right where you left me (madisen’s version)

There’s only been one news story in Indianapolis that anyone wants to talk about: Taylor Swift is performing in Indy next year. I wouldn’t consider myself a Swiftie, but I do like a lot of her stuff. “Right where you left me” came on shuffle one day and I couldn’t help but picture it as a more haunting scene – literally. Enjoy.

“Do you see that table over there, in the corner?” Brian pointed. “That’s where he did it, left her.”

“And she… died?” Lindsey raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s go sit. They say men feel icy hands around their throats as she tries to take revenge on the man who left her.”

She reluctantly took his hand and followed him to the dirty table and chairs rotting at the back of the restaurant. She sat with her back to the wall looking out across the dilapidated room.

What a sad sight, she thought as Brian sat across from her.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to orient herself in this stupid dare. But when she opened them, Brian was gone and the restaurant had come to life.

The noise dialed up slowly as she shook her head. Her hair was pinned up and she was in a sparkling silver dress. She was probably going crazy, but she was definitely seeing this.

Chandeliers and sequined dresses cast refracted rainbows around the room to a melody of clinking glasses and silverware. Cigarette smoke curled around diners’ heads, rising into a cloud above them. A waiter stopped at the table to refill her wine from the cooler stand set up next to the table. He snapped a quick bow and she raised the glass to her lips – a perfectly chilled rosé.

She was watching two women whisper conspiratorially at another table while their dates ordered more drinks at the bar when the chair across from her moved. A man sat and flashed a dazzling Hollywood smile.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, dolly,” he said. Lindsey cringed at the nickname but felt herself smile.

“I’ll always wait for you, dear,” she felt herself say.

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” He cleared his throat and leaned forward.

She felt her heart rate pick up in anticipation.

“I hate to do this to you, dolly, but I’ve met someone.”

The sound around her died. A hair pin dropped from one of her curls and struck the floor. It sounded as loud as a gong to her. “Someone,” she repeated.

“Yes, someone else. And you’re a great gal for a fun time, but this woman is one you bring home to meet your folks.”

Lindsey felt the awful empty weight of those words settle over her like dust.

“She’s someone you marry,” she said. “And I’m not.” Her eyes bored into him. She saw red.

“I knew you’d understand, dolly. Now, I’ve already settled the bill, but I do need to dash. Thanks for being so swell about this.” He stood. So did she.

Her blood pounded in her temples. She reached out, grabbed his tie, and yanked him toward her. He stumbled into the table, wine glasses scattering, shattering. She pulled him close and whispered, “This is what I should have done.”

She grabbed the nape of his neck and slammed his face into the table. Blood spattered the white tablecloth. She picked up an empty wine bottle and cracked it over his head. He collapsed to the floor. She kicked his shoulder to roll him onto his back and straddled him. Her knees pinned his arms as she wrapped her hands around his throat and squeezed. His Adam’s apple bobbed in her grip as he gasped for breath. Eventually, it stopped.

A voice whispered in her ear as she stood, “Seems I’m not the only one.”

The room was dingy and decayed once more. Lindsey looked down to see Brian lying still on the ground, blank eyes staring at the ceiling.

Cold dread trickled down her spine as a laugh echoed through the room.