Chapter 1: Of the Things Seen, and Unseen
The air was frigid in my second story apartment as I woke with a start, heart pounding. It was the type of waking that happens after a nightmare, but the dream I could not recall. All I could make sense of was the sweat dripping down my skin, sticking my curls to my face and neck, and the sound of drumming in my ears. I put my hand to my chest to steady my breathing as I looked around the room. 'Why is it so damn cold?' I asked myself. The orange glow of a streetlight scattered long stripes across my bedroom as it passed through my crumbling blinds, illuminating parts of the shelf of dead plants, books and childhood memorabilia standing across from my bed.
The clock beside me read "3:07 AM" in small green digits. This was the fourth time since I'd moved into this decrepit excuse for a building two weeks ago that I had woken up like this- early morning, heart pounding, chest heaving and freezing. The only time the damn air conditioner seemed to work was two hours past midnight, an unfortunate occurrence in late July. Here in this part of Texas, air conditioning was not a mere luxury item- it was a necessity. With humidity levels reaching ninety percent, and temperatures topping one hundred and two, it felt like the atmosphere was heavy around me, sticking to me like a second skin, pools of water forming on me just from moving through the air. The genius that chose the color scheme for the run down brick complex I currently lived in must have never set foot in the area on an average summer day, because they decided a deep blue (so dark it looked black) would be the most suitable color to reflect the angry rays the sun had to rain down.
Needless to say, the majority of the day, my 700 square foot apartment was hot. Why the air only functioned at night was a vague mystery- perhaps because it didn't have to work as hard? Regardless- it was now entirely too cold for me. I shivered under my blanket, and felt my toes- ice cubes attached to my feet. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and decided to go investigate the thermostat. I would probably regret turning it off come 10 am when the sun peaked over the sky rises to bless my window with UV radiation, but for now, the threat of my fingers falling off from frostbite was more pressing.
Every other night I had decided to roll over and ignore the layer of ice forming on my body, but not tonight.
I walked to the door and reached for the knob when I noticed it was slightly ajar. Surprised, I took a step back and cocked my head. I lived alone, and no late night suitors had graced the threshold of this shit-hole yet. I usually disliked having the door closed in this manner while sleeping. I was quite uneasy not being able to make out the walls of the hall leading to my room from behind a door- in fact, I distinctly remembered dropping my work boots in front of the fully open bedroom door as I heaved myself forward to bed. I looked around the floor for any semblance of black spots that looked like the shape of footwear. The boots were nowhere to be seen. The dark space between the edge of the door and the frame seemed ominous, unsettling. I held my breath as I went to peak around slightly when the door was pulled shut with force from
the other side.
Alarmed and panicked I froze. I couldn't breathe, and stood listening for footsteps on the scratched linoleum. My hand shook as I reached for something, anything, to defend myself with in the dark. The first thing my hand touched was the prickly spine of a wilted cactus. An involuntary "SHIT" escaped my mouth as my hand recoiled back. I threw myself back against the wall behind the door and put my forearm across my face to muffle the sounds of hyperventilating. Tears began to form in my eyes as I strained to hear any response on the other side.
There was none. Was I being robbed? Who the fuck would steal from me? Good luck getting anywhere with those empty ATM cards and the wallets that have seen more dust than dollar bills.
I waited for a minute to steady my breathing and collect myself, then I placed on hand firmly on the door and looked to my side to actually see what was available. Scanning through my options, I saw just how vulnerable I was. I looked to a half unpacked box about hip height and tried to recall what was hurriedly stashed away in it. I saw the shiny reflection of a small crystal orb the size of a golf ball connected to a king metal looking rod-my curtain rod- not yet hung out of sheer laziness. Bless my lazy soul. I strained to reach it without letting go of the door-an irrational fear told me to hold on to it, as though I could realistically stop the intruder from swinging it wide open even with all my body weight against it. When my hand couldn't reach, I took a breath and held it- balancing on one foot and tried to grab it with the other. An unlikely acrobatic feat for most people, to be sure, but nothing to me- still frozen toes aside.
I managed to lift it out of the box carefully when it began to slip. I lunged to grab it as the end smacked the hard floor with an echoing crack. I immediately swung around with both hands on the rod like a bat, ready to hit a home run with this guy's head.
It was then that I realized I had let go of the door. My heart began to pound again and my hands shake as I saw the knob begin to wiggle in the now terrifying glow of the street light. It creaked open ever so slightly and as I screamed out loud, it SLAMMED shut again.
This time I was ready. I grabbed the door knob and yanked it open, swinging the rod recklessly into the darkness with my other hand- expecting to make contact with the soft body of some brute hell bent on stealing the only thing of worth in my place- namely- my name brand Pop Tarts.
Only- the collision never came. My arm swung wide into empty space and left my eyes darting around in the darkness, looking for a human shape to take aim at. I could find none. Thinking that the intruder jumped back from the door as I had screamed, I slammed my foot forward and brought down my curtain rod over my head. Still nothing, only the "swish" of the air parting as my makeshift weapon sliced through it.
Confused and about to wet myself out of fear, I fumbled on along the wall on my left looking for the light switch. I held my breath as I threw them into the "ON" position, and realized something was not right.
I was alone in the hall.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone