November Rain
As luck had it, there was nobody else in the garage to witness her breakdown. Heather made a beeline for her car, her mind in turmoil and her anxieties high. She couldn’t remember where she had parked it and tried to calm down by reminding herself that she would have lost her car even in a normal state of mind. Deciding to start with the first floor, she made her away across the long first level. Not finding it there, she headed toward the stairwell.
As she neared the short staircase to the second floor, Heather noticed she wasn’t alone. If she continued toward her destination, she would have to pass a tall, scraggly man with misplaced facial features and an assaulting odor. If she turned around, the stranger would know she was avoiding him and the option almost felt more dangerous.
She refused to show her fears to anyone and told herself he was just looking for his own car. He continued to stand very still in his spot where the staircase turned and Heather’s hair stood on end. She wouldn’t have been as freaked out if he hadn’t been staring at her so intently.
She was usually a little pensive in the garage as there were clients who personally blamed her for terminating their parental rights. The scraggly man was not involved in any of her cases but still, he seemed oddly familiar.
When her only choice was to pass him or to turn around, Heather turned quickly, hoping to change her destiny along with the direction.
“Do you have the time?” he asked hoarsely.
His voice was worse than his appearance. The mocking drawl that oozed out of his snarled lips was more chilling than nails on a chalkboard. Goosebumps ran up and down her arms, warning her that terror was on its way. When frightened, Heather’s first reaction was to freeze. It took all of her courage and strength to submit to eye contact but she forced herself to turn around and face him.
His smile chilled her so badly that she had to pull both arms in toward her chest to ward away the cold. She glanced away only long enough to peek at her watch.
“It’s 1:11 p.m.,” she answered hurriedly.
She dismissed him without words as she turned and walked back the way she came. When she heard his first footfall and realized it was directed toward her instead of the stairwell he came from, Heather picked up her pace. She power walked the first level armed with nothing more than prayers of protection. When she felt him following closely behind, she stuck her right hand into her purse to search for a sharp object. She felt a pen and held tightly to the end of it, trying to imagine how much damage she could do by stabbing him in the eye with a Bic. She also wondered if she would ever be able to stab anyone in the eye.
“Wait! Come back!’ he called out tauntingly.
His tone was unmistakable. The sarcasm in his voice sent up fierce red flags and Heather’s clumsy speed walk turned into a half-run.
She looked around the garage for some help and wondered why she always found herself so isolated during times of peril. She wondered if life really played out like in the movie Final Destination and if all the random attacks she’d experienced were death trying to take her again and again.
Her dark thoughts unnerved her almost as much as the man following her. His footsteps invaded her personal space and she could feel his hot breath on her neck. The tiny hairs stood up in salute and it felt as though tiny bugs were crawling all over her. Her skin became icy and her knees started to weaken.
Knowing she only had the capacity to run for so long before she finally facing her fears, Heather abruptly stopped walking.
“What do you want?” she asked without turning around.
Her voice was firm but she stood with her back to him. As scared as she was about getting a sudden bullet lodged in the back of her brain, she was more afraid to turn around to a bullet in the face. Heather decided that she preferred to face her fears backwards.
When he didn’t answer, she pushed away thoughts of what his arm would feel like suddenly curling around her waist.
Unable to withstand one more hot exhalation on the back of her neck, Heather forced herself to turn around while envisioning herself pulling a band-aid from her knee. The horror took on new meaning when she saw that nobody stood behind her.
She still felt the hot breath on her neck and could still sense an ominous presence. Heather ran back across the first level of floors but the warm puffs on