The Psychic Next Door

Chapter 3: Missing

What was that?

My imagination was probably on the fritz because I was feeling out of sorts and awake in the middle of the night... It had to have been a heat vent, right? But it had distinctly felt like breath on my wrist. And it had come from below my hand, almost from under my bed, while the vents in my basement suite were all on the ceiling...

My hand shook violently as I turned my phone on, seeking some kind of comfort from the light, even if it was just the dim blue from the screen. I felt like a child again, turning on my nightlight after a nightmare. The phone cast a ghostly glow around my room, barely improving the darkness. I held it up and scanned my room, using it as a weak flashlight.

Something flashed by, darting past in the shadows. Every muscle in my body tensed. I dropped my cell into the folds of my blanket, plunging the room back into darkness. Fighting against my fear, I willed myself to move, to think rationally. I lunged for my bedside table, to turn on the lamp and scare away the monsters in the shadows. I gripped the neck of the lamp with both hands, strangling it as I fumbled for the switch. Lost in panic, I felt like the darkness was moving closer, swallowing me.

I found the nub on the lamp's neck and pushed it in. It sprang to life, flooding the room with comforting light.

There was nothing there. My bedroom door was still closed, as was my closet. I toyed with the idea of peering under my bed but then remembered that there was no way in hell anything could fit under there—every inch of that space had been stuffed with boxes and suitcases. If there were a monster under there, it would have to be a very, very small one.

Uncovering my phone again, I checked the time; it was just after three in the morning. I sighed deeply. I needed to get back to sleep for work tomorrow, otherwise I would be completely useless and Polly, my boss, would not be happy.

I breathed deeply, deliberately, to calm myself. Breathe in, breathe out. Concentrate on that, I told myself, not the products of your overactive imagination. There's no such thing as monsters! In the warm light, my fears seemed foolish.

But I still slept with the light on.

🔮

"Sorry I'm late!" I choked out as I burst into the office. I was only eleven minutes late, but this was the second time this week and Polly did not tolerate tardiness. I struggled for breath after running up six flights of stairs, but I hoped my obvious rush would help persuade Polly to forgive me... or, at the very least, not fire me.

But she wasn't here; the little office was empty aside from Harriet, my mousy fellow intern, who was already seated at her desk and working diligently. She looked up from her computer, pushing aside her limp, dirty-blonde hair, and gave me a withering glare.

"Again, Rachel?" she sneered—which made her look positively rat‑like—as if my being late were a personal offense to her.

It was difficult to suppress my urge to snap at her as I slumped off to my little desk tucked into the corner of our shared office.

When she realized I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of getting a rise out of me, she went back to slurping her coffee loudly. I tensed with irritation, but I managed to stay silent. If I was lucky, I would have a moment to prepare myself before Polly came back; maybe she would be none-the-wiser... unless Harriet decided to tattle on me. Which was totally something she would do.

"What was it this time?" Harriet continued after a moment, clearly not satisfied with her first jibe.

"I misplaced my keys," I replied huskily, still very much out of breath, as I put my things away. Even to my ears it sounded like a lie, though it was absolutely the truth.