(2. Oct.31st Friday Morning)
I jolted out of my bed, an immediate reaction from that horrible nightmare. This pounding in my head, did not help. I felt tired, barely able to stand right. My body feeling heavier than the night prior. It took me a moment to realize the knocking wasn't in my head, but coming from our front door. Panicked vibrations sounded off the door as I opened it. Standing in the doorway was a young man, dirty blonde hair. His green eyes shifted back and forth as he scanned the room. "Is Serina here?"
I leaned against the frame with a sigh. "She hasn't been home all night."
This upset him even further, noticeable with an anxious twitch, making the hickey on the right side of his neck shake. It unnerved me, 'What was he worried about?' Before I could venture to ask, he looked back over his shoulder. Staring at the door near the end of the hall. Turning back to me. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just really need to talk to her."
"I don't know what to tell you man. You can try when we get off work."
He looked back at the door again, inching steps back. "I'll try to talk to her later. Thank you." Barely finished with his sentence, he rushed back into his apartment, closing the door with a slam.
He left me standing there dumbstruck. Swimming in thought, wondering what had just happened, and why he seemed so panicked. I couldn't dally on the thought long, a thud sounded from my room. Checking what the source of the sound was, I noticed the journal. It was laid out on my desk, open as if someone had been reading it. Two words scrawled brightly onto the page. 'It's Coming.'
Work ticked by slowly, actually awake this time. Task after task, file, copy, delete. How mundane this felt, repetitive. Clicking sounded from all sides of me, droning in with the humming of my computer fan. I couldn't keep concentration, only being here a few hours, and already I wanted to leave. I was Confused from earlier, the man at the door, and the two words etched into my mind, as well as the journal. 'It's Coming.'
'What's Coming?' I threw my hands down in frustration, a childish act, but it helped relieve me. One of my coworkers looked over their cubicle. Clearly curious as to what made me hit my desk. I ignored him, like I do most people. After a few minutes, he scoffed and sat back down, letting me be with my thoughts.
I was frustrated, annoyed, and irritated. I felt even heavier than I did this morning. I couldn't think straight. Trying to do work to keep me distracted, it just cumbered me even further. The feeling of being watched, thinking workers are looking over their cubicles. It made me sweat, constantly being watched. I knew my supervisor would be on me for yesterday, but having the other workers watch me. 'That's ridiculous'
Locking my computer, I stood up, I couldn't take it anymore. Looking around, no one was looking at me. 'I guess, I'm just being paranoid.'
The thought walked with me as I made my way to the restroom. All eyes on me, yet everyone was still working. The walk was unbearable, it felt as if I was trying to sift my way through miasma. Slowly making my way, feeling drained of energy with each step. Before slipping into the men's bathroom, the book crossed my mind. Thinking of it being in my messenger bag by my work desk. I didn't know why, but I felt like I had to bring it with me. Like it was important.
I realized I wasn't the only one in the bathroom. As I entered I could hear voices of people talking. When the door clicked shut, they stopped. Standing at the sinks in front of the mirror, the man from this morning. 'Was he talking to himself?'
He stood in silence, mouthing to himself in the mirror a few last words. Spritzed water on his face, than looked at me. Faking a smile, and holding out his hand. "I'm Morris, by the way."
I took his hand in a shake, "Xander... Are you okay?" He stepped back, shocked that I would ask him that. "It's just that, you seemed pretty upset earlier."
He shook his head, forcing a half smile. "No, I'm fine. I Just have to find a way to deal with myself. "As he walked out of the restroom, I couldn't help, but feel bad for him.
(Oct. 31st Mid-Day)
I met with Serina at lunch, enjoying this time of the day. Laying out on a picnic bench, smoke rolling from my cigarette. She sat on the opposite side with her lunchbox, picking at food she had stuffed into it. I blew out some smoke, as I put out the cigarette. "Who's Morris?"
Her eyes dropped to her food, emphasizing there already narrow shape. She brushed her long brown hair out of the way. "So, you've met."
"Yah he dropped by this morning." I flicked the butt away in the grass. "Said he needed to talk to you."
She began packing up her lunch. "He was teaching me to play the violin. Than he wanted to start... Dating."
"Didn't go well?" I sat up to see her more clearly.
"Well, I'm sure you saw the hickey on his neck."
I cringed, "The sight of the thing was gross."
"He tried telling me, it was a bruise he woke up with." She laughed at her own comment. "As if I'd believe that."
She finished packing her lunchbox, wiping off the back of her dress. We headed back to the red brick building, dreading the thought of having to work.