By the time I’m almost finished organising the books my arms feel like they’re about to fall off. Why do we even have libraries anymore? Who bothers with pleasantries such as reading in these times?
I pick up the last book in the pile, it’s titled “Cats: A Guide Our Furry Friends”. What on earth is a cat? I open the and read the first page, it says they’re small, furry animals that make great pets. This must’ve been written before all animals went extinct.
The cat sounds interesting so I continue reading. Apparently, they evolved from big cats such as lions and tigers (whatever those are).
Before I know it I’ve read the entire book and must know everything there is to know about cats. I wish they were still around.
I close the book and put it in its correct place of the shelf. I stare at the spine for a while.
“Poor cat.” I say aloud.
I hear a noise from behind me, like nothing I’ve ever heard before. I spin around and there, on the ground, is a cat. It makes it’s weird noise again.
“Meow!”
From the journal of Detective Wilson.
_He dead. _ __ _The great wizard is dead. _ __ _And I have to investigate his murder. _ __ _While the entire kingdom is in mourning and looking for the next great wizard, I will be here, in my office trying to catch someone powerful enough to kill the great wizard. _ __ Would they even hesitate to kill me? __ _I can’t be thinking about this right now. I need to find justice for the great wizard. I need to find his killer. _ __ The body was found outside his house, stabbed in the back four times. His spine was broken before he was stabbed, which is probably how the killer managed to stab him. But how did they break his spine? __ _His lungs were punctured and it would have taken a few minutes for him to die, he must have been in absolute agony. _ __ The autopsy report just came in, they found traces of… poison in his system. Why would someone stab him if they’d already poisoned him? __ Why would someone kill the great wizard at all? __ _There are so many questions in this case and I’ll probably never find the answers, but if I do, I’ll be in the same place as the great wizard. _
“Alright, Ben. That’s enough TV for tonight, it’s time for bed.” I say to my eight year old son.
“No!” He replies stubbornly.
“If you go up now I’ll read to you for a bit.”
“But I don’t want to go to bed!” He yells, I’m about to tell him off for speaking like that but what he says next makes the words catch in my throat. “The man with no eyes is waiting for me in the closet!”
“The man with no eyes?” I ask.
“Yeah, he lives in the closet and he comes out at night!” Ben says, he’s probably just making stuff up so he doesn’t have to go to bed.
“There’s no one in your closet, honey.” I says gently but he just looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Yes there is!” He yells perking at me from over the back of the couch. “I’m not lying! And I won’t go to bed until he’s gone!”
He folds his arms and pouts. I take the remote from him and turn the TV off.
“There’s no one in the closet.” I take his hand and lead him up the stairs. “I’ll show you.”
He tries to run back down the stairs but I put my arm out in front of him.
“You need to go to bed, you have school tomorrow.” I say sternly.
We go to his room and I put my hand on the closet door. Ben looks terrified and he back up against the wall, as far from the closet as he can get.
“Mummy,” He whines, “please don’t.”
“There’s no one in here.” I insist pulling open the door.
Ben jumps back, glancing around as if looking for a way out and for a moment I actually think there’s something in the closet but when I look it’s empty.
“See?” I say, “Nothing here.”
“Are you blind, he’s right there!” Ben screams. “He’s wearing a black cloak and he has really pale skin and where his eyes should be there just Xs! How can you not se him?”
He looks so scared, I’m finding it hard to believe he’s making this up. I look into the closet to see if I can see something that he’s mistaking as a man with no eyes. Ben keeps describing the man, over and over in excruciating detail. As he describes I have to admit I start to see… something that matches what he says. I rub my eyes but the image just gets stronger.
It’s a man.
In the closet.
With no eyes.
Smiling at me.
The waters are as calm as I’ve ever seen them, smooth and flat as an ice rink. My boat drifts through the lake with only the slightest stroke of the oars, not leaving a ripple behind.
I move out into the centre of the lake, where all the big fish are, but once I’m out there a fog sets in. I can’t even see the bank. There’s a loud growl from above and I look up to see storm clouds, flashing with lighting. Thunder rumbles so loud I have to cover my ears, but the water remains calm.
I hear a laugh behind me, it’s more of a cackle than a laugh. I spin to see a cloaked figure standing on the water, on top the water’s surface as though it’s land. The figure laughs again, it echoes off the water and around the lake making it sound like there are hundreds of people cackling like hyenas, I don’t so much hear it as feel it bouncing around in my brain.
