. “YOU’RE NOT REAL!”, “YOU’RE NOT REAL!”, “YOU’RE NOT REAL!”….
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
One week earlier
The lights, the cameras, the crowds – it was
all so exhilarating. I had never felt so alive, so invincible. It had only been
a year since I had risen to the top of the drag queen scene, but I had already
accomplished more than I had ever imagined. Movie deals, a music album,
sold-out performances,
I was even writing a novel
– I finally had it all. I was backstage in a dressing room waiting to go on one
of the late shows to promote my new single I had just released “Queen Bee”, as
well as this dark inide horror film that I had just put on the map as its headlining star called "soul for a soul".
It had been one year to the day after I had died, yes you read that right, I
died. I had been resuscitated after a few minutes, and when something like that happens, you
discover how short your time really is on this rock, you realize we are fragile
and we can be broken. It really opens your eyes to the possibilities the world
offers, and motivates you to chase your dreams harder than ever before.
“Goss?” I immediately turned to see the face of my manager… “Deepia, is it time
to go on?” I asked. “You’re next, about 5 minutes… wait where are your
sunglasses?” Deepia was obsessed with my sunglasses, she called them my
‘signature look’, I knew why she wanted me to wear them. We were releasing an
entire line of bejeweled sunglasses in my online store next week and this was
just more promoting. I reluctantly pulled the sunglasses from my bag and put
them on. “I get it D, we’re promoting.. but won’t I look ridiculous being
interviewed on a late night show in sunglasses?” I asked “They’re perfect for
night. You’re the Queen of darkness, that’s why your fans send you things like
this.” Deepia held out a vase filled with black roses which were covered in
black glitter. “Lovely...” as soon as she handed the roses to me, I threw them
into the trash so hard that the glass vase shattered. "Rude, that was a cute vase" Deepia said as she tried to salvage the broken pieces to no avail.
The dressing room door swung upon and one of the stage hands poked his head in
and stuttered “um… Miss… Gossip… Pieces you’re on in two minutes.” I merely
looked at him, and opened my mouth when he immediately left the room and shut the door. “Why do
people react to me like that? I may be a bitch sometimes, but I’m not the devil.” I looked
at Deepia as I asked her and noticed a smirk on her face. “We all have a little
devil in us, including you.” After Deepia replied, she went back to booking
appointments on her phone.
I stood behind stage on my mark waiting for the host to introduce me “Deepia,
who is that man?” I asked. “He is a guest host, Stephen is off this week.” She
said looking at her phone, I knew she didn’t want to look me in the eye because
she knew how I felt about ‘guest hosts’. “Not even being interviewed by the man
whose name is literally in the show title… you know how much I love that.” I
said snidely. “It doesn’t change anything Goss, you still have the opportunity
to promote your album, your movie, yourself… and you’re contractually obligated
to be here, so you’re not getting out of it, sweetie” Deepia was the only
person I would allow to speak to me this way.
Deepia was the person who put me on the map, I respected her, and in some ways
I feared that even though I was now her biggest client, that if I didn’t do
what she asked, she’d leave me and my career would tank. “Bitch” I replied as I
was being introduced. I heard Deepia giggle as I walked from stage left. I put
on my big fake smile and walked onto the set to greet the host.
As the audience
roared with applause, the Late Show's host made his way to the center of the
stage.
"Welcome back to the Late
Show, folks. My next guest is a renowned drag queen and the star of the
upcoming indie horror flick, ‘Soul for a Soul’, please welcome Gossip Pieces." The crowd erupted in cheers as I walked onto the stage donning a stunning black sequin gown accented with
elaborate feather headdress.
"Wow, Gossip,
you look absolutely stunning. I mean what can I say, you are a walking work of
art." The
hosts always threw out a fake compliment like this to start the interviews;
this guy wasn’t half bad after all.
I gave one of my genuine sounding fake laughs, "Thank you, darling,"
I replied,
flicking my feathered headpiece.
"It's all in a day's work."
The audience clapped
with enthusiasm. "Thank you, my darlings,"
I replied, flicking my feathered headpiece again. The truth was that I hadn't picked a single item of clothing I'd worn since signing on with Deepias agency. She picked everything, she styled the hair, chose the make up, jewelry, shoes... all of it.
The host took his seat and
leaned in with a grin on his face. "So, Gossip, you have a
new song out called ‘Queen Bee’ and the highly anticipated music video is set to debut on Halloween. The song is already an absolute hit, and you are starring in an upcoming horror flick,
Soul for a Soul. That's impressive! You're like a queen of all trades." Insert fake laugh number two and throw in batting eyelashes. "Well, I like to keep
myself busy, darling."
