It was a big change for a country girl like me to move to the big city;
but I needed a change in my life.
I would miss my family very much, but I wanted to be independent and live the experiences that
living in the capital could give me. It was difficult for my parents to assimilate it,
but fortunately they supported me from the first second and placed all their trust in me.
The fact of having their approval was something very important to me.
So, nervous but very excited, I moved to New York. I imagined myself as a modern business woman and
had big plans for my future. I had saved a good amount of money from years of living
with my parents, and now I planned to use it to open my own hat shop. But first I needed
to renew my wardrobe. Because the clothes I had were of a more old-fashioned and classic style.
I went to a large shopping center to be able to find all kinds of clothes in one place. After
shopping for various dresses, t-shirts, pants, and shoes, I walked over to the lingerie section.
I was amazed at how many options there were. Transparencies, lace, panties so and so small that
I didn't even understand the function of wearing something like that. But I knew that it was just
one more part of my rural upbringing that would have to go. After all, she was now a "city woman".
As I was hesitating between two options, wondering whether to choose the more conservative bra
or the more daring one, a saleswoman came over to help me. At first I didn't even realize she was
a worker, because she wasn't dressed in the fancy clothes that the others were wearing.
In fact, the woman looked almost like a witch from a children's storybook.
My reaction must have been obvious on my face, as the saleswoman told me not to be scared,
because she was only there to help me if I was having a hard time making up my mind.
I was embarrassed, and after apologizing, I asked her opinion between the two bras.
The shop assistant grabbed the most daring bra. She complimented my figure and told me that this
garment "lifted and supported better", leaving a much more beautiful neckline.
I tried it on in the locker room, and I could see the difference the worker was referring to.
I never thought that underwear could be so important and that it could give me so much
satisfaction. When I took it off and put it back in its box, I saw that it had a strange pattern on
the seam. Behind each cup was a five-pointed star with an eye-shaped oval in the center.
I didn’t give it much importance, because it was probably something typical of the
designer of the brand, and I didn’t want to show my little knowledge with the clothes.
When I left the dressing room determined to buy the bra, the saleswoman who was with me
was gone. I wanted to thank her for her help, but the truth is that I was a little
glad that she was gone, for some reason that woman made me shiver. I turned to
another worker and went home with a big smile after a completely fascinating day of shopping.
In no time, I found the perfect place to set up my own hat shop. It was a good and busy
area. And the rent wasn't too high. So I went ahead with my project. I was having great luck.
The paperwork progressed quickly and I was finally able to open my own business.
It took a few days for people to take notice of the store after I decorated it properly.
As soon as the first buyers stopped in front of my small storefront,
I began to have a great rush of customers, giving me an encouraging first week.
I felt a little silly thinking about it, but the truth is that every time I put on that new bra,
people, but especially men, multiplied in the store. At first they pretended to be looking for
a gift for a mother or sister, and some actually bought what I suggested, but most seemed to be
there for me. I was dying of embarrassment when I saw his eyes drifting from my face to my chest.
I think I was blushing more than them. I, who was a shy girl, began to receive so many invitations
that it became difficult to manage all my appointments.
Life was smiling at me, I didn't know how I could have waited so long to move to the big city.
One of my first dates was with a Polynesian who surprised me by taking me to the Natural
History Museum to see an exhibit from the famous Cabot Museum in Boston.
The exhibit itself was a bit grotesque, but Manuel, as his name was, was a lover of antiques.
A few days later, another young man took me to see a very interesting show,
which was a cross between a movie and a play.
Many people in the audience left the auditorium in a daze, but I loved the experience.
My social life was in full swing and I couldn't bring myself to tell my parents about my new life.
What would they think with their old-fashioned ideas? Hanging out with all those men? There
is no need to ask what the Reverend, who was a friend of the family, would say.
My parents might start to worry, and there was no need to.
I noticed that my dates became more passionate on the days that I was wearing that special
bra. I know it sounds weird, but it happened. I know that it helped me a lot with my figure,
but I have to confess that the attraction it provoked was enormous. Sometimes I even put it
on for several days in a row without washing it, so I didn't have to wait for it to dry.
My way of being was changing a lot, it wasn't just dating anymore,
I even had a glass of wine from time to time. Me, who had been the three-time winner of the
Women's Christian Temperance Union's annual contest. This may sound like an exaggeration,
but there were warning signs in my head telling me loud and clear: “Girl, slow down…”.
Soon my dreams began to haunt me. Every night I tossed and turned, anguished and tormented.
At first it started innocently enough. I dreamed about the day I bought the bra
in the lingerie section. I relived the purchase with that saleswoman who looked like a witch.
This scene that recurred in my dreams seemed to worry me a lot, although I didn't know why.
It was as if from the beginning there was some hidden threat in that encounter. I couldn't
take this endless repetition every night anymore, so I decided to take some action.
Not knowing what I expected to gain from it, I went back to the lingerie department to look for
the old saleswoman. Somehow I wasn't surprised that she wasn’t there. I arrived around the
same time of day that I had first seen her, but maybe she had another shift that week.