The figure’s facing away from me but I get the feeling he knows I’m here. He tilts his head up to the sky and mutters something I can’t hear. I watch in slow motion as tow bolts of lightning strike the waters surface at the exact same time, the figure raises his arms and laughs louder. The lightning races through the water in all directions from the points where it struck the water’s surface.
The figure spins around like a little kid having a good time and I get a good look at his face.
His eyes are pure white and black veins crawling across his face like the lightning in the water are a stark contrast against his unnaturally pale face. His mouth is open to wide as he laughs his creepy laugh.
Then, with his mouth not moving from that huge, demonic smile, he screams in a overly happy and high pitched voice:
“Die!”
He throws his hands out towards me and the electricity in the water speeds in the same direction. It crashes into my boat, over turning it and sending me flying into the water.
Shoes.
People care a lot about shoes, too much I think. Some people pay hundreds of pounds for a pair of shoes while others will only pay twenty.
You see, you can tell a lot about a person from what they wear, but thier shoes will tell you everything you need to know.
Say their shoes are bright pink and flash when they walk; this pair probably belongs to a little girl.
Say their shoes are flip flops; this person doesn’t get cold easily.
A pair of trainers splattered with mud; they’ve probably just been for a run.
Shiny party shoes with heels so high you twist your ankle just looking at them; they’re ready for a fancy night out and have excellent ballence.
Shoes.
They tell you every thing you need to know.
I woke up on the ground, rough tarmac kissing my cheek. I pushed myself up and looked around, I was lying in the middle of the street in front of my house.
How did I get here?
I tried to remember what had happened but everything was fuzzy. The last clear memory I had was walking to Emma’s house which was… last week?
What happened since then?
I stood and started walking towards the house, I was unsteady on my feet and barely got two steps before I fell against my brother Matthew’s car. I looked down at myself, I was bloody and bruised and burned and my clothes weren’t in a much better state.
A memory came back to me then, I was somewhere dark, Emma was standing next to me. There was this woman, dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes but skin so pale it couldn’t have been healthy.
“You best stop now or you will regret it!” The woman had said, actually she had more hissed it than said it.
Stop what?
I tried to remember who she was or what we were doing there but I can’t, I just know something bad was going on.
The woman had said something else. She had said: “I will make your whole world fall apart if you keep going!” And Emma had said she would do it either way.
What were me and Emma up to?
I needed to get inside, maybe Matthew knows what we were doing. I stepped up to the door but it was locked and I didn’t have my keys. I knocked and another mole moth came back to me.
Me and Emma were in that dark place again, we were kneeling on the floor with a bag in between us. Emma was laying out stones from the bag in a pattern.
“I told you to keep out of this!” The woman’s voice came from the shadows. Me and Emma jumped yo our feet.
“We know exactly what you’re doing, you witch!” I yelled.
“And we’re going to stop you!” Emma said.
“With your little ritual?” She laughed. “You cannot stop me! I warned you what would happen if you kept going, and now you must pay!”
She started reciting something in a foreign language and her eyes glowed amber. Me and Emma collapsed to the floor, then everything went black.
Next thing I knew I was on the street.
_Oh my god. _I thought. A real witch!
The door opened and there was Matthew, I was so relieved to see him I didn’t even acknowledge the blank look on his face.
“Matthew, thank god you’re alright!” I said.
“Who are you?” - those were the hardest three words to hear in my life. This is my punishment for not stopping, he doesn’t even know me!
This is how my whole world fell apart.
Ron looked around the park, it was his daily routine: find some poor innocent person, go right up behind them and whisper in their ear. They get the the fright of their life when they hear the voice with no owner. Ron does think it’s kind of cruel but it’s not like he can have a conversation with anyone, they’d get to caught up on the fact they can’t see him.
There. On the bench, the lonely man with the sunglasses. The perfect victim.
Ron walked up to him, careful not to step on any of the freshly fallen leaves. People can’t see him but they can still hear him. He sat down on the bench, the man’s expression changed then. He must’ve sensed someone sat down next to him.
Ron leaned over and put a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“What’s your name, friend?” Ron said.
The man turned his head slightly.
“Gary.” He said.
Ron muttered his own name. Why did this man reply, he was meant to be confused at least? That’s when he noticed the cane. _He’s blind. _He realised. Of course, why else would he be wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day.
They started talking, they talked for ages and by the end of it Ron thought he must know everything there is to know about Gary.
“Dad?” Someone called and Gary stopped talking. A young woman came up to Gary and took his hand. “Come on, Dad. We have to go.”
“Go where, sweetie?” He asked.