It was at that moment I saw her again. The hair, the
sunglasses, I could see it all from the corner of my eye, but I knew once I
tried to focus on her, she would be gone like all the times before. I turned my
head slightly, and as I’d predicted, she wasn’t there.
"I
can see that," the host replied. “See
what?” I asked nervously. “That you like to keep busy, in addition to all of
these projects rumor on the street is your starting a fashion line” I knew
Deepia had floated this information to the host, as we hadn’t made an official announcement
as of yet, so I guess this was it. “I am, our first product will actually be
replicas of my sunglasses, as well as a few new designs I’ve been working on.
They will be available in my online store next week”
The truth was, it was only the replica pair. I’d been designing but Deepia didn’t
like any of the other prototypes I’d shown her as of yet. "That’s great, my daughter has
been begging for a pair and I didn’t know where to get them. Speaking of my
daughter, she’s obsessed with your new song, so let's talk about Queen Bee. It's an absolute
banger. What inspired you to write it?" I
took a sip of water and responded, "Well, I wanted to write a song about the power of
Queens. We're fabulous and fierce, and nobody should
ever underestimate us. That's what
being a Queen Bee
is all about."
The host smiled in approval and
leaned in to ask
about my latest project "So,
how about your new movie, ‘Soul for a Soul’? It's a horror flick, right? People are saying it’s one of
the most terrifying films that’s debuted on the big screen in decades. Can you tell us a bit about
it?"
"Sure," I replied solemnly. "It's a story about a
group of friends who find themselves
in a supernatural world. They
have to fight to survive and try to figure out how to get back to
reality." I
hated giving generic responses like this, but the studios were very strict on
sharing too many details of the storyline given.
The host nodded in awe and
asked, "That sounds intense. What's it like working on a horror film
compared to other genres?"
Softball question, I could answer this one in my sleep…"It's pretty different, I
have to say," I said, throwing him a pensive look. "Obviously, you have to
tap into a different side of yourself,
a darker part of yourself that sort of hides in the shadows of all of us, to really get into character.
It's not for the faint of heart."
"I bet it's
not. And speaking of intense, let's talk about Rumor Reese. There's been a lot
of talk about her lately. What can you tell us about her?" The host grinned and leaned back in his chair.
My heart stopped in my chest as
soon as I heard the name… Rumor Reese. I had strictly forbidden the
name from even being mentioned in my writer that Deepia has sent to every
interview I’d been to the past year. I felt my demeanor changing, I tried to
control it, but my temper was getting the best of me…
"Rumor Reese was a nobody.” Not the best response, but I
was hoping it would make him drop the subject. The host looked taken aback then asked “Many of your
original fans credit your success to Rum…” “I’m sorry, are we here to talk
about Rumor Reese or my new album, or movie, or we could talk about the novel
I’m writing?” I was fighting at this point to get him to change the subject. “But
Gossip, Rumor Reese was such a huge part of your life. I just wanted to-“
“Yes. She was
a part of my life, but she isn’t now. Honestly, I have no
interest in talking about Rumor Reese. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.” The audience was silent as the
host sat there with a perplexed expression on his face. "Well, folks, that's all the time we have for
today. Join me tomorrow when my guest will be the
incredible Jennifer Lawrence."
As the show ended, the audience clamored amongst
themselves, confused about what had just transpired on stage. But one thing was
clear: never bring up Rumor Reese in the presence of Gossip Pieces.
As I stormed into the dressing room I
saw the 12 black roses on my makeup vanity in the same vase I had thrown into
the trash before the interview. I walked over to the flowers, and inspected the
vase which I was sure had broken, and I couldn’t find one crack or even a
scratch on it anywhere. I couldn't help but feel uneasy as I still saw the card
attached and it read "Happy Anniversary, see you soon". I reached for the card when I pricked my finger on one of the roses thorns.
As the blood ran down my fingertip, it was if a key had been
turned unlocking all the memories of the past year that had been hidden away.
Bits and pieces began pouring in like the pieces of a film strip… all of the horrible things I had done, and then I remembered the moment it had all started, the minutes I was lingering in between life and death one year ago, I had ended up at the crossroads. I... I had made a pact with the devil, only unlike every cliche story you've ever heard, I hadn't exchanged my soul for fame. As I began to recall the terms of our agreement, I remembered I had promised something far more sinister...
