AllFreeNovel
Share Us
SUMMER
My feet ache as I walk up the concrete steps to my apartment. It’s only one flight, but the distance makes me think of mountain climbers on the last leg of Everest. The distance they have to traverse between the final camp and the peak isn’t too far, but the weariness of spending a month on a mountain, breathing half the oxygen they’re used to, limbs stiffening with the frigid temperatures, makes the ascent a battle.
I had a long day at work.
There are so many negative things that can happen when serving the public, and I today I hit the shit lottery. Sometime during the night, a vandal with a bottle of spray paint decided to draw a giant dick on the beautiful redbrick side of the library. It’s going to take some intense scrubbing to get it off. Then a woman decided to scream at me about a twenty-cent late fee until we had to ask security to escort her out. As if the new wall art was inspiration, I had two porn watchers today on public computers. A kid threw up during story time and managed to splatter an entire bottom shelf of books. And, because the universe seemed to want to put a crappy period on my gross day, my car refused to start, so I had to ride the bus home.
Normally, Sundays are great days. And I’m too tired to pretend that one of the main reasons I look forward to them is because Cole Allemand comes to the library on Sunday. He is a stoic, bright light at the end of the week as I let myself daydream about my crush.
But that was just another way this day let me down. Weeks ago, I agreed to work earlier hours today to cover a coworker’s vacation. Which meant my eight hours were over long before Cole made his normal appearance. If today had been a fantastic workday, I may have found some excuses to stay later. But exhaustion ate away at me.
And what’s more, I already know that tomorrow will be worse.
Finally, I summit my peak, reaching the landing, my apartment door in sight. Even though I wasn’t caught in the puke splash zone, helping our children’s librarian dispose of the contaminated books has me certain that I reek.
“Shower. Food. Bed,” I chant to myself, a mantra driving me forward.
I just want to be clean and to curl up in a pile of pillows and spend the next few hours re-reading my favorite serialized fantasy saga in preparation for this week’s new chapter.
But any spark of happiness that plan ignites is promptly extinguished when I unlock and open my door.
Sitting on the colorful rug in my entryway is an orange envelope. The familiar sight would be enough to twist my stomach with sickness, but what is lying next to it has me thinking I’m not done with puke for the day. Only this time, I’m the one on the verge of blowing chunks.
There’s a little bird. Some gray creature with hints of green shimmering in its feathers.
I have time to examine it because it’s dead.
The stiff body sickens me. I can’t help thinking how beautiful the tiny animal would have been in life, flitting around and singing beautiful notes to the morning sun.
That’s all been snuffed out.
Letting my bag slide to the floor, I step over the items, refusing to touch them. Not until I have gloves on. Once my hands are covered, I pick up the bird, blinking away tears as I hold it. For a moment, I waver over what to do, silently hoping my touch will somehow awaken it, allowing me to open my hands and let the bird fly away.
Instead, I just solidify the knowledge its life is gone. Outside, I stumble down the stairs, circling my building until I spot a flowering bush. I lay the bird underneath the branches in a semblance of a burial.
Back in my apartment, I lock my front door behind me, glaring at the mail slot that allowed the twisted gifts into my home. Tomorrow I’m buying a piece of wood, a hammer and some nails. Not that I expect closing off the opening will do much good.
With shanking fingers, I open the envelope.
Any hope I had that the poor animal somehow found its way in through my mail slot and died of natural causes is lost when I carefully unfold the newspaper article. The headline announces that a local family died from carbon monoxide poisoning.
The heavy black writing overtop of the printed words that has me choking on bile.
You’re delicate like a bird.
Fear, thick as sludge, coats my insides. No shower will clean the dirtiness of this message from me.
With the note pinched in my gloved fingers, I shuffle across my small apartment, stepping into my bathroom. Under the sink, I extend my hand into a dark corner behind bottles of bleach and toilet cleaner until I feel the corner of a box I wish would disappear.
Instead, I pull the container into the light, lift the lid, and place the article on top of a pile of others just like it.
Chapter Fourteen
SUMMER
When I wake up, before my brain even starts functioning, the misery of the day settles on me like a sticky film. It’s heavy, but not crushing. Not anymore. The feeling clings to me enough to make all my limbs sluggish, but not immobile.
This is not from the mess at work yesterday or even because of the creepy note. This day inspires a depression all its own.
