Lovefool

“Dear, I fear we’re facing a problem. You love me no longer, I know, and maybe there is nothing that I can do…”

Emily tore the page from her notebook and held it up to the red candle she had burning in front of her. She watched the flames lick the edge and quickly envelope the page. She dropped it in the pot at the corner of her desk just before the flames reached her skin. Smoke puffed from the pot as the page was reduced to ash. Emily prodded her bottom lip with the end of her pen as she thought. Behind her chair, she heard shuffling against the ground. The flame of the candle flickered and wavered.

Emily picked up her sewing project, continuing up the seam she had started. The small doll was just beginning to take form. She hummed to herself as she pierced the fabric with bright pink thread.

“My mom says I shouldn’t bother, you know,” Emily said aloud as she stitched. “That ‘I outta stick to another man.’ A man who ‘surely deserves me.’” Emily chuckled to herself. She left a small opening to the doll. She began pulling out little jars from the drawer of her desk, inspecting each delicately. From them, she drew out dried rose petals, black pepper, rosemary, cloves, and a cat’s whisker. She tapped a bit of the contents of each jar into the opening of the doll. She grabbed a small pair of sewing scissors and stood up. A muffled sound began as she turned, scissors in hand.

Cam really began struggling now, pulling at the thick ropes keeping him tied to his chair. He’d been here for over two hours since what he thought was going to be a steamy valentine date had gone horrifically wrong. His head still throbbed with pain where she struck him over the head.

“I really think you do,” Emily sighed dreamily.

Sam jerked his head back as Emily advanced on him, trying to scream through the gag. But it was no use, part of the appeal of this outing was Emily having her own house at the end of cul de sac. The irony of him thinking no one would hear her screams was not lost on him. He felt panic rise in his throat as she brought the scissors close to his face.

“Hold still,” she admonished. “I don’t wanna cut you!”

Emily cut a jagged line across the hair hanging in limp strands across his face. Satisfied she gripped the clumps of hair she cut and walked back to her desk. She pushed the sweaty hair into the doll. She looked down at her phone and scrolled the page she was on using her finger.

“Okay, next,” she said, her eyes roaming the love spell instructions she found on the first page of Google. “Write your intentions on a piece of paper, fold it towards you, and put it inside the doll. Remember, 3 is a magic number. Hmm,” Emily hummed.

Sam felt cold sweat drip down his back as he regained his composure. This would certainly be the last time he’d be using a dating app for a while. At least she looked like her pictures. Sam tried to wriggle his wrists free but the ropes bound him tight to the chair. He looked around the room, but there wasn’t much he could use to break free that wasn’t on her desk. He turned his head to the side and say a pair of car keys on her bed. Maybe that could work?

Sam reached his hand back, but it hardly moved. He tried leaning his chair back but it began to tip precariously. He would have to try to shuffle back towards the bed. It would make a lot of noise so he would have to wait until Emily left the room. Sam’s escape plan spun in his mind as Emily’s pen scratched across the page.

“Love me, love me, say that you love me. Fool me, fool me, go on and fool me. Love me, love me, no longer pretend that you love me.”

Emily recited as she wrote. The instructions said the results would be better if she spoke her intentions out loud. She folded the note three times toward her and sewed up the gash in the doll’s side. Finally reaching the bottom of the spell, she laughed to herself.

“Whoops, looks like I do need that blood. Just a drop will do.” She collected her finished voodoo doll and the sewing needle, quickly running the needle tip through the  candle’s flame.

Sam began yelling again, shaking his head. This girl was nuts. He tipped the chair backward, falling on the floor just in front of her bed. He was able to swipe the keys, but took the brunt of the fall on his shoulder. Somehow, the knots keeping him in place stayed put.

“Oh goodness!” Emily exclaimed. She pushed him upright again with an unexpected amount of strength. “Don’t worry, I’m almost finished.” She said giddily. Sam felt a sharp pinch in his thumb as Emily pricked it with the needle. She pressed the blood onto the front of the doll.

She placed the doll back on her desk and confirmed the steps on the love spell. She clapped happily; the spell should be complete. She walked over and removed the gag from Sam’s mouth. Sam sucked in a deep breath.

“Well, how do you feel?”

“You crazy bitch! Let me out right now before I call the cops,” Sam yelled, thrashing in his chair. Emily frowned deeply and went back to check the spell. Damn, she was certain she did it correctly. Sam continued, invigorated by the slight amount of freedom.

“Do you hear me? Untie me!”

“Do you think I wanted this?” Emily snapped. “You consume my thoughts day and night, but you barely know me. I work right across the street from you and you’ve never noticed. You only noticed me when I uploaded a profile to Bumble and messaged you first. It’s maddening! You hardly know I exist and I can’t seem to care about anything but you!”

Emily brought her fist down on the desk with a bang. Sam suddenly slumped over in his chair. She gasped and looked down. The needle in her hand had gone straight through the doll’s chest. She placed her hand gently on his neck.

“Crap!” Emily exclaimed. She slumped back into her desk chair and spun around. She removed the pin from the doll and blew out the red candle. She drummed her fingers against her phone. She needed a new tab for a Google search: “Spells to revive a lover from the dead.”