Dark Fate

I can’t stand the creeping nausea—the sick feeling, that there is something horribly wrong. “There’s nobody following you.” I whisper to myself, under a ragged breath. “It’s just your imagination.”

I hunt for the car keys in my pockets, quickly becoming irritated by my inability to find them. Today I have an appointment with Dr. Robinson, the psychologist who helps me cope with the unpleasant, traumatic event that messed up my life. Although, I don’t necessarily enjoy attending therapy sessions, I don’t want to be late.

“Ah ha,” I grin. “There you are,” I say, dangling the keys in front of me. Echoing behind the dangling keys, however, there is another faint sound. Footsteps scratch across the cement floor.

I turn, checking to see who approaches. However, I don’t spot anyone. Perhaps I simply imagined those footsteps. My parents died in an automobile accident when I was very young. Ever since, I have suffered from paranoia. I live haunted by the constant fear that there is something ominous looming in the shadows.

I was in the car with my parents during the tragedy, and I can’t stop thinking that I should have died with them. I was only four at the time so I don’t clearly remember what happened, however, I have faint flashbacks of the horrible incident. I can vaguely recall the fear and horror on my mother’s face as flames began to swallow the car. Screams still freshly ring in my ears. They are my mother’s screams, calling out my father’s name. My father however, sits unconscious in the driver’s seat with his life slowly slipping away.

Footsteps. The sound comes again, waking me from my reverie. I turn, scanning the parameter. “Hello is there anyone there?” I ask.

A masked man holding a pistol jumps out in front of me. “Get on the fucking ground, now!” He shouts, pointing the gun to my head.

Frightened, I comply immediately dropping down unto the hard, wet cement floor. I feel a boot church into my rib cage, and my breath wheezes out of my lungs mechanically. I curl into the fetal position for the next two or three kicks.

The masked man’s hands roughly jab through my pockets, and stop only once they have managed to find my wallet. Furthermore, he yells at me to give him the leather jacket I’m wearing. I obey, hoping that he now finally has what he wants and will leave me alone. My assailant isn’t satisfied though.

His gaze fall to ring that hangs on a silver chain around my neck. “Give me the ring.” He barks.

No, I can’t. I think to myself. I can’t give him my father’s ring. It’s all I have left of him.

“Give me the fucking ring!” He yells.

“No!” I shout back. Then all the lights in the parking facility flicker, the temperature drops dramatically, and I shiver as my breath becomes a visible cloud of white puffs. Blinking at the sudden darkness, I watch as the gun flies out of my assailant’s hands and he starts levitating, floating effortlessly in thin air. He blinks too, surprised by what’s going on. Fear films his eyes.

Suddenly, he crashes violently against a wall then collapses unto the floor. He scrambles, quickly standing back on his feet then screams and runs like hell. He runs like his fucking damn life depends on it.