Hell on Earth

Chapter Three - Cherry Cool-Aid

When I woke up, Celeste wasn’t there. I wandered the apartment aimlessly until I stumbled on a note – a little, happy-looking note. Somehow, it seemed happy.

Alex,

You were sleeping (okay, that part was less happy and more creepy as shit) and, since I didn’t want to wake you, I decided to leave a note. See? Note.

I left you out some Advil. Take it with milk and food. No coffee, it’ll give you either a stomach ache or a headache. Don’t go to work, I texted your boss saying you still didn’t feel well and your roommate (again, a little creepy) to bring you notes from class. Stay in bed, take it easy. Don’t watch TV.

Draw or something – you have a sketchbook, right?

I’ll talk to you later!

-Celeste Montgomery

Under her name was a number and a little note ‘program me in!’

I sighed and did her bidding. “The little engine that could just can’t stop doing,” I mumbled thoughtfully.

I wandered into the kitchen, dragging my feet. Lifting them seemed like too much of a chore. I found two Advil out on the counter with a glass next to them. She’s babying me. A crazy, nice chick who I don’t even know is babying me. I sighed heavily, not used to the feeling, and rummaged around in the fridge. Questionable pizza…some water…weird bubbly water…nothing.

I sighed again, even more heavily, grabbing my jacket and preparing myself mentally for the weather. Out of milk.

The brisk crunch of snow was a nice, soothing sound. It almost helped drown out the fact my nose was freezing off. I hate winter. God dammit. Shivering and continuing my walk, I blew into my frozen hands, feeling less like death warmed over and more like death flash-frozen. This is, like, cold-rape. ‘Help, officer, I’m being physically assaulted by the weather!’

I hate winter.

When I opened the door to the little shop, the bell dinged cheerily. A Salvation Army Santa was out front, merrily waving his sign and ho-hoing. “I would donate a little more money if Santa was female and removing various items from herself in the process – say, the clothing,” I mumbled, gracing myself with a small and frozen chuckle.

The milk was cold which sucked donkey balls. There’s nothing like walking out of the freezing, mind you, freezing cold and grabbing some bottled coldness.

I hate winter.

I grabbed some hot pockets and bread, paid (barely), and left. The door dinged when I opened it and Santa was still, sadly, male.

I walked the way I had come, feeling the wind push and pull me every-which-way, trying its best to freeze me. Screw this, I just hate the outside.

Then…I felt something weird.

You know the chills feeling you get sometimes? That feeling like icy little fingers running up your spine, spidering their way to your worst fears? Little, tiny sensations that raise the hairs on your spine with awareness, warning you about something, someone. That miniscule and very acute feeling of being watched?

Exactly.

I flinched, almost dropping my groceries. My eyes were wide, observing all the faces around me for the one with the malicious intent. The problem was, everyone looked malicious in their own way. I looked down, my hair sweeping over my panicked face. Calm down! It’s probably nothing. Probably just something you’re hallucinating. Chill out. I took a deep breath and a step forward, trying my best not to break into a run. Chill. Chill out. The wind hit me again, the stinging dryness bringing tears to my eyes. Okay, bad choice of words. Calm down, crazy man.