October 25th 2023
Drag competitions & Death
As I stood backstage at the competition, I began to notice all of the glamorous Queens around me. With their extravagant over the top outfits that I am sure took them weeks to make. Their makeup that looked like a professional had come in and spent hours on their faces. I began to feel inferior, self doubt whispers began screaming in my head, my head began to ache, my stomach turned, my palms got sweaty and that’s when I heard it “Our next Queen to grace the stage … Miss… Rumor… Reese!” I felt a lump rising in my throat as I walked towards the curtain, this was it, this was my moment. I walked through the curtain, smiled and… oh no. The lump in my throat was in my mouth, I felt it coming and I couldn’t stop it. It came out first as a dry heave and then it happened… “Blarghhhh” … you guessed it. I tossed my cookies, but full on projectile style like Linda Blair in the exorcist. Not only on the stage but some actually hit the audience too.
I stood there a moment in absolute horror. The audience began to erupt in loud laughter, and boos, except of course for the few in the front row who were looking a little green themselves now. I turned to exit the stage but I slipped in my own mess and face planted on the stage. The volume of crowd’s laughter increased and they clapped as I wiggled around trying to get myself back up. One of the queens backstage must’ve felt sorry for me because the closed the curtain, only the back half of my body was still on the other side, and my backside pointed straight at the audience. She grabbed my hand and pulled the rest of me backstage.
“Girl, are you okay?” I didn’t answer her. I ran towards the door feeling the tears building up and released them the moment I busted through the exit door into the back alley, removed heels from my feet and ran towards the parking lot. I got to my car only to realize I’d left my keys inside on the dressing room table. “Shit. This night couldn’t get any worse”. I contemplated going back in for the keys, but as my body began to shiver in a cold sweat I knew that wasn’t an option. I was going to call my husband to come get me, but he had picked up and evening shift at work. I called my friend Rachel but as she answered the call disconnected. I looked at the screen just in time to see the screen power off. I had been using it all day to promote my failed, humiliating experience at Boquitas bar which drained the battery. My apartment was only a 10 minute walk, and I needed some fresh air. Plus the exercise would do me some good, I’d put on a few pounds.
I was about halfway to my apartment when I had an uneasy feeling wash over me. I had walked beyond the streetlights and was now being guided by the moonlight and stars through the darkness. The chilly fall air whistled as it blew through the orange and brown colored leaves in the trees around me. I wrapped my coat more tightly around myself, but the wind still found its way into my shirt collar sending a shiver down the back of my neck and spine. “Hey sexy” I heard a voice say from behind me. I turned to see a man, probably in his early thirties, with dark blonde hair and blue eyes who was rather stocky and stood about 6’2”. I pretended not to hear him and began to walk at a faster pace. “Hey, where you going?” I heard his footsteps speeding up behind me, my heart began to race.
I felt hands on my shoulders as he swung me around “I thought you’d like some…” he stopped midsentence with a perplexed look on his face, his eyes widened and then tightened as his expression turned angry. “You... you’re a dude?!” My entire body was trembling with fear, I tried to speak through my teeth chattering and murmured “yes”. “FREAK” he shouted as he pushed me into a back alley. He punched me twice, once in the face, and then once in the abdomen. I dropped to my knees clutching my stomach. “Chase, what the hell are you doing?” I heard a voice but I couldn’t see who was speaking. My aggressor turned from me towards the voice. “Dude, are you beating up a girl?” the man asked. “It’s not a girl! It’s a freak, it tried to come on to me.” The guy I learned was named ‘Chase’ screamed to the new comer. “I… I didn’t hit on him, he tried to..” SMACK! “Shut your mouth!” I felt the right side of my cheek throbbing, before I could focus in on it, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! He hit me again… and again… and again. I felt a warm liquid dripping from my forehead… I touched it with my hand and saw the red, it was blood, my blood.
