6 months earlier...
Myra
I awoke with a jolt, my heart racing as I struggled to focus through hazy eyes. My first instinct was to grab my phone, desperate to know the day and time. The screen displayed 6:11 AM, and I sighed heavily. Saturday mornings always hit me like a freight train. My body and brain seemed to conspire against me, making it a daily battle to emerge from the depths of slumber.
As I forced myself to rise and greet the day, I couldn't help but steal a moment to admire the breathtaking sunrise from the window of my new Miami apartment. The excitement of being in this vibrant city still coursed through me, a stark contrast to where I had been just a year ago. But then, the remnants of a dream began to claw at my consciousness—a dream of wandering through an unfamiliar city. I shook off the haunting memory and focused on the day ahead, my first weekend in this new chapter of my life.
My apartment, a cozy studio with cream-covered walls, opened into a spacious living room adorned with a 65-inch TV and a virtual fireplace. Beyond that, a modern black and white marble-themed kitchen beckoned. My morning routine beckoned, and I moved into the bathroom.
Stepping into my walk-in closet, I embarked on the daily ritual of selecting my outfit. Today's agenda included a trip to Target for essential household items, so I opted for comfortable grey sweatpants and a white tee. I grabbed my black side bag and Coach purse, then slipped into white Crocs. My phone rested on the bedside table, and I scooped it up before heading out.
Passing by the kitchen on my way to the front door, I realized I hadn't eaten breakfast. "Starbucks it is," I thought, grabbing my car keys from their hook.
Waiting by the elevator, I heard a shout, "Hold that door, please!" Without a second thought, I extended my arm to stop the doors from closing. A beautiful olive-skinned girl with light brown eyes and long brown hair entered, thanking me graciously. "No problem," I replied, diverting my attention to my phone to jot down a shopping list.
She introduced herself as Camila, extending a well-manicured hand toward me. I shook her hand and returned her friendly smile. "Myra, nice to meet you."
"Are you new here?" she asked with a gleam in her eye.
"Yeah, I just moved in yesterday," I replied.
"Oh my god! So did I—well, the day before. This is so nice. Would you like to have coffee with me?" Camila's excitement was contagious, making it impossible to refuse her invitation.
I explained that I had a shopping date planned but agreed to exchange numbers for future meetups. We parted ways as the elevator reached the garage floor. I made my way to my bright blue 2018 Honda Civic, unlocked it, and entered the vehicle.
I drove for about 20 minutes until I reached my destination—Target. Inside, the store buzzed with weekend shoppers. I pulled out my phone, ready to tackle my shopping list aisle by aisle. As I moved from one section to another, an unsettling feeling crept over me. It felt as if someone were watching. I scanned my surroundings but found nothing amiss, so I shrugged it off and continued.
Finally, I ticked off every item on my list, but I decided to visit the hair supplies aisle. That's when the eerie sensation returned. I glanced around but still found nothing unusual. Dismissing it, I headed to the cashier, paid for my purchases, and left the store.
Back at my car, a strange feeling of being watched washed over me once more. Scanning the parking lot, I spotted a black Tacoma. It wasn't the vehicle that stood out, but the peculiar man inside, staring at me. Our eyes met, and he gave a small smile and wave. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as I returned the wave. "Weirdo," I muttered to myself as I placed the final shopping bag in my trunk and pushed the cart aside.
I started the car and set my GPS for home. Turning on my stereo, I lost myself in the music, singing along to Burna Boy's "Memories." But then, my stomach growled, and I realized I hadn't eaten. I pulled into a Chick-fil-A drive-thru, though my blaring music drew unwanted attention from fellow drivers. I lowered the volume as I reached the window and ordered my meal.
Once I had my food, I resumed my journey home. After several trips from the garage to my apartment, I finally settled at the kitchen island with my Chick-fil-A, laptop, and email notifications. I couldn't help but wonder why, amid the mundane tasks of settling into my new life, something felt off.
As I scrolled through my emails, my ears rang suddenly. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it held a message. "What's the message?" I asked aloud, scanning my empty apartment. Strange occurrences had become a regular part of my life since my vacation to Bermuda. Vivid dreams, unexplained sensations, and an ever-present feeling of being watched—it all gnawed at me.
With no answer forthcoming, I returned to my meal and set my class schedule. My inbox flashed a notification urging me to sign up for the FIU Geology program, but I dismissed it. Between freelance business consulting and my medical studies, studying rocks didn't fit into my plans.
Around 5:38 PM, hunger struck again, and I decided it was time for dinner. I began preparing a meal, glancing at the Target bag still on the floor. As I worked, I couldn't shake the feeling of impending loneliness, as if it were the cause of the strange visions and dreams that haunted me.
The day drifted into evening, and I settled in front of my laptop, lost in thought. My phone rang, and I saw my mom's name on the screen. We had the usual mother-daughter catch-up until she asked if I had made any new friends. Camila came to mind, but my mother's barrage of questions made me realize I knew very little about her. I finally made my escape by pleading hunger.
In the kitchen, I whipped up a meal of baked chicken breast, white rice, and a lettuce salad. Gazing at my handiwork—my meticulously arranged apartment—I felt a sense of accomplishment. After a quick shower, I stood in front of the fog-covered mirror, admiring my reflection. Suddenly, I was running through a dense forest, and I gasped, my fingers gripping the counter for dear life. It was as if reality and dreams were merging, and I couldn't decipher the boundary.
Shaken but determined, I dressed in my pajamas and resolved to meet Camila the next day. Perhaps companionship would put an end to the strange occurrences that seemed to follow me.