I Never Meant to Be so Cliche

I was startled awake by my own breathing. I could barely see anything in the small room. It smelled strange, like a hospital, but it wasn't. The walls reminded me of warehouses, complete rusted steel. An uneasy feeling erupted in my stomach but I ignored it. You can't be paranoid and try and find a way out. It didn't work that way.

I stood up, and my body yelled at me. Ignoring the pain, I ran my hands over the unsteady walls for a light switch, a door, something.

Bandaged. My arm was wrapped in bandages. The feeling of the same wrappings was on my chest. Someone took care of me, and gave me new clothes when I was out. Someone brought me here, but who? I couldn't remember anything after I saw . . . it.

This wasn't real. This was a dream. It had to be. Things like this don't happen. Monsters don't exist. They were people. They were monsters, the real ones. If this wasn't a dream, then I wasn't real. It wouldn't shock me. I don't do normal things. Normal things don't happen in my life. Being real wasn't a priority on my list. My list had one thing on it. There was only one thing that I needed to do. Survive.

My numb fingers stopped when I felt something that wasn't flat on the wall. Gripping the circular object, I opened a door. There was a way out.

My conclusions were proven right when I opened the door to find an actual warehouse. Condemned, I thought. Rust, water drops, molds maybe, those were the things that were on the walls. Age was another common factor that I could tell was in play. Buildings weren't made like this anymore. They weren't safe. They had to build them better now. It wasn't true though. People built the same things the same way since the beginning of time. We just like to pretend that they were improved, safer, newer. They weren't. They just looked new. Buildings now might as well look like this because at least it was honest.

I walked carefully down the see through stairs. They connected to the wall. Up against the side of the building. They would be the last thing you would see, hidden almost. People wouldn't take too much notice to them.

Certain items caught my fuzzy eyes. Furniture. Couches. Tables. Lights. People lived here, or at least stayed here for longer than the casual glance inside. Who want to stay here? People who didn't want to be seen. They wanted to be hidden. That's the only reason I would stay here.

"You're up." Someone said behind me. I jumped, not expecting people to be here. I thought I was alone.

I turned to see an unfamiliar face. The boy was shorter than me, and he had designs and patterns all over his skin. Two piercings on his lips. Black hair on his head. He didn't look like he would hurt me, but I thought that yesterday, too. Was it yesterday? It could have been a life time ago, and I wouldn't know.

He took a step forward, and I took a step back. I wasn't taking my chances anymore. As much as death didn't scare, dying did.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said, holding his hands up. It was the universal sign of innocence, but have you ever noticed guilty people did it before they were caught as well?

"Kid, trust me. I wouldn't hurt you if I wanted to. Ronnie scares the fuck out of me." He sighed. My ears perked up. Ronnie? That name was familiar. I knew him. It would be nice to see someone familiar right about now.

Where is he? I signed. The kid looked at me for a second. You don't know sign. I sighed. Why did I even sign that? If he didn't know sign then why would he know that I was telling him he didn't?

"Hold on a sec. I do know sign, thank you very much. It's just been a long ass time since I used it." The boy said with a tone I didn't really recognize, like remembrance or deja vu.

Where is Ronnie? I singed again.

"Okay, I got 'Where is Ronnie?' Is that right?" I nodded my head. "He needed to deal with . . . something. He should be back any minute. I'm Frank. I shall be your babysitter for the time being." He said holding his hand out. I hesitantly reached mine out. It hurt to move, but my mother told me to always be polite.

Max.

"Oh, I know." Frank said. He knew something I didn't, or maybe I was paranoid. It wouldn't bet her first time.

Fear was a common thing in life. You wouldn't be a human if you didn't have fear as your best friend. Even adrenaline junkies dealt with it. Don't you think right before they jumped out of that big, scary plane a little voice in the back of their head told them that they could possibly end up on with their guts spewed on the hard concrete below them? Every time I walk out of the door I have that voice screaming at me for daring to leave the only place I was safe.

I fidgeted as I sat on one of the couches in the large space. Who lives here? I asked. Frank looked thoughtful for a second before he got it.

"Oh, um, no one really. It's actually kind of a crash place for a close knit group that Ronnie and I happen to be in." Frank explained. I nodded my head. That just gave me more questions than answers.