“Chase, stop it!” The stranger screamed. Be he relented and continued to hit me, and kick me. I was so weak, I could taste my blood and it was choking me. I was going to close my eyes, I wasn’t going to fight it anymore, I tried to speak and felt intense pain in my jaw, I think it was broken. I overhead the two talking while going in and out of consciousness. Something, something “the police”… “something something “leave the body here”. Something, something “dispose of the body”… I felt my ankles being pulled, and I was being dragged. I couldn’t open my eyes, I couldn’t speak or move. I felt myself being lifted into the air, and then I felt weightlessness. Like I was flying, then I felt like I was floating, drifting through existence. It was at that moment I realized, I was underwater, and I was sinking fast. I fought myself to swim, but every bone in my body felt broken. I held my breath as long as I could, and then I exhaled…
After death, a new life awaits
I woke up in the hospital not knowing how I had ended up there. Everything was fuzzy, a complete blur. I looked over and saw J.T. asleep, sitting up in a chair in the corner of the room. I tried to speak but soon realized something was obstructing my mouth, and my throat. I began to pull on it and felt a sharp pinch in my chest. Suddenly alarms started to sound from one of the many machines around me, waking J.T. in the process. “What are you doing?” he screamed, pulling my hands away from the tube in my mouth. “Doctor! Nurse! Somebody!” he shouted.
A small entourage of people in scrubs ran into the room, one of them immediately held a light over my eyes and asked me to follow it, another was removing the tube from my throat that I had tried to pull out myself. “Should we let the police know he’s awake?” asked one. “No. Let’s make sure he’s stable enough to give a statement first” replied another. They continued talking, but it was like I was in a tunnel and I couldn’t single out one word they said. This commotion continued for the next few hours, until a Psychiatrist named Dr. Cunningham came in with two officers to talk to me about what had perspired in the days prior.
Apparently it had become a big deal in our small quiet town, and my story had even been on the news. As it was being explained to me, the police had received a call and were told what had transpired. As it was told to me by the officers, the witness stated I was being harassed by two men, one of which became violent, and then tossed me from a bridge into a shallow stream below. A local fisherman saw part of this as well, and pulled me from the waters. Shortly thereafter an ambulance had arrived. At some point during the ride to the hospital, I died for nearly 2 minutes before being resuscitated. The way that everything played out, if just one of those dominoes hadn’t fallen at just the precise right moment, I’d be dead. It was a lot to process, which is why they had me spend 2 hours per day for the next 3 days talking with Dr. Cunningham. Which if I am being honest, didn’t really help, I was still sort of in denial about it all at that point.
After “dying”, spending less than one week in the hospital, less than 6 hours of total therapy, the hospital was ready to talk payment plans. I didn’t have medical insurance, and this is America, so it was decided I’d healed enough, physically and emotionally to be discharged. While going through my possessions, I saw my bloody clothing and was surprised it wasn’t being held for evidence by the police. Or the hospital could’ve thrown them away, it’s not like I’ll ever wear them again. At the bottom of the bag I noticed a pair of beaded sunglasses with tiny hearts on the top right side of either corner. I didn’t remember having them before, but everything was still hazy so I tossed them back into the bag and went home with J.T.
In the weeks following, I had been interviewed by the local new station and our small town paper, I received and overwhelming amount of messages of support from people on social media, and my follower count was rising by the hundreds each day. I had left my bag from the hospital in the corner of the room, I hadn’t wanted to deal with it. I opened the bag and tossed the bloody clothing into the trash and then I noticed the sunglasses. I grabbed them and popped them on, then looked in the mirror over the fireplace mantle. The glasses looked like they were tailor made for my face. The glasses had me so inspired that I decided to make a video, the first one I’d done since before the accident. I grabbed some make up, jewelry and my wig and began recording. I updated people on my situation, thanked everyone who had reached out, and welcomed my new followers. I hit post, and within one hour I had a thousand new followers.
I continued posting over the new several days and it was like I couldn’t lose. No matter what I said, or did, the video went viral and I would pick up a couple of thousand followers each day. I eventually received a follow request from Deepia Morgan, one of the most influential agents in the entertainment industry. After accepting her request I was immediately messaged by someone on her staff who asked if I’d be willing to come in for a meeting with Deepia herself, we exchanged information and before I knew it, I had an appointment with Deepia on my calendar for the following day. I hardly slept, tossing and turning. Convincing myself this was a mistake, they messaged the wrong person… why would they want me?
The next morning I saw anxiously in the lounge to speak with Deepia. The receptionist struck up a conversation with me, and told me she was a huge fan of my social media account. She even asked for my autograph, which I felt was weird. This person probably met huge A list celebrities daily, and she was star struck by me? That’s when I saw her. She stepped out of the office similar to a model on a runway. She was flawless, she had a dark complexion that didn’t have a blemish or wrinkle anywhere in sight. Her dark brown hair slightly curled and hanging at her collar bone, looked better than my most expensive wig. The make up, the clothes, down to the jewelry, she was perfection in my eyes.
She called me into her office and I found myself sitting on the opposite side of her desk. Behind her a gigantic window overlooking downtown behind her, the entire office was like something out of a movie itself. Deepia explained she had seen my story on the news and that it had captured the attention of the public, leaving all of them asking “who is this girl?” Deepia felt like she was the one to properly introduce who I was; or rather who she wanted me to portray to the world. We discussed my look, my content, even my name. She wanted to reinvent me, and I was okay with that. This was Deepia Morgan after all, many people had gotten their start with her and became famous overnight. She sent a stylist out with a list that I didn’t even see, requesting a new wardrobe, wig, cosmetics… everything, for me.
I walked into the room as Rumor Reese, but I walked out with a new name; Gossip Pieces. She had a new look, and we even spent the rest of the afternoon practicing speech. She wanted me to stop playing so heavily on my Southern accent. My opening catch phrase “Hey y’all, Rumor Reese here” was changed to “Hi Friends! Gossip Pieces here!” We even practiced softening my voice. It was a small change, but according to Deepia it would widen the base of my following. When I walked out, the only thing I really got to keep from my former self were the sunglasses. Deepia loved those.
Over the next few weeks, my life turned upside down. Deepia had me doing drag shows at clubs I would never have been able to get into on my own, she had me in the studio recording an album, I had landed the lead role she had me audition for that was for a small indie horror film, and when I wasn’t doing that she had me doing social media videos promoting everything, or networking. I hadn’t slept more than 3-4 hours a night and when I did sleep I was having the most horrible nightmares. I kept seeing the same guy, his face was so familiar to me but I couldn’t place him. In every single dream he was murdered, in the most gruesome way while I had to watch. Also, as crazy as it may sound, I was seeing things that weren’t there when I was awake. One thing I saw most commonly was a figure out of the side of my eye, and the figure appeared to look very much like me, only different. I was never fully able to see them because once I’d try to focus my eyes onto them, they’d be gone. Without going into too much detail, I explained my situation to Deepia, and she attributed it to my exhausting schedule. She promised to give me some down time, but there wasn’t any of that in sight.
My schedule only intensified, according to Deepia the more appearances I’d been making, actually put me in pretty high demand. The filming schedule was my most grueling, 10-12 hours per day, 6 days per week. Thankfully we were just about finished filming, so I had less than one month left of that. Usually after filming most of the day, I’d make a club appearance… music and everything else sort of fell in between. I hadn’t seen my husband in nearly two weeks. The few hours I was at home, he would either be in bed asleep, or at work himself. We had a date night planned for the evening, which I was really looking forward too. A simple night in, some takeout, a movie, and then I planned to pass out and sleep. Around the time I was getting my things to leave the set, Deepia called and told me she had booked me for a Pride event at one of the clubs in town and that I needed to be there in an hour to start getting ready. She told me our Stylist; Katie was coming to pick me up.
Hopes for a quiet evening were immediately smashed by my grueling schedule once more.
As Katie pulled into the parking lot, she handed me a pair of sunglasses that I didn’t recognize. “Katie, where are my sunglasses?” she had a confused expression on her face before she replied. “Those are your sunglasses.” I inspected the sunglasses and they were similar to mine but they had minor differences. Both were beaded sunglasses, mine had multicolored beads where as this pair was all silver. Mine had heart charms in the corner and white pearls across the top of the rim. This pair had two silver high heel charms in the corner and black pearls across the top of the rim. “You’re messing with me. Where are my sunglasses? Is this a new pair that Deepia wants me to start wearing?” Again Katie appeared perplexed. “Gossip, those have always been your sunglasses. I’ve had them since you handed them to me this morning.”
I didn’t know what she was trying to pull, but I had evidence. I whipped my phone out to show her the photos I had taken early in the day before she picked me up in the sunglasses. When I opened my photos my heart skipped a beat. I was, in fact wearing the sunglasses Katie had just handed me. Not the ones I remembered wearing for almost 6 months now. I went back to my social media to look at my older videos, every video had me in these sunglasses. I didn’t utter another word about it, I felt as if I was losing my mind. How could I clearly remember them looking so different? Now I really wish I had ignored Deepias call and went home, obviously I really needed sleep.
