Exotic Indian Rose Ritual

"Neena looks coolly at me. "Actually Vyerka," she says slowly, "you had it (she glances at her watch) two hours ago."How does she know? I was alone? I looked! By now, though, it is clear to anyone that Neena is right because my face has blushes a deep red. I look down to hide it. Looking down. Another admission of guilt. Or maybe she just thinks I am being respectful."Here," continues Neena. "A night cap!"She hands me a small shot glass filled with a fawn liquid. It could almost be Bailey's Irish Cream. I don't really feel I have any choice but to drink it. It has a musty, "hairy", taste. For a second or two after I drain the glass there is just the after-taste; odd, not alcoholic, not pleasant but not unpleasant either.Then, suddenly, my stomach heaves. I dash to the toilet and the remains of my contraband meal spew down into the pan. I heave again. More. And again. More. Now vomit is filling my nose and mouth and streams down into the toilet. I turn to look up at Neena. I can hardly. " And she would never say it, butit was implied indirectly: keeping her here having access to Miranda'sblood and DNA, makes life easier should those hurdles present themselves.I hesitated for a great while before succuming. "Okay do it."******I returned to my room, Miranda's old apartment, torn with conflictingemotions. I felt very sorry for Miranda. My heart was breaking. She wouldnever be the woman she once was. And undoubtedly, being unable to move orspeak, being trapped in an unmoving shell of a body, staring every day ata face that wasn't hers, would drive her slowly to insanity. It was avery dark fate.I sat down on the couch near the entranceway and wept. But these were nottears of remorse for Miranda's condition although they should have been.They were tears of shame. I had come to enjoy being Miranda greatly. Iwas relieved, and embarrassed at my relief that there would be no moreobstacles to my being her forever. Being Miranda Cable was intoxicating.I was respected, wealthy.
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