Crushed Velvet

He stood at the door, watching her carry the two suitcases.

"I don't care about you anymore," she hissed. "Can't you get that through your thick skull?!"

"But...but," Jason stammered. "I...love you."

"But I DON"T LOVE YOU!" Candice's face was flush with exasperation. "Not anymore. He's my life now. We're getting married and you are out of my life." She turned, her raven hair catching the moonlight, heading for the Jag parked at the curb.

"Candice...I can't live without you." He was pleading. He knew she hated to hear anyone beg. But he needed her.

She spun around and raised one hand into the air.

"Fine. Have it your way. You won't have to." With a flourish, she dropped her arms and spat on the ground. Then she jumped in the passenger side of the black car and it sped away, tires squealing in defiance of his cries.

"Candice!"

After ten days of doing nothing, barely eating, Jason began wandering around the house. In one room, he found the box. It was a plain white box with embossed lettering. It was so faded, he couldn't make it out. Curiosity got the best of him, he sat down and opened it.

Shock registered on his face as he recognized the contents. It was the black velvet dress she wore on their honeymoon, twelve years ago. Tears welled up in his eyes as he recalled those glorious days of their early marriage. Sobbing, he held the dress to his face and crushed its silkiness to his cheeks. He fell asleep still holding the dress and dreamed of her. From that night on, he slept with the dress next to him.

One day, Jason awoke, certain of his course. He dressed, shaved and got into his beat up Caprice. And drove over to The Robertson Building, where Candice worked. He waited for her by the fountain outside, watching all the important people of the world pass by. Then he saw her.

"Candice," he called out. "Over here."

Spotting him, she stood, open mouthed in disbelief. He walked over to her.

"Lets have lunch."

"No, Jason," she finally responded. "I told you it's over. Now leave me alone or else I'll do something drastic. I swear." She walked away.

Jason went home and cried, holding the dress near. Getting up the courage, he dialed her number.

"Hello?"

"Candice..."

"I warned you. Goodbye, Jason." She hung up.

As he held the dress to his face, it began to move. Trying to pull it away, he found he couldn't. The more he struggled, the more it entwined its softness around him. Soon it was so tight, it began cutting off the flow of oxygen to his lungs. Dropping to the floor, the black dress wrapped itself around his entire body, becoming an undulating dark mass.

Then, slowly, all movement ceased. Silence closed into the house like an invading mist.

Miles away, Candice put down the phone.

"Who was it, honey?" called a voice from the bathroom.

"Nobody," she replied. A cruel smile played across her face.

"Hey, David," Candice got up from the bed. "Lets go shopping." She moved to the mirror and began admiring her body. "I need a new dress."