Time’s up
It was already 8:00 pm and Kat was still getting dressed. "Shit, I’m late," she thought as she grabbed the belt loops of her two sizes too small, faded black jeans. Jumping and pulling them up with great effort. They weren't her first choice but she had mountains of dirty laundry and these jeans were the only clean pair of full-length pants she could wear out on this bone-chilling January night. She was a mess, not only was her tiny apartment covered in worn clothes but with a week's worth of bowls filled with the soggy cereal. Her anxiety and depression were competing for dominance these past few weeks. Her best friend Naomi was struck and killed by a drunk driver a month ago. Her boss refused to grant her time off to grieve or help Naomi’s family pack up her belongings from the loft she shared with her boyfriend. Kat lived in limbo, numb from Naomi’s passing, and overwhelmed with household chores but too exhausted and drained from her 9 – 5 to get anything done. Getting up each day and leaving the house clean and fed were miracles at this point. Tonight, and most nights, she’d spend hours in a full bathtub. Her tear-streaked face wafting in between the cool dry air of the bathroom and sinking into the water beneath her. Contemplating drifting away to be with Naomi. Crawling into bed, cocooned in blankets with a bag of chips, and sleeping until sunrise would be ideal but she agreed to meet Sam tonight.
He wanted to talk. Not at her place or his, but in public. They agreed to meet at the Starbucks a short bus ride from her home. He was a gentle intellect who read more than she did. His shoulder-length red curls were usually tied up in a bun. He was handsome, to say the least, his angular features coupled with his bright hazel eyes and full-grown beard always made her heart race as though it was the first time she saw him. Naomi introduced them. They met at a dive bar while she was on holiday break last December and hit it off rather quickly. She was pleasantly surprised at how fast she fell for him but his inconsistent work schedule and persistent social media flirting led to argument after argument. Insecurity and panic would set in every time he’d cancel plans to put in extra hours on set, heightened by Noami’s passing. Convinced he was cheating on her, last week she followed him on set of a commercial he was filming. Sam chatted with a woman in front of the crew when Kat approached them, taking a swing at Sam. Her hands caught air until Sam blocked a punch. Dragging a frantic frail Kat away from the crew, he broke down. “What the fuck are you doing? I work with these people Kat!”
“I’m sorry. I just – I just - I thought….”
“I can’t deal with your bullshit anymore and you’ve only gotten worse since the accident. Do this again and we’re done. For goodness sake, get help.” He left her as she dry heaved leaning against the brick wall for support. Her brown curls clung to the jagged points on the bricks. She knew he wasn’t going to give her a second chance. He wanted to break up with her. At this point, she didn’t blame him.
She grabbed her green parka, laced up her boots, and unlocked the door. A figure ran past the open door and towards the eastern stairway on the other side of her apartment. She froze. “What was that?” she whispered. The figure was tall, too tall, and too fast to be human. She peaked around the corner and dared to open the stairway door. It was clear “I must be seeing things,” she muttered as she returned to her apartment, locked the door, and headed down the western stairway. Stepping out into the dark night she took cover under her parka hood as the wind hit her face like frozen needles but the chill she felt in her bones wasn’t from the plummeting temperatures. She reached for her phone to text Sam she’d be late but it wasn’t in her pockets or purse. She turned to walk back to the building and bumped into someone. “Sorry I –“ but before she could finish she was met with a blow to her face, knocking her to the ground. As she laid on the frozen snow barren earth she saw the dark figure standing over her, fade with her vision.
Hot sour breath, a mixture of vinegar and tobacco, woke her. Yellow eyes millimeters away from her brown, stared never blinking. She could see the skin around its eyes was a sickly glistening ochre. She held her breath hoping the thing would leave or at least back up so she could inhale some fresh air. Slowly they lifted off Kat revealing its full form.
“Sam?” Kat breathed. Before her was an altered deranged Sam. The glistening ochre around his eyes spanned his face, neck, and hands. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” she yelled. She couldn’t believe he called her out tonight to prank her in tacky costume makeup. But Sam stood still breathing heavy. “Sam!” She yelled as she pulled her leg back to kick him. Before her boot connected with Sam’s calf, he spun around. Kat nearly puked with fear. Naomi made up Sam’s back. Naomi or whatever she was now, raged and screeched flying at her. Kat ducked to avoid a collision but flung herself back so hard that she smashed the back of her head on the edge of the sidewalk.
Clanging from the analog clock resounded in the bathroom. Kat awoke naked and wet. Her tanned skin, pruned, submerged in tepid bathwater. Her phone was pinging nonstop from a pissed Sam. It was 10:30 pm. Kat turned off the alarm and phone, dried her skin, and dressed in pajamas. She opened two black garbage bags filling them with her laundry, placed the cereal bowls in the dishwasher, and crawled into bed. Before diving into a bag of chips she emailed her boss – she won’t be back at the office for two weeks.