1893 words (7 minute read)

Never Alone

“It was locked, I made sure.” 

After the ordeal she had called the police, and Jack— convinced someone had been inside her apartment. Jack had shown up before the police and she repeated the story over and over to him. 

“Well— it’s a secure latch,” Jack checked the locks again for the third time, “I don’t see how it could unlock itself.”

“It didn’t unlock itself, I’ve already told you someone went tearing out of this apartment. They broke that picture of us,” She led Jack by his hand to her room, “There, I still have to pick up the glass—” She inhaled sharply. The picture sat unbroken on her night stand.

“What glass?” He asked in confusion. 

“Wait a minute— That picture was on the ground, broken— I cut my finger,” She showed Jack her cut, still crusted with blood. She had forgotten to clean it and put a Band-Aid on it.

He grimaced at her, blood always made him squeamish. The only reason he had chosen a medical degree was the fact chicks always dug doctors—he looked back at the nightstand—“I didn’t know you kept that one by your bedside, it’s a good picture of us.”

It had been shot during the summer on their trip to Orcas Island. They had taken a ferry across the Puget Sound to visit Sam’s aunt who had acquired a house there during her divorce from husband number three. She had looked good that day, with the wind blowing her black hair around her as she smiled and laughed with him. She had great dimples on her chin and cheeks that he would annoyingly poke at every time they popped out to say hello— she would swat his hand away and cover them up every time in embarrassment. 

“You’re my best friend but that’s beside the point— that picture was broken,”

A knocking came from the open front door, they moved around the corner of the hall to see who it was—finally the police had made it over—two and half hours later.

“Evening ma’am, we received a call about a burglary.” Two officers stood in the door, examining the frame.

“No, not a burglary, someone was in here with me earlier.”

“Can you describe what they looked like?” The taller of the two officers took out a small notepad and a pen from his front shirt pocket— placing the tip of the pen to the paper, he stopped and looked up at her.

“I didn’t actually see anyone, I only heard them.” She said.

“Took you guys long enough to get here.” Jack interrupted.

The officer examining the door frame spoke up, “Well, when this is the third call this week from the same address with nothing turning up—we tend to not make it a priority.”

“Third call this week?” Sam asked, looking back at Jack.

“Ma’am, you understand the severity of calling 911 without an actual emergency, don’t you?” The first officer clicked his pen— putting it back into his pocket as he flipped his paper pad shut.

“This the first time I’ve ever called you!” Sam protested, “There must be some mistake here.”

“There is no sign of forced entry,” The second officer spoke to his partner— turning back to Sam, “Miss, if nothing was stolen and you have no description of the intruder— there isn’t anything else we can do— make sure to keep your doors locked.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sam shook her head as the two officers left, “What do you mean three calls?” She shouted after them— they ignored her as they turned the corner, down the hall to the stairs.

She walked back into her apartment and slammed the door behind her.

Jack sat silently on the couch, looking up at her.

“I never called them until today.” She said quietly, as if she was trying to convince herself. 

Jack spoke up, “Hey, you haven’t slept properly in awhile, I mean look at you, you’re exhausted and your mind is playing tricks on you.”

She was getting annoyed, “I’m telling you, someone was in here! I mean how did I get this cut?” She thrusted her finger at him.

“I don’t know, you probably cut it during your exams and didn’t notice. It’s not very deep, looks like a paper cut,”

Sam let her hand fall to her side. She loved Jack dearly, but his always have a answer for everything got on her nerves.

Jack saw her look of defeat, “Hey relax, I’ll chill here and watch some television, you go lie down and get some rest. I’ll see myself out later after you fall asleep.”

She did need to sleep, “You can’t, I didn’t pay the electric bill.”

“Seriously— what’s wrong with you?” He asked, throwing his hands up, “Do you need money or something?”

“No— it just slipped my mind, that’s all.”

“That seems to be happening to you a lot lately.”

“Yes— thanks for that!” She argued.

“Go lay down, I guess I’ll read a book or something.”

Taking a deep breath, she squeezed his shoulders as she passed by him towards the hallway, she kissed him lightly on the top of his head before retiring to her room.

Undressing her lower half only, she laid her pants on her dresser. It was comforting to her knowing Jack was in the other room, even if he thought she was mad as the Hatter.