“The restaurant, we’re going for lunch, remember?” She said smiling.
“Ah, yes. How could I forget?” Gary said. “I was just talking to Ron, here.”
“Who?” She asked and Gary looked confused.
“Ron. The man sitting right next to me.”
“There’s no one sitting next to you, Dad.”
It was his time to go now, Ron leaned over and whispered in Gary’s ear.
“See you later, Gary.” Ron got up and walked away from the bench, leaving the blind man to go to lunch with his daughter.
I bark as loud as I can hoping someone will notice me.
“Let me in! Please, I’ll be a good dog!” I bark.
“Rocco, shut up!” Dad yells.
“No! Let me in!”
I keep barking and scratching at the door but no one opens it. I keep going refusing to give up until I hear a voice behind me.
“What are you doing?” Whiskers meows.
“Trying to get them to let me back in the house!” I whine.
“They don’t understand you, stupid.” She hisses.
“But they know I’m barking.”
“Dogs!” She mutters. “You could try not barking, that’s probably what they want.”
I glare at her.
“Whatever,” She yawns (why are cats always so tired!?), “just do it more quietly. I’m trying to hunt and you’re scaring all the mice away!”
“If they would just let me back in the house then we wouldn’t have this problem!” I growl.
Whiskers turns and, with a flick of her tail, saunters of. She jumps onto the fence and into next door’s garden - I wish I could jump that high.
I turn back to the door, take a deep breath and start barking again.
I lie awake listening to the steady breathing of my sleeping friends. I’ve been lying awake for hours but I just can’t fall asleep.
I roll over onto my side, Anne, my best friend, lies there, sleeping peacefully. As I look at her calm face a small smile creeps onto my face. Ever since the… incident, she’s had nightmares every night, it’s a relief to see her finally getting a restful sleep.
Anne’s expression changes then, it goes from calm to scared. She jerks sharply, rolling over and then turning back to me. Tears begin to spill from her eyes as moans and groans in her sleep.
“No…” She whispers, “No, no! Please no! Stop! Please!”
Nightmares again. It was foolish of me to think that she could actually have a good night’s sleep.
I look at her, wishing I could take those nightmares away from her. My head starts hurting, just a little at first but getting stronger.
I bring a hand up to my head as my vision begins to blur. Anne fades from my view and is replaced with another image. A house. Anne’s house.
The rain pours down heavily yet still many people crowd the streets. My eyes are puffy from crying but something else is different. I look down at my hands but… they’re not my hands! These hands are smaller and a good few shades darker than my own. I look up and down the street and I see it then. It’s the night _it _happened, exactly as I remember, except I’m seeing it from Anne’s perspective.
All eyes land on me and I run inside. I start up the stairs but stop suddenly as a voice calls out.
“Anne!” I turn to see Anne’s father at the bottom of the stairs. “Anne, what have you done!?”
He’s furious, and when he moves towards me I stumble back. He grabs me by the neck and throws me down the stairs. I try to push myself up, try to run but he’s to fast. He grabs me again and presses me against the wall. He hits me, hard. He hits me again, harder.
“You stupid, stupid girl!” He looks like he’s about to explode.
He drops me to the floor and I kneel there, coughing and spluttering. “Pathetic.”
He kicks me and I fall onto my side. He motions to kick me again.
“Stop!” I scream.
Light explodes around me and Anne’s father screams in agony. The house crumbles down around me and a thought rings loud in my ear.
I am one of them. I am a freak. A monster.
The headache returns and everything fades. I’m back in the tent, my friend lying next to me. I look at Anne, her eyes are open now.
“Nightmares?” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. She nods before rolling over.
That was Anne’s nightmare, exactly how she described it. I was in Anne’s nightmare.
I’m one of them too.
Everyone calls it a city but it doesn’t look much like one. Only a few buildings reach above sea level, the rest were completely flooded years ago.
After the initial shock and grief passed from the devestating flood people got to work rebuilding. They replaced windows with doors, cars with boats and kept building skywards in case of another flood. The stench of petrol and diesel became the smell of saltwater as all the cars - and drivers in them - were drowned. The tall and intimidating buildings suddenly became sad and scarcely scraping the water’s surface.
Some say this is the wake up call that we need but most won’t own up to ever contributing to this in anyway. This city used to have a sense of community, everyone looking out for each other, but now everyone is full of hatred and resentment - only looking out for themselves. Many people thought about moving but where to, most cities are either in the same sorry state as ours or have been evacuated because of the extreme heat.
Everyone is trying to run from this because we didn’t face it when we should have.
