Destroya

Numbers that decided bits and pieces of people’s futures spun around my head, practically making tweeting noises. I leaned over the wheel, taking in the pine scent that hung above my dreary head quite carelessly. The sonic blaring of car horns and the shouts of futile road rage assaulted the peace, traffic was getting worse. I had never thought that traffic being worse was possible in the star struck city of Los Angeles. Sometimes I thought it meant Lost Angels, because people were so lonely and they were falling to pieces here, depression sank through the core of the city. But then there were the leeches, the movie stars, the marketing, public relations. I sighed in digression at the city returning to its normal function. One would think that seeing the horror of 2019, people would change. I guess people never change.

The roll of tires met my ears, and the final block of my arduous and lengthy trip ‘home’ was approaching. As the flickering lights of the apartment sign came closer, a sigh of giving up met my lips. I gave into the city’s wont, just as I pulled into the drive.

The parking spot next to mine was filled with the car I recognized as my mysterious neighbor’s. My memory was strangely triggered.

“Do you know what you did last night?” The voice that had plagued me during work reminded me of an old Hollywood star’s sultry tone. It was as unsettling as flan was to me.

I sighed as the out of order sign on the elevator creaked, falling sideways. I tripped my way up the stairs as fatigue seeped over my bones. A cascade of stern will came over me. I needed to eat, and even though I did not inherit the lovely cooking talents of my mother, adequate food was something I needed quite severely. I had skipped lunch.

After I finally unlocked the three locks I had placed on my door, I threw my keys on the end table, which I had picked up at a garage sale some years before, and had consistently kept it in the attic until I needed to bring furnishings with me.

The refrigerator, which had come with the apartment itself, had sandwich construction materials. I made two; I began to softly hum the sandwich song that my mother always sang when we made sandwiches. Believe me, singing was not in our genetics, but it was always fun and carefree.

Home-sickness wracked my digestive tract, and I put the other sandwich into the fridge, not being able to stomach it.

My need to sleep was quite overwhelming. I didn’t have the heart to bother with a shower; it seemed like a pointless endeavor.

Changing quickly, my eyelids fluttered quite closed as my russet hair hit the pillow.

I yawned in perception of the night. Of course, it wasn’t me yawning, but why should it matter? I vaguely began to wonder how long the girl’s frail body would last until I ripped it open with the seams of magic sewn in a mortal body.

Fumbling my way to one of her chairs, I sat down, thinking of what I was going to do in this lightweight corporeal form this night.

I could always give the human some rest so that the body lasted longer…

But that would be boring. Too simple.

I walked out of the apartment, my feet scratching the surface of the carpet, as I barely put any weight on them.

I made it to the edge of the girl’s thin wooden apartment door; I opened it with a brusque tug of the handle, barely remembering to snatch the jangling keys from the end table. But someone was already out there.

I fell back into the sub-consciousness, letting the girl regain control of her body.

“Tori?” I looked down at my hands at the utterance of my name, Gerard was standing outside his room, chain smoking. “What’re you doing up?”

“I don’t even know… I didn’t even get up, I guess I heard a noise and came out to check it out, but why wouldn’t I bring a bat or something…” I trailed off and didn’t bother disguising my accent, I couldn’t help it. I was too sleepy. Gerard nodded gruffly in response; clearly he heard the southern tone, and my stupidity.

“I guess you’re a sleep walker then.” I blushed, he crushed a cigarette underneath his bare foot; I winced.

“I’ve never been before, but I guess so, now.”

“You break into my place on accident; I’ll likely kill you, before I know it’s you. I’d put an inside lock on your door so that you don’t hurt yourself.” I vowed to call the locksmith again; I certainly did not want to be hurt in any way shape or form.

“Well, sorry I disturbed you. Goodnight.” I awkwardly excused myself from the conversation.

“I have a question.” The man tilted his head to face my retreating form. I turned around abruptly, willing to answer his question.

“How was it, away from the war, away from the world and its fear?” He asked solemnly, staring down at the still lit cigarette in his hand.

“It was like life went on. It’s sort of more like when there was a conflict with Iraq, way back when we were little, and you’d hear reports of who died, who blew up, but you were never a part of it, it wasn’t on your soil. And I suppose a lot of people on our coast feel bad now because… we didn’t even try to defend ourselves. We just let you guys handle it. Sure, there were recruits and even my friend Jeff went off to fight. He said that he couldn’t stand by and be attacked; he couldn’t let his brothers die around him and remain oblivious. I never understood that it was our fight too, until I met you and Frank, that is.” Gerard nodded, understanding.

“I grew up on your side of the country, I even told my parents not to encourage anyone to come out here. I guess I would have understood lying down and letting people do what they want, before I joined up, before I lost everything that was breakable.” I bit my lip, guilt flooding my eyes and mind, why couldn’t I have been brave? Why didn’t I understand death, even when Jeff came back in a casket? Why didn’t I try and save lives too? Did compliance make me a bad person? I walked back into my apartment, closing the door.

Gerard didn’t say a thing. I didn’t know if he wanted me to feel bad or if he wanted me to question myself, but whatever his motives were, I’m sure he accomplished what he wanted. I guess being a hero wasn’t enough for him, he wanted to make everyone around him not a hero.

I retreated into sleep, where my dreams were hollow and shallow as blown glass.

Waking up with a frown across my eyes, I decided to call my mother.

Numbly entering the numbers, my hands shook.

“Hello, darling, so glad you called.” The bright voice of my mother vibrated from across the country.

“I’m glad I called too, how are…” I was cut off.

“Sorry, honey, I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you later.” The dial tone rang into my ear drum rudely.

“Bye.” I said to the open air, getting myself ready for work, disappointment halting my fragile steps and shuffles.

Here I was, stuck in the eternal frenzy of traffic. My head hung dully over the dash. A scream rang through the air, and I saw a white figure fall through the ranks of cars, running past the car in front of me. It stopped abruptly in front of my own vehicle. My spine tried to curl and hide in my stomach, and hairs pricked the back of my neck, becoming stiff. It sniffed around my car suspiciously, and bounded away towards where I had come from, the apartment complex.

What could it be after there?