She pulled down her flower quilt and climbed into bed, the feeling of her cotton sheets on her bare legs felt wonderful, as she fluffed her pillow, and sank into it. That evening’s events rolled around in her mind. She had no memory of calling the police that week, but the officers seemed convinced she had, they hadn’t even bothered to enter the apartment all the way— as if they already knew what they would find— nothing. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind. After a short time she fell into a restless sleep and soon she wanted nothing more than to open her eyes...

****

She stood in front of a large, black-stone fireplace, it burned violently yet she felt a chill run past her.

Her feet remained bare, as she felt the soft, fur rug under them— she tried to wiggle her toes but she couldn’t— she remained frozen, either from fear or force, she wasn’t sure.

She could move her eyes however, as she looked on the wall behind the fireplace. Black, shining marble stood pristine, as the light of the flames danced around and reflected off of it. She couldn’t see what was behind her but she felt as if there was a presence with her, stalking her from somewhere in the darkness that the light of the fire couldn’t penetrate. 

“Who’s there?” She whispered.

Nothing—

She remained silent, feeling her body shake as a bead of sweat pooled at her brow and slid down her temple. Again, a chill flew past her from behind, as she felt her hair move with it, before it settled back down against her back.

“Answer me,” She begged, trying desperately to move, “Please—”

The sound first came to her as a hiss in her ear— “Zagan.” It said.

She wanted to scream, but she was still frozen in silence as the hissing became louder— thundering in her head.

Zagan,” It repeated.

A tingle began to move up her arm, starting at the back of her hand, moving slowly past her elbow and continuing up towards her neck. From the corner of her eye, she could see a giant, hairy leg— and then another and another as they dug into her skin. 

The hissing continued to repeat “Zagan.” As she tried with all her might to move, to swat at the giant spider that sat on her shoulder, it’s sharp feet digging into her flesh.

She snapped her eyes shut as hard as she could, “Wake up!” She screamed in her head— “Wake up!”

Zagan—”

****

Her eyes shot open, the fireplace had vanished and all around her was dark. She brought her hand up to her shoulder, feeling for the spider— she could move now.

She sat up from her pillow and panned her eyes around the room again—it was her room. She clutched at her damp t-shirt, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. Slowly, she pulled the hot covers off of her—the air in the room moved over her skin, relieving her of the uncomfortable feeling of heat and stagnant moisture.

She sat on the edge of her bed, slumping her head in her hand, wiping at the sweat and hair on her forehead. Her mouth was dry—her tongue caught in her throat as she tried to call for Jack to see if he was still in the living room, “Jack?” The name left her lips in a hoarse whisper.

She stood from the bed and shuffled towards her closed door, opening it and peeking her head out into the dark hallway towards the living room, “Jack?” She called again, this time a little clearer.

Silence—

Looking back over her shoulder she looked at the clock, it readout nothing—

Leaving her open doorway she wondered down the hall, holding on to the wall as it guided her safely towards the living room. Feeling around, her hand finally touched on the light switch, she clicked it on, only to remember she had no electricity in her flat.

“Jack?”

“Huh?”

She could see his silhouette sit up from the couch, “I had a bad dream.”

“Where are you? I can’t see you—turn on the light.” He said.

“I can’t,” She replied, rolling her eyes as she past him towards the kitchen, “I need some water.”

“I forgot—Did you pay your water bill?” He asked, sarcastically.

“Shut-up.”

Opening the glasses cupboard in the kitchen she pulled out a cup and walked over to the sink. The cold handle squeaked as she turned it—the strong smell of Seattle fluoride burned through her nose as she filled her glass.

Taking a sip, and forcing it down her sore throat she turned around to find Jack leaning in the doorway—the dim lights from the street lamp outside the window illuminating his tired features.

“I should head home, you think you’ll be alright?” He asked, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“No. I won’t.”

“Well, shit. I’m uncomfortable on that couch and need my bed.” He said.

“Come in there with me then, I don’t want to be alone right now.” She gestured towards her room, and his eyes moved towards the hallway.

“You know, usually I’d say hell no—but I’m just too damned tired right now, let’s go.” He threw his arm lazily around her shoulder and lead her out of the kitchen as she took another sip of the disgusting tap water.


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