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Brandee's POV
After coming home from working a 12-hour shift, all I wanted to do was rest my aching bones under a hot shower and crawl into my bed. I moved throughout my apartment, depositing my bag and my jacket on the couch before going up the winding, floating staircase to my room. I took off my OnClouds and stripped out of my scrubs, leaving them on the floor. I went into my bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked. I stood before the big, gold-rimmed oval mirror fixated above the sink, unpinning my hair and letting my curls fly wildly all over my head. I went over to my shower and slid the glass door open, turning the faucet until the water was rushing hot and at full blast. I let it run for a little bit before the shower head came on, and I hung a eucalyptus plant around the shower head. I then walked back across the black-tiled floors to the mirror. My fingers grazed my bra strap just as a text came through on my phone. I dropped my hand, switching it from my bra strap to my phone. I chuckled to myself under my breath, seeing that Fantasia had sent me another funny Twitter meme. It's crazy to think about how far we have come. Most people would rather die before becoming friends with their ex's partner, but there are no hard feelings between me and Taraji, and I genuinely like Fantasia as a person. They're a good match for each other. I sent a laughing emoji back to her before continuing to take my bra off. I had my fingers hooked in the band of my panties and I was about to pull them down my legs until I saw something move in the darkness of my bedroom. I froze, staring at nothingness in the reflection of the mirror. I jumped and screamed, covering my exposed breasts with my hands as an eyeball appeared in the crack of the bathroom door. Someone was in my apartment who didn't belong and I was trapped in my bathroom with nowhere to go.
I reached for the closest weapon to me which was a shaving razor. I slowly turned around, pointing the razor at the intruder. The towering, dark figure stepped through the door, revealing himself to be a tall, light-skinned man with glasses, a bald head, and a greying beard. He didn't even bother to hide his face. Somehow that realization made me even more afraid of him. Whoever he is, he doesn't care what consequences he faces as long as he gets what he came for.
Brandee: Who are you?! Why are you in my house?!
???: Calm down, Brandee. I just want to talk to you. This doesn't have to turn violent.
He raised his hands up in surrender, revealing the big butcher knife clutched in his right hand. I gasped, backing up against the sink and keeping my razor raised up with a trembling arm. My free hand was covering my breasts. All I wanted was to put my clothes back on. I'm just glad I didn't get to take my panties off. Who the hell is this man and how does he know my name when I've never seen him a day in my life? Did he just break in, or has he been here since before I came home? How did he get in without me hearing him? He must have disabled my security system.
???: To show you that I'm not a threat, I'm going to tell you my real name. My name is Kendall, and I have this problem that I believe you can help me with.
Brandee: I can't help you with shit! Get the hell out of my apartment!
Kendall: I said calm down, before you make me hurt you. You're a very beautiful woman. I would hate to have to spill your pretty blood all over this nice bathroom, but if you try some slick shit I won't hesitate to. Now put the razor down.
I kept my eyes on him as I slowly lowered the razor down to the sink counter to lay next to my phone. My body stiffened as he walked up on me, invading my personal space. He put his knife in his back pocket, staring down at me with intensity and dark desires in his eyes. He took my hands that were covering my breasts and he held them in his, squeezing them so hard that I thought my fingers would break. He let go of my hands and grabbed my chin, tilting my head back so that my neck was damn near breaking as I looked up into his eyes.
Kendall: You're a sexy one. If I wasn't so loyal to my wife, I would fuck the shit out of you right now.
I cringed at his word choice, but at the same time I was hugely relieved that he wasn't going to do to me what I feared he would do. If he has a wife, then why is he here in another woman's apartment? None of this is making sense. Maybe this is just a bad dream and I'll wake up soon. That's the only logical explanation for all this confusion.
Brandee: What do you want?
Kendall: I want you to tell me everything you know about Fantasia Barrino and Taraji P. Henson's relationship.
Brandee: What?! What, are you some desperate journalist looking for a juicy story or something? Who the fuck are you and what makes you think I know anything about their relationship?
Kendall: Don't act as if you're uninformed. I've seen you interact with them both. I just want you to tell me what you know, and then I'll leave you alone to enjoy the rest of your night.
Brandee: What makes you think I won't call the police after you're gone?
Kendall: Because if you call the police, I'll know. Then I'll have no choice but to go to the hospital you work at, find the pediatric floor, and shoot that bitch up. You think I won't? You have no idea the lengths I'm willing to go to for my wife.
Brandee: If you already know about them, then why do you want me to say something so badly? What's the point in all of this?
Kendall: You're right. I guess I can just kill you.
He jerked me around to face the mirror and he grabbed my hair, slamming my head into it. My ears began to rang as the glass shattered and pierced me all over my face. He wrapped his huge, strong forearm around my throat, pressing my body into his. I struggled in his vice grip, feeling the air being crushed from my windpipe as he put his knife up to my neck. He forced me to look at myself in the mirror, watch the life drain from my own eyes as his knife slashed across my throat. At least I can die knowing that I've done a lot of good in my life. I've helped a lot of people, and I have no regrets about being Taraji or Fantasia. This man won't get away with this. Wherever Taraji is, I hope that she's protected better than I was, because something tells me that this doesn't just end with me.
My blood sprayed all over the walls as he let go of me, my body dropping to the floor like a bag of rocks. He stepped over me and walked out of the bathroom, but not before taking a picture of me and sending it to someone. I twitched on the floor, my hands sliding on my blood as I tried to hold my neck that was being drained. I was choking on my own blood, and at that point I was just ready for the ordeal to be over so that I wouldn't have to keep suffering. When my eyes finally closed, I knew that I had found peace.