A few months later, after finishing my album and the movie, I
was constantly bouncing from interviews, appearances, and concerts. I had begun
therapy a few weeks ago, because the nightmares escalated. No longer was I
dreaming of the first man I had seen being murdered in my nightmares over, and over
had changed. I had seen a woman dying, although she died in a fire, although it
was still a traumatic dream to have every night. I continued having that one
until I dreamt of another older man dying in a car accident. The latest was of
a younger male, I’d say early twenties. The dreams of his death were
exceptionally difficult to watch because he was drowning, which brought back my
own insecurities of PTSD. Each time I tried to intervene, to help them all, but
to no avail.
According to my therapist these dreams were associated with feelings of
helplessness. “It’s your busy schedule. You feel like your time is no longer
your own.” Or “You suddenly have a team of people telling you what to do, where
to do it, what to say… you feel that you have no control over any decisions not
matter how minuscule they may be.” … I mean, her theory did make sense. It’s just,
the dreams were so vivid, and more importantly I’d actually seen one of the people
I dreamt of; on a missing persons flyer. I told my therapist that, and again
she had an answer for that too. “You’d seen the photo before seeing them in
your dream.”… Another good point that was difficult to argue.
When telling her about seeing the girl who looked like me, only when I’d turn
my head to see her she was gone, the therapist said “Feeling like you’ve lost a
part of yourself it would totally make sense that you would feel like you see
her.” This one didn’t sit well with me. I neglected to tell her that the girl I
saw didn’t look exactly like me. She wore a purple wig, instead of my signature
rainbow one. The sunglasses were different too, but I couldn’t really see the
details of them before she’d vanish.
Another detail I’d left out, because I
didn’t want to sound completely insane but shortly after Deepia signed me, we designed this adorable bejeweled compact mirror and we were planning to sell them. I only ever used it once,
because when I opened it I had seen the girl in the mirror for the first time
ever while staring at my own reflection. Clear as day. The purple wig, the
sunglasses that I still couldn’t quite make out, and she had this tight, dark pleather
catsuit, with some sort of Goth style feathered collar. Although Deepia had turned me into the “Queen
of Darkness”, that image was a much darker version of myself than I ever wanted
to see. I smashed the mirror and that is
when I began seeing her out of the corner of my eye. Almost everywhere I’d go,
there she’d be.
And the sunglasses, they were ever changing, but when I'd look back in old photos and videos, they were the same. If they were blue last week, but red this week, I'd look back at last weeks video and sure enough they were red. I still couldn't wrap my mind around that.
With Halloween fast approaching, Deepia had planned to release my newest single
“Queen Bee”; which would also be the nail in Rumor Reeses coffin, sealing that
worthless bitch up and out of my way forever. Deepia had a fixation with the
occult; not practicing it, but using it’s symbolism and imagery in my videos.
One of the first videos I ever did showed the "death of Rumor Reese", another showed me with blood dripping from my chin after killing Rumor and literally taking a bite out of her heart, another was in a room filled with broken mirrors,
and Rumors brown wig, and some clothing being burned, inside of a circle
similar to a pentagram. All the videos with the focus on killing Rumor Reese. I hated it at first, but Deepia knew her shit. It’s
what jump started my career. Teens and younger audiences loved me. Their
parents thought I was the anti-Christ so they absolutely hated me, which in
turn made their kids love me all the more.
Although, the past year I had gained a lot of that adult audience after the
movie “Soul for a Soul” was released. People were saying it was the scariest
film since that movie about the exorcism in the 1970s. Professionally, I was on
top of the world. Personally, I was drained, exhausted, and more than a little
mental. My husband had left the apartment, not because I was never home which
would have been a good enough reason all on its own, but because he said I had
changed. I heard that so many times, from so many people in my life over the
past year. Of course I had changed. I literally died, and came back to life. I
wasn’t going to waste my second chance like some basic bitch twiddling my
fingers and waiting for my funeral precession. Even if I hadn’t died, humans as a species are
constantly learning, adapting, evolving… we don’t stay static. “Fuck em’” I
said to myself while finishing my makeup. Deepia had sent me a message, it was a photo of the outfit she wanted me to wear for the release of my single on Halloween night. When I opened the message my heart sank into my stomach... it was a black pleather catsuit, with a feathered collar and a purple wig.
