Chapter 7: Vanish

I packed my stuff from my cubby into my tote. It was time. I was the last one again, left alone in the light of the work room. I stepped out the back door. My finger hesitated above the light switch. I knew I would get in trouble for leaving the light on, but I just couldn't do it. My hand shook. I couldn't make it flip the switch. I closed the door and locked it, then pressed my back against the door. The parking lot lay out before me cast in the yellow glow from the store sign above. The hornet was the only car in the lot. Damn thing. I briefly considered trying to start it again, but no, it wasn't worth the effort.

My eyes scanned the lot, then passed the bushes to the street. The more I stared, the more images of unknown scary things flickered through my mind. No, I would not start that again. I banished the thoughts. They never completely left me, but I buried them beneath my grief for Mila.

I felt the familiar "being watched" feeling. A burning cigarette caught my eye from across the street. The more I stared, the more the figure grew defined. It looked like that of a man, well maybe. Or my fears were conjuring things again. Was he really there? Was he really watching me?

I ducked my head and looked at my worn converse shoes. When I looked up, he was gone. I must be going crazy. I was just seeing things. I clutch my tote tightly and took one brave step away from the door. I could do this. I could make it home again.

And so what if I didn't? My life hadn't amounted to much in my almost twenty-one years as it was. I never did anything useful with it. I certainly had tried, but there had never been enough money or enough opportunity for a country kid like me. Every time things were going okay, a god damned bomb got dropped on me. I was almost able to balance student loan payments, rent, and car repairs, but no, now my friend was dead and I was going to be homeless. I felt horrible for lumping the two in the same thought, but it was true. I was fucked.

My steps grew more determined as I walked. Let the darkness get me. I had nothing. I was nothing. If only I could let this fear go. I would let the darkness take me and be the nothing that I was.

I made it across the parking lot to the street corner. Another look around showed the streets empty of cars, of people, of all life. How could it be this empty? It was only midnight. Didn't anyone go out at night at all? Why was our store open so late if no one came out this way anyway?

I crossed the street and turned the corner. The silence rang in my ears. I could feel the headache in the back of neck growing as the hum in my ears grew to deafening silence. The streetlight ahead flickered. It was coming. I could feel it thrum deep down in the pit of my stomach. Fear rose in my throat as it came. Those images of scary things with teeth and claws flooded my mind. My vertigo took over causing me to drift as I walked.

I stilled. The ring of silence overtook my ears with so much intensity that I clapped my good hand to my ear. There was nothing I could do. If I ran, it would be that much worse.

My heart sank. I had nothing, I was nothing. Let it have me.

The pins and needles started in my toes. I could feel it crawling up my feet. The darkness was here. It had found me.

"Kira!"

My eyes snapped up. A man was running towards me. Why was he...?

"Kira, keep going!" Anton shouted.

I blinked. "I..."

"Come on!"

I wrenched one foot forward. It felt like it was stuck to the ground. I stumbled. The sensation of wanting to walk forward and not being able to triggered my vertigo. I went down. My bag broke the fall of one elbow, but I skinned the palm of my hand as the injured one skimmed the pavement. My legs felt tied down.

Anton reached me and pulled at my arms. My knees dragged across the pavement. He was surprisingly strong for such a skinny guy.

"Get up."

"Wha-?"

"Run." He said as he pulled me from the grasp of the darkness.

I kicked my feet like I was fighting tightening fingers around my legs. With each inch, I grew freer until finally my foot pushed off the ground. He pulled me after him. I slowly caught my feet under me until I was running. He turned and pulled at my good arm dragging me after him in a dead run. We ran. I had no idea where we were running to, but eventually the streetlights flickered back on. He kept going, pulling me along with him. By the time we reached the stairs to the apartment, I was huffing so hard I couldn't stand. He released my arm and I sagged against the stair rail.

After several gulping breaths, I looked up. I still couldn't form words, but I was hoping my intense stare conveyed my question.

"Get inside," he ordered. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"What...?" I huffed.

He pushed me up the stairs with both hands on my shoulders in a forceful shove. I would have fought, just on principle, but I couldn't hardly breathe. I stumbled into the apartment and managed to land in the dining chair. He locked the door behind us then leaned against the door looking relieved.

"What the hell?" I puffed. "How did you even know I was...?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "Take better care of yourself. You look terrible." With that he turned into the makeshift bedroom and drew the curtain closed.

"What the fuck!? You can't expect me not to ask questions. Anton!" I waited outside the curtain for a minute. When it was clear he wasn't going to answer me, I ripped the sheet out of the way, threatening the integrity of the whole clothes line. I looked around the messy room. He was gone. The bed was empty, the glass door was closed. He was just gone.

I would have heard the sliding glass door open or close, so where did he go? I walked to the door and looked out on the three-foot balcony. Down below on the dark street corner I saw the burning red ember of a cigarette butt. Just like before, the more I stared, the more the figure of a man took shape. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass as I watched him. Was it Anton or someone else? And why was he always there. A chill ran up my spine. Maybe he was the darkness.

Ha! What a silly thought. I pulled away from the glass. I was being absurd. Absolutely, freaking crazy. I busied myself with making pasta from a box. As the water boiled, I rubbed my aching shoulder. I really needed to get it looked at. I set my alarm for 8 am, scarfed down the hot fake cheese noodles, then passed out with bowl still in my hand.

I woke with a start to the annoying beep of the alarm clock. The empty bowl and fork tumbled off the bed with a clatter. I punched the clock until it was quiet then slowly got ready to go to urgent care. I passed Mila's bedroom. Loud snores filled the room. I pushed the curtain aside to find Anton draped across the day bed with one sock on and no shirt.

"Anton!" I said sharply.

He didn't move.

"Anton!"

A grunt escaped him then the snoring returned. My eyes squeezed shut as I rubbed at the headache settling between them. My life couldn't be more of a mess right now. I hauled my heavy purse over my shoulder and headed out.