Consumed (ON HOLD)

Chapter 1

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Yeah, I understand all of you wanted a lot more.  But trust me, this is SO hard to write in 2nd person and cleverly done and all that.  And it is also time consuming.  So please forgive me.  But the up side is that means I will update more!  Yay!  That is you----------->

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She watches you as you walk along the crowded sidewalks.  You push through the people, ignoring the ache in your shoulders as you push on through the crowds, splitting them with your hands.  A few people give you a nasty look, some even cussing and giving you the bird.  But you don’t care.

                A prickling filling goes up your spine, your body chills itself to the core, and you almost freeze to the spot.  Instead, you go forward, gasping for breath as the chilling starts to hurt and your feet start to feel like lead.  There’s something wrong, you can feel it to your very core.

                You stop, sit on a bench, and catch your breath.  You have to, you were starting to get light headed and you didn’t want to pass out and fall into the street.  As the car exhaust clogs your lungs, you plug your fingers inside your ears to blot out the honking and chatter.

                The longer you wait, the feeling starts to fade.  She turns her eyes away from you and you feel free.  Your very soul rejoices and you grab onto the edge of the bench for support.  The great relief stuns you, making you cautious as you stand back up.

                You allow your eyes to rove around the streets, catching a few people’s eyes here and there; maybe catch a smile or two.  When you find nothing of great interest, you walk forward, dragging your feet and scuffing your shoes.  Although they’re brand new, they’ve been scuffed like an old pair worn daily for a year.

                The casual jeans and t-shirt allows you to blend into the background.  You’re grateful, because the light headedness has not entirely disappeared.  With a toss of the hair, you continue forward, picking your feet up a little and holding your head up higher.

                This little feeling of confidence makes your steps quicken, your breath to slow to a normal pace, and you to pop from the background like red graffiti on marble steps.  Although you ignore the stares, you can feel a presence near, tugging at your consciousness.

                A slight pressure on your brain halts your steps, and your eyes widen into egg-shaped ovals.  This time, instead of stares, you get pushed and shoved into a wall.  You pull up your sleeve and examine your shoulder, eyeing the faint bruise forming there.  A sigh, and you continue on your way, entering your apartment.

                Going to the wooden cabinets in the kitchen, you extract a glass and fill it with water from the faucet.  With a simple gulp, you feel revived and you sit on your couch, staring at the empty fireplace in front of you.  There is no television, but you feel relaxed just as if you were watching television.

                You kick your feet up on the coffee table lean your head on the sofa cushion.  You close your eyes and recount the incident, roving your inner most intelligence for any clue as to what might have happened.  But the incident didn’t surprise you, it has happened before, just not in such intensity as it had this time.

                You’ve experienced it three times now: on the way to the grocery story, on your way to work, and this time, on your way home from work.  As you’ve looked closely into each, there are no seemingly similar things about these times; nothing to link them to any sort of specific problem.

                As you observe this, you snap your head up and blink rapidly into the fireplace.  If there is no link, and this is just random, that could make whatever that is happening just more dangerous.  With no way to predict when or where this problem occurs, there is no way to have a defense against it.  Making you vulnerable.

                You suck in a shaky breath, holding back tears.  You’ve never felt so alone in your entire life.  Even when you had problems and were alone, you had something to help you; some way to fend for yourself and be the least bit happy.  Now, there is nothing to save you, and the knowledge that you have a lack of knowledge on the subject makes you even more upset.

                You grab a pillow and smash it against your face, breathing in and out to calm yourself: in through the nose, out through the mouth.  Finally, you pull the pillow away from your face which has become red.

                Glancing out the window, you spy a pair of blue eyes, the likes of which you’ve never seen nor heard of before.  There’s not an ounce of pupil, just blue.  You blink and the image is gone, making you shiver with fear.  You scrounge into a ball, allowing your heart to hammer against your chest, making no move to calm yourself.  How can you when you’ve seen an image that could haunt your dreams?

                After thirty minutes and the eyes do not return, you slip into bed, not having the nerve to change into pajamas and face whatever is lurking around.  With a squeeze of your eyelids, you pray for a lengthy period of time and fall asleep, your dreams of haunted blue eyes gazing through your window, preying on you.