Anyway, I found the manager and asked him. Of course, I couldn't tell him her name.
Nobody calls a worker by her name, and if she had something written on her clothes, I hadn't
noticed. So I tried to describe her. The man told me that there was no clerk with that description.
He asked me if I was sure I had seen her there, and by the time I noticed, he had started to let
his eyes settle on my chest. With a bad face, I left the mall. Perhaps the search for that
lady was absurd. What was I trying to find? My nightmares were getting worse. That lady
still visited me in dreams but they were no longer simple repetitions of that first encounter. She
started appearing in the bedroom with me, looking at me like she was begging me to do something.
At first I couldn't say precisely what she wanted, though I knew it must be something wrong.
But each night the dream grew clearer and lasted longer,
so that at last I could see where she was pointing with her hand. She was pointing at my bra box.
The room was dark, but I could see the bra, which was sticking out of the box,
because the seams gleamed eerily along the star-shaped pattern on the cups.
I didn't understand why my imagination insisted on the bra. The woman wanted me to wear my bra.
There didn't seem to be any harm in it, and maybe by doing what she wanted, she could stop
tormenting me. At least those were my half-formed thoughts as I groggily got up from my bed.
Still in the dream, I turned my back on the old woman and let the nightgown
fall to the floor. I took the bra and started to fasten it. Despite the darkness and my sleepiness,
I was able to fasten the bra with surprising ease.
It was almost as if an invisible force or entity was guiding my clumsy fingers.
Despite the strange inexplicable glow, the bra didn't feel any different. I turned to see if
I had the old witch's approval, but she was gone! Now something else had taken her place.
I started to scream, but the daze of the sight drowned the sound in my throat. Where
the lady had been a few moments before, now stood an enormous barrel-shaped thing,
with what appeared to be starfish sprouting from both ends of its vertically ridged
trunk. I think it was tilted a bit so as not to scrape the ceiling, it was so big.
I suddenly woke up. It was quite a relief, because the dream was over.
But the terror returned when I looked at my body and saw that I was wearing the bra.
I clung to the hope that sleepwalking, I had gotten up in the night. And I got ready to go
to work as usual. But I couldn't get the fact that it hadn't been a dream out of my mind.
So, I had the idea to call the reverend of my town, a good friend, to tell him what
had happened to me and ask for his advice. Surely he would know to tell me the words I
needed to stop living with those nightmares. At lunchtime I called him, and worrying about
my distress, he decided to take a bus to talk in person in a few days. I told him several times
that he didn't need to make that trip for me, but the man insisted on doing it. When I hung up the
phone, I experienced the greatest sense of calm in several weeks. I was able to spend the rest
of the day working, quiet, and more relaxed. The discomfort returned at night, when bedtime
approached. I took some pills recommended at the pharmacy and had no trouble falling asleep.
However, the sedative effect made me sleep so soundly that not even my own screams woke me up.
I dreamed that I was in bed, and I was awakened by a strange supernatural pipe coming from my
dresser. Reluctantly I opened my eyes, or dreamed I did it. And there was the witch
and the creature. The old woman laughed, but I couldn't hear a sound, and she came over to me.
This time, she not only did beckon to me, she held something in her hands, gesturing for me to take
it. It was a moment before my eyes adjusted to the gloom to allow me to see what I was holding.
But of course it was the bra, shining like before.
Its straps fluttered gently, eagerly reaching out to hold me.
With no will of my own to fall back on, I got out of bed, tossing aside my nightgown,
I went over to the witch and put on my bra. Suddenly, everything around me, the furniture,
the two horrible presences, even the walls of the room, collapsed and I found myself falling
into the void. At first I expected it to be a fainting from shock. But a new scene began to
take shape to replace the old one. And although I couldn't feel anything firm under my feet,
it seemed like I wasn't falling anymore. All around me, on all sides, what seemed to be two
powerful jaws began to emerge from the darkness and began to close on me. Floating I began to
curl up into a ball. As I buried my head into my chest, I noticed that I was now completely naked.
I instantly realized what it was that was trying to swallow me. They were the two
cups of the bra of doom, which grew to fantastic proportions and joined to form a sphere around me.
And right there… I woke up. Although I still didn’t dare to open my eyes. I expected to be back
in my room, but I knew I wasn't. In the distance I could hear strange winds whipping furiously.
Then came the terrifying screams of faceless, winged demons.
I couldn't keep my eyes closed any longer and the first thing I saw when I opened them was more
darkness. Immediately a glow began to grow in the distance. At first it was just a dim light, like
a false dawn, but then a shape began to appear. It looked like an accumulation of luminous globes.
As I took a closer look at the thing approaching me, I realized what was
happening... The bra had turned into a portal. Now my thoughts and memories are confused. I'm
not even sure how, or if I can communicate all of this. But I must try to share my story with you.
The rest of me is rapidly dissolving into the gelatinous mass, but before I no longer exist,
and only my breasts remain, let me leave you with my sad story as a warning... Learn from
my experience. It's too late for me, but not for you. Don't put on the bra of perdition!