WTF! Is my shed being confiscated? Technically it's not mine; however, I have been living here for the past three weeks, so whoever it is can fuck off and squat somewhere else. It's the rusty blue truck from earlier parked in front of it. I get behind a tumbleweed and duck down. My blond hair blends in and I am dirty enough to go unnoticed by this asshole. He starts to drag a black trash bag from the truck bed and whatever it is has some weight behind it. As he drags it through the dirt, it snags on a rock and tears open. "Dammit!" He screams and looks around to make sure this shit hole is as deserted as it appears. He spots my tumbleweed and squints. Did he see me? My stomach feels like I swallowed a brick. I heave and manage to keep the hot dog from coming back up. He shakes his head and continues to drag the bag into the shed.
This guy chills me to the core of my bones. I know he is a piece of shit, from fifty feet away. The wind blows the tumbleweed away and I have to scramble to get it back. As I swiftly pull my lifeline back in front of me, I smell something familiar...my sister's fruity smelling perfume. A waft of it, only for a second is all it takes for me to know she's here trying to tell me something.
After he comes back into the sunlight, he gets in his truck and speeds away leaving the shed wide open. I make a beeline for it and slam the shed door closed behind me. I gag as I spin around to see what"s the special delivery this man was so eager to drop off. Whatever he dropped off in my shed is rotting,enveloping the shed in an odoriferous smell. A smell this putrid can only be one thing, a dead body.
I inhale through my mouth and slowly pull at the drawstring of the black trash bag revealing what I knew all along. Blue lips, pale skin and red hair are the resulting features of a young red haired girl that lays before me. I start to sob; this could have been my sister. The similarities are striking. Solia had red hair and pale skin too. Omg! I turn my head to the side and vomit everywhere, spewing my lunch. One thing I loved about this sweat box was the semi-permanent sense of security that I had while living here. Now, I have to find that somewhere else.
As I reach for my jug of water to rinse my mouth, a waft of my sister's perfume hits my nostrils again, with more persistence than the last. The scent is so strong, overpowering the smell of this deceased girl. I feel her presence and realize what she is trying to tell me. This guy is the same person who killed her. When he comes back, I will follow him. I will catch him and eventually kill him. His days are numbered.
Without looking at the body in the bag, I start to pace. I need to come up with a plan fast. What are the odds he comes to my shed? My sister's spirit is counting on me to nail him. I could kill him, by doing just that. A nail gun straight to this guy's forehead. That would teach him. Don't fuck with family. I laugh erratically, but stop when the illuminating light from the window is disrupted for a brief moment. He's back already! Shit! "What to do?" I whisper. I perch behind the rusted out lawn chair I've been sleeping on and pray to god he doesn't find me. If he does, I'm next. He opens the shed and looks around. He has to know someone is in here. He left the shed wide open and when he came back, it was closed. He spots my vomit on the floor and frowns. I am so dead!
I expected him to search the shed in a hurry to find the owner of the vomit, but he made a beeline for his truck, hauling another black bag from the truck bed. I run outside quietly and go behind the shed. He knows someone discovered his dumping area, so why would he drag another black bag out? I cover my nose and mouth with my hands, attempting to hold in another round of puke and hear him speed away. I remove my hand and blow chunks everywhere, no longer holding back. It may be a couple of days before I eat anything again. The smell of decay is etched in my mind and is something I can't forget.
When I'm done, one irrational word comes to mind. Run. Not away from this man, after this man. It's been about seven months since my sister disappeared and to finally catch a break feels invigorating. I pick up the pace and kick up dirt and rocks in my haste. Even though my feet are throbbing and my stomach is aching, I run faster. I have to find him, no matter how dangerous this man appears to be.
As the sun begins to set, I have a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Is someone following me? I look around and see nothing out of the ordinary, except for the bright red glow blending in with the sunset. I stop dead in my tracks. Are those brake lights? Is it him? There's blue glinting off the glass windows of one of the abandoned buildings to my right. I take a deep breath and glance down at my hands. They're empty. I have nothing to defend myself with and he's waiting for me. To kill me. The blue glint is getting brighter and moving towards me. My courage dwindles and I make a last minute decision to retreat and crawl through the broken glass of this busted, abandoned building. I need to come up with a better plan tomorrow. I decided to crash here anyways when my shed was invaded by this freak.
The squealing of tires confirms he is leaving. He'll be back. I am counting on that. I turn on my heels and search for a comfortable place to sleep. The room I'm in is musty and dark, with a faint smell of plastic, moth balls and mold. This Arizona ghost town has been dead for over 40 years and it shows through the peace signs and colorful paisley wall decor. There are empty shelves and creepy white plastic mannequins strewn about. It had to have been some kind of department store or clothing store. This space is huge, perfect for me to live in for the time being.
There's a pile of old blankets in the corner that someone probably slept on in the past. I could care less. I smell and I'm dirty, so the blankets and I will be great friends. I crash and close my eyes, drifting off into a deep sleep.
I wake up to the sound of movement at the other end of the room. I let out a little scream and and scramble to hide behind one of the shelves. I'm not alone and I don't want to find out who is in here with me. My heart is beating so fast. Shit! Why did I have to let my guard down? An old pop can skitters to my left. Whoever or whatever is in here with me is getting closer. Maybe it's him. God, I hope not. The loud clicking on the floor tells me it's something else...a rat? The clicking grows louder and then stops. I peer around the shelf to find the source of the noise. I smile and get down on my knees to meet my new roommate. It's a dog.