Time ticked away slowly. It wasn't awkward. It felt like I already knew Frank. it felt like we meet before, and we were close enough to not have to talk that much. That couldn't be true though. I hadn’t meet him, but then again lots of strange things had been strange. It was a dream after all, or maybe I was in wonderland. That was just as reasonable right about now.

I didn't know what I wanted to do about it. Once Frank left and Ronnie came, what would I do? Stand there waiting for answers? Demand to know everything he knew? I didn't know. I didn't know much, honestly. I knew what I was told, and what I saw. There was so much more to life, though. If you were told about Santa Claus by someone besides your parents, would you believe it? Or maybe the fact that your parents told you that made you believe it. I didn't know anymore. My parents told me I was an only child and that there weren't monsters. It was only my wild imagination. I didn't think I was that creative. I've been wrong though.

A loud clang noise sounded. It was a door. It sounded like the one upstairs, but I was the only one up there. So, it had to be a different one. I didn't turn. I knew the form that would be walking through that door the second Frank left saying goodbye. He was here now, and I was going to get answers whether it killed me. I'm mean, I was already pretty close.

"Didn't think you would wake up that quick." Ronnie said sitting in a chair across from me.

What happened? I asked.

"Right to the point, are we?" He asked amused.

I glared at him. Tell me.

He sighed. "You were attacked."

No shit. What was I attacked by? I specified.

"I'm assuming it was Keaira." He replied with a bored tone.

I stood up. He was frustrating me, and he never said I had to stay here. I'm leaving. I signed before walking away.

"Wait." He called after me before I reached the door. "I'll tell you, if you come back." How could I resist that?

Start talking. I demanded.

"Keaira is what we like to call a siren in the biz. I'm sure you heard about the fables about them. They seduce people and then kill them. You apparently weren't seducible, so she skipped straight to the killing part." He explained seriously. I almost wanted to laugh at him, but he seriously believed what he was saying.

Sirens don't exist. I told him.

"Then what is it that attacked you? Let me guess. She sat really close to you, and then started kissing you and getting into your personal space. You didn't like it of course, but you couldn't move. It was like you were forced to do it. My question is how did you get away? People don't usually get away unless they suddenly remember someone they care for immensely, and their will power comes back."

I looked at him. You're lying. Sirens don't exist. I'm a paranoid person, so I must have just thought all that shit, and somehow you got it out of my head. He wasn't telling the truth. If he was telling the truth about that, than she isn’t the worse of them.

"Look me in the eye. I'm not lying. What I'm telling you is the complete truth." He said. His voice didn't waver. His eyes didn't flinch. He didn't blink. He didn't move in any weird way that would tell me his tell.

My mind started to spin. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. My life was normal. It was dull, and it was boring and simple and it never changed. This stuff doesn't happen, and it especially doesn't happen to me.

"Breathe, Max." Ronnie said.

How do you know that? I asked.

He shrugged. "I've known sirens for a while. Not all of them are bad. They usually are just paid to knock people out."

I looked at him. He was too perfect. He couldn't know all of this just because. He had to learn it somehow. He was too perfect, and I just know realized why. He wasn't human.

What are you?

His eyes narrowed. I wasn't supposed to ask that question. "You know what I am."

No, I don't.

"Come on, Maxie. Think about it. Suddenly people are taking interest in you, and you have no idea why. Ever since our little meet you are remembering things that you think you shouldn't. You're remembering things that didn't happen, and let's not forget that you were attacked by something that shouldn't exist. Are you honestly going to tell me you have no clue why all this is happening?" He was getting agitated, but I didn't know why. This wasn't my fault.

I don't know why this is happening. I thought you would tell me.

He laughed. It wasn't a humor filled laugh. It was like a laugh you do when you're angry, when you give up. "Did you're parents ever tell you not to be afraid of the dark because there was nothing to worry about, monsters aren't real?" He asked with a malevolent look in his eyes. He got out of his seat and walked over to me. I wasn't scared of him. Of all the things to be scared of, he should be at the top of the list, but I just wasn't.

I nodded my head.

He smirked and leaned down to whisper in my ear "Well, they lied."