I Remember now
Tonight show, one week before Halloween 2024
As I stood there with the blood dripping down my finger tip, I had remembered my deal with the devil. Only I hadn't traded my soul for fame and fortune. I... before I could finish my thought Deepia entered the room. "So have you collected your 6th soul yet?" she asked while eating a yogurt. I stood there unsure that she had said what I thought she had just said casually eating her yogurt like she was gossiping about last nights episode of the Bachelor. Before I could speak she asked again. "Have..you..coll-ect-ed your 6th soul yet?" I remembered everything... my bargain was that in exchange for fame, I would collect souls from others who'd made pacts with the devil and whos time had... expired. He would allow me one year of guilt free fame, with no strings attached. I had to murder these people. I'd say that's a pretty big string attached!
The sunglasses were used to see the auras surrounding the souls that he wanted me to "collect" and were directly tied to my success. The nightmares... they weren't nightmares at all. They were suppressed memories. I fell to the floor and pulled my knees towards to chest. "Good lord, is this going to be a thing? Just do your breathing exercises like Dr. whatever her name was told you to do." Deepia said with a mischievous grin. "I don't think that's going to work here... wait... how do you?" She cut me off. "How do I know you've been killing people for the devil? Sweetie, I'm his recruiter. We all have parts to play. Right now, you're my special project. Once you've completed your 6th kill, you won't need me anymore, and I'll have a new charge to guide." She kicked her heels off and slid her feet onto the sofa.
"I won't do it." I said firmly. "Oh... I think you will." Deepia replied confidently. "I never would've done it on my own, I didn't have free will. I didn't know what I was..." Deepia finished my thought "doing?... You knew. I made you very much aware, every. single. night. You had the choice and each time, you chose to get ahead. To get more famous. To kill. Don't you even remember the first time?" As she asked me, I could fuzzily remember all the times she had asked me, as if it were a dream. I also began to remember the first time, the first person I killed. It was... Chase. The guy who'd beaten me and left me for dead. The one who'd put me in the very position I am in right now. He was the first person I killed, and I remember all the blood. As I began to remember the others, I remember making it look like accidents. I tried to make their deaths quick and painless. But with Chase... I was merciless. Brutal. I didn't even know I was capable of this kind of evil. Who was I? What was happening to me? "Honey, I can clearly see you're having a moment, but I need that 6th soul, and I need it by Halloween night. So... get your shit together, and I'll see ya tomorrow. K, Love ya, bye!" Deepia left the room, I just sat there, still unable to process what I had done for what felt like hours.
The next day I laid in my bed and ignored calls and messages from Deepia for the first few hours. This, fame was everything I had ever wanted. Since I was a little kid, I just knew it was going to happen for me. I just, didn't think this would be the way. What truly scared me is how much I continued to contemplate it. I mean, I was killing innocent puppies, I was killing someone who had already promised their soul to the devil in exchange for whatever their dream was they wanted to come true, for a set and limited amount of time before they'd have to pay him back. Simple. I could this, I could totally do this. I picked up the phone to call Deepia, but she beat me to it. As soon as I answered I said "I'll do it." I heard Deepia gleefully laugh "Your mark is already in your neighborhood. Go get him, girl!" I hung up. Disgusted with myself, I left my apartment building and put on the sunglasses. I walked around the corner and it didn't take long for me to see him. The man walked down a back alley, almost making this all the easier. I felt like a stalker, lurking in the shadows behind him. I made my way around the corner and suddenly I began to realize exactly what I was doing, or going to do. "This isn't me" I said to myself and I turned back towards my apartment. As I stepped onto the elevator I received a message from Deepia "There WILL be consequences."
The next day, I opened my phone to see my name everywhere in the news. "Gossips, greatest show EVER." I continued reading to see photos of me in the black pleather catsuit, the purple wig, all of it. But I don't remember any of it. I immediately called Deepia who didn't answer. I called office and was told to speak directly with Deepia. I finally called Katie, the makeup artist... who said that I had just left her trailer and was on my way to Deepias office now. "I've been home all morning!" I shouted. "Girl, get some rest, or lay off the drugs. Whatever your issue is, get it together." then she hung up on me.
I finally got a call back from Deepia who told me to turn on the television for a live press conference. There on the live broadcast was me, but obviously not me. In the catsuit, the wig... The interview was just starting. A reporter asked about the 2nd album and the reinvention tour, which I knew nothing about. My doppelganger replied to him "First there was that weak ass bitch, Rumor Reese. Then we all met Gossip Pieces, who had potential but unfortunately didn't quite make it to the cutting room floor. Long live.. Gossip Grim." Then she walked off of the stage, just like that interview over.
