Ricky and I take the elevator down to the first floor and make our way into the lobby. As we walk outside, an odd sensation ripples through me. Like something has been awoken within me. Still a little weak, I sit on a bench in front of the club as Ricky runs to go get his car.
Unable to shake this new level of uneasiness, I stand up and pace a little.I lean up against the wall, closing my eyes just for a moment. I need to get my shit together. Nothing feels the same anymore, and I can’t put my finger on it.
After a few minutes, the hairs on my neck stand up, and that feeling I’m being watched is prominent.Opening my eyes, I try not to make it obvious as I look around slowly. Just when I feel like it’s all in my head, I see a silhouette lurking on the side of the building.
I’m not sure where the courage comes from, but my patience is running thin, and I’m not a fan of being stalked, especially by someone hiding in the dark. I start to walk in the direction of where I saw the person watching me, but a familiar energy hits me. The same feeling I’d had when seeing the man in the elevator.
Just then, I hear honking. Stopping, I turn around to see Ricky pull up. When I look back in the direction of my admirer, they’re gone. Reluctantly, I turn back and move in the direction of Ricky’s car.
Rolling down the window, Ricky asks, “You good?”
“Yeah, thought I saw…” but I pause, not wanting to have to explain. I shake my head. “Never mind.”
Once back in my apartment, after thanking Ricky for dropping me home, I turn on each light I pass, in the shadows of the dark, Lily’s face seems to haunt me. How would I even explain what is happening to me? I don’t think even Vix would believe me. I mean nightmares, sure, everyone has nightmares. But this was so real, I swear I could reach out and touch her. One minute I was on the dance floor, and the next, it was like some horror movie was playing out in my head. The questions playing on repeat in my mind continue to frustrate me. After putting my phone on the charger, I scroll through Spotify, and set my playlist to play at random.
A shiver runs down my spine, and the coolness of the air in my room reminds me my clothes are still soaked with sweat from the club. After tossing them in to the hamper, I pull a pair of sweats and a tank top out of my dresser and lay them on the bed. Walking into the bathroom, I flip the light switch, only for the bulb to start to flicker.
“Fucking great,” I grumble.
Stepping into the warm shower, I close my eyes and let the water wash away my thoughts of the night, trying to relax my body through the heat that scorches my skin.
Once I’ve finished, and I’m drying my hair, I hear “I put a spell on you” from Marilyn Manson from my Bluetooth speaker. Standing in front of the mirror, I start to get lost in my thoughtswhile staring at myself. So many unanswered questions run through my head.
Is this for real?
Am I having a nervous breakdown?
Is this all a nightmare I can’t wake up from?
I can feel myself starting to spiral out of control, as the bass of drums beat in tune with my heart, and my breaths becoming shallower.
Grasping on to the sink to hold myself steady, I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead. My knees weaken, and my eyes never falter from my reflection in the mirror, as if my own gaze has me hypnotized.
That instant draw I’d felt at the club was pushing me back through again.
I can’t speak.Oh god, not again. I grip harder as if grounding myself to the counter will help, but as the tempo increases and the screams of the music become more intense, I feel myself shifting again. For a brief second, I see my eyes shine with a silver sheen, and my bathroom is no longer my own.
I turn and take a step towards the room in front of me. The walls look worn and battered with holes and peeled-off paint. Broken glass shards from the windows are scattered across the floor. Holes in the ceiling so large you can see the night sky with its blood-red moon. The bed in front of me is slashed and torn, and its springs and padding are on display. Tasting what I can only describe as death in the air leaves me uncomfortable as I realize something.
This is my room.
“What the actual fuck?” I whisper, taking in my surroundings.
Just then, I hear it, the snickering behind me, sends shivers down my spine. I don’t dare look. I barely breathe. This is different than the nightmares—this almost seems real.
“Now, what do we have here, a lost little soul?” he says behind me. A sneer in his voice.
Oh god, I know that voice.
“No,” I say, barely above a whisper in disbelief.
He continues, as if he didn’t to me.
“And here I was thinking you’d need the help of Jonathan to get here, but look at you, making your way to Aetheriem all by yourself. Aren't you full of surprises?”
“Jasper.” I say already knowing the answer.
“In the…flesh”, he says sarcastically.