I forgot that Deepia was still on the line "See? We don't need you." she said snidely. "But who... who is that?" I asked in disbelief. "She's you sweet heart. Your hunger for fame and power, the sunglasses, the sacrifices, and did you think those rituals we were doing in the videos were for funsies? You remember that cute mirror I gave you?" She stopped awaiting my response "Yes..." I was at a loss for words. "Once you shattered the glass, you allowed her to begin growing as her own entity feeding off of the very same desires as you. Only she doesn't have a soul to get in the way. So we don't need you anymore." She said in a cold tone. "There are two of us. You'll never get away with this." I couldn't believe I was having this conversation. "Exactly, and only one of you can exist on this plane of existence. Who... Who do you think is going to win?" Deepia hung up. I laid down on my bed "think, think, think." I said to myself. I began to drift off, I was exhausted, mentally and physically.
I woke up coughing, the room was dark, but very hot. It took me only about 5 seconds to realize my apartment was in flames. I heard laughter in the background... it sounded like the "fake" laugh that Deepia and I had invented for Gossip. That's when I knew... she.. I... the other half of me was in the apartment with me too. I extended my hands out to feel the frame of my doorway leading into the hallway. I continued to feel my way out of the labyrinth I once called my apartment, now engulfed in flames, and the smoke so thick I couldn’t see anything in front of me. My heart raced, because I knew she was still in the apartment somewhere, hidden in the darkness behind the wall of smoke.
I began coughing and gasping for air still feeling my way around the apartment to get to the front door. Once I made it to the living room I had no more walls to guide me and I had to walk blindly through the open space. I was beginning to feel lightheaded, as if the floor was spinning under my feet. I knew if I didn’t get out soon, I would be dead. SMACK! “Shit! Ow, ow, ow!” I hit my knee on something But what was it? I felt my hands around the edges of a countertop…… My kitchen island! I was right beside the door now. Only a few short steps forward and I would be… that’s when I noticed it. The light from the flames were reflecting… glaring from the left side of the door. It was the reflection of her sunglasses.
Before I could react she lunged forward, grabbed me by the neck, and slammed me to the floor. This couldn’t be happening, how was this happening? I was dreaming. It was just another one of the horrible nightmares that I’d had over the past year, and I was going to wake up any second. She squeezed her hands more tightly around my neck. Every gasp of air I was able to inhale as she choked me was pure smoke at this point. I felt around me for something, anything that I could use as a weapon. The more my fingertips failed to locate an item, the more I felt my life draining. My body was going limp, in the smoke filled room I was seeing lights, little red spots.
Just as I was about to give up hope, I felt something and I was able to grab it easily. I tightened my fist, inhaled the last bit of smoke filled air I could, and smashed it into the right side of her head, causing her to fall off of me. My body instinctively began gasping for air, but the smoke had gotten thicker, and I continued to cough. I began crawling towards the door, and that's when she grabbed my leg, laughing menacingly. “You’re not real!” I screamed as she pulled me back towards her. “You’re not real!” Her laughing deepened into a demonic sound. “YOU’RE NOT REAL!”, “YOU’RE NOT REAL!”, “YOU’RE NOT REAL!”….
Suddenly her tone softened to match that of the soft, fake, uneasy voice Deepia and I had created "Of course I'm real FRIEND. You created me."
She pulled out a mirror, the very bejeweled mirror I had tossed months ago. "Give unto me, the rest of her eternity. Her fame, her fortune, her legacy, no longer hers, they belong to me." She opened the mirror and turned it to my face. "As I will it, so shall it be."
I shot up gasping for air, punching the empty space around me, my heart still racing. I realized I was in my bed, next to me was J.T. I got up and looked around the apartment. Everything looked normal. I logged in to my social media accounts to see that I didn't have the entourage of followers anymore. I sat down, realizing it was just an awful dream. I started to laugh at myself, but then I noticed it. Underneath the dresser by my front door laid a bejeweled makeup compact. Hesitant, I reached for it and sighed before opening it. "So stupid, it was a dream." I said as I opened the mirror. I could see Gossip Grim doing a music video about Gossip Pieces being dead. I threw the mirror down in fear and ran to the door to open it, but as soon as I made it into the hallway, I was right back in the apartment, mirror in hand. I did this over, and over again, but ended up right back where I started. I ran to the bedroom to get my husbands help, but soon found that J.T., the apartment... it was all an illusion. I finally realized... I was Gossips 6th soul... literally exchanged so that Gossip Grim could capitalize on her fame. Now I was the one trapped inside of the mirror that had been designed by my own wickedness, and I had unleashed a monster onto the world.
