Depths (11 page)

I hated it, but there wasn't much else I could
do.

“
Yeah well, she doesn't
always
listen.
”

The waitress came back and set our meals in front of
us. The aroma of grease and the unmistakable stench of
over-processed cow met my nostrils.

As fast as the food
appeared,
my appetite
disappeared
.

He cut into his steak and the
juices flowed from it. He greedily shoveled it into his mouth while
I played with my own food with my knife. The sponge like
“
steak
”
expelled grease
with every poke and prod.

Not wanting to be the only one not eating, I cut
into the steak, averting my eyes from the plate.

Charles polished off almost half of his meal before
finally speaking again.

“
I'm not doing this for
you,
”
he began, stopping to finish the
last bit of food in his mouth before continuing,
“but I know you can take care of her and she
needs that right now.
”

The words were forced, and familiar to my ears.

I slammed my fists onto the table and shut my
eyes.

“
Enough!
”
I screamed out. I had seen this same scenario unfold at least
a dozen times now.

Sometimes I had the chicken-fried
steak, sometimes he did. Sometimes I ate nothing. Sometimes it was
nighttime, other times it was breakfast. There was a redhead
waitress, a brunette waitress and a blonde waitress. One of them
was really old and others were young. Peggy's Diner, Sue's Diner,
Moe's Diner, The Resthouse. The name changed every time but it was
always the
same fucking diner.

A copy of a copy of a copy.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

My eyes snapped open. I rolled
over in my bed and smacked the alarm clock until I found the
“
Off
”
button.
Where was I? I sat up in
my bed, my own bed. In my own room.

I couldn't remember a thing about last night and my
head was throbbing. I rose from bed and walked through my open
bedroom door into the hallway. I wasn't going to bother getting
dressed yet, I didn't even want to be awake but I needed
aspirin.

Stacks of dishes were piled up on the counter, which
I really should take care of, but I'll get to them later. First
thing first.

I opened the cabinet above the
sink, knocking aside various bottles of whatever until I found the
aspirin. I popped the child-safety lock and dumped several of the
tablets into my mouth and guzzled water from the
sink faucet
.

What the hell did I do last night?
It's not like I spent the night drinking with friends. The idea of
me spending time with
“
friends
”
made me laugh a little. I started back to my room
when I remembered I had some laundry left in the garage.

I went to the garage to the washer against the wall
and opened up the lid, took the clothes out and opened the dryer
door and tossed handfuls of soggy clothes in. The smell of laundry
soap stuck to my hands even after I dried them off. It would take
about 45 minutes for the clothes to dry. The noise from the dryer
immediately brought back the headache that the aspirin was just
starting to dull away.

I groaned and headed back to the hallway door. When
I opened it, I noticed the door to my office was open.

So was your bedroom door when you woke up. Since
when do you EVER leave the doors open?

I
don't
leave them open.

The house seemed much colder than before I went into
the garage. I rubbed my hands together and already saw goosebumps
popping up on my legs and arms. I walked over to the office door
and closed my hand around the knob.

I paused for a moment to take a quick look around
but I didn't see anything unusual, so I shut the door.

I don't know what it was, but I
felt
…
Different. There was a particular
emotion I could feel, but I couldn't tell what it was. I've never
been great at identifying feelings. I shook it off and went back
into my bedroom so I could get dressed.

The first place I usually looked for clothes to wear
was the floor, but I didn't see any there so I went to my dresser
instead. I grabbed a navy blue T-shirt from the top drawer, black
pants from the second to last drawer and socks from the middle
drawer. I hopped around on one foot until I was able to get the
pants up and then sat on the bed to get the shirt and socks on.

I grabbed a navy blue t-shirt from the top drawer,
black pants from the second to last drawer and socks from the
middle drawer.

Navy-blue shirt, top drawer. Black pants from the
second to last. Socks from the middle... Was that right?

I got up off the bed and went back to my dresser and
opened the top drawer. Yep, inside were shirts. At least the few
that were left. The rest were in the dryer right now. Blue, gray,
black, brown, white. Shirts. Why was this strange? I couldn't quite
put my finger on it but it bothered me. And that feeling I had in
the hallway was creeping back up on me. It made me feel heavy. Like
my limbs were made from lead. I had to sit back down on my bed, but
that just made it harder to breathe. I inhaled deeper and deeper to
get a normal breath of air and my head went blank for a moment. I
exhaled shakily, which confused me, and I felt my eyes welling
up.

A tear drop plopped down onto my hand. More little
drops spilled over the rim of my eyelids and fell. The tears were
warm but they cooled quickly and evaporated off my face, leaving
streaks. I didn't know what was wrong but I couldn't stop the tears
from flowing. I let myself fall back onto my pillows and rolled
over onto my side, crying shamelessly until I drifted off to
sleep.

It must have been quite some time
later when I woke up, no light at all came in through the curtains.
I peeled my face off my pillow, soggy from my crying, and sat up. I
couldn't explain what had come over me, I just cried. Not only
that, I cried myself to sleep. I didn't know what to make of it,
but it was
rejuvenat
ing though.

What time was it? How odd, my
alarm clock wasn
’
t on my
nightstand.

A loud crack from outside my door
interrupted my thoughts, but I didn
’
t
remember shutting my door before I passed out.

The house started shaking and without a thought, I
turned and jumped over my bed to the other side and ducked
down.

I peeked under the bed, a crushing sense of dread
washed over me. My chest tightened, my breathing became shallow,
quick breaths. Sweat slicked my palms and my heart pounded in my
ears.

Not again, please not
again
…
What new horror would come for me
this time? Is this another dream? Am I awake?

Details, look for the details!

Dresser, television,
closet
…
But what color is the dresser
supposed to be? My clock? Did I have a clock? I have to have a
clock, but maybe I misplaced it or knocked it some
—

Silence, dead silence for only a
split second
…

The b
edroom door
pealed off its
hinges with a loud crack and was sucked away backwards down the
hall, drywall and wood snapped and crashed into the walls and air
rushed around my room
—
sending papers
flying, knocking over my lamp and pulling my closet door
open.

My breathing increased to a frantic pace and I felt
a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.

Details, details, details.
Remember the details, this can
’
t be
real
…
Breathe. Just breathe... In one,
two, three, four
…
Out one, two, three,
four...

A black vortex twisted its way down the hall,
tearing apart everything in its path. Drywall crumbled and support
beams were ripped from their foundations and sucked into the
cyclone. The roof was torn apart and shingles flew into the
spiraling mass of what used to be my house. It advanced slowly,
taking its time, ensuring that everything was devoured before
continuing further on its rampage.

My bed shook, the legs jumping and slamming into the
ground and lurched towards the doorway. I stayed low, and clung
desperately to the leg but it rattled so violently that it hurt my
hands.

The pillows and sheets were pulled out the entryway,
sucked up like a giant vacuum, and my television slammed into the
walls. Glass shattered and the television stand hit the door frame,
taking a chunk out of it, before being sent into the abyss.

The vortex was just a few feet from the doorway now.
The pain was unbearable and I let go of the bed leg and clenched my
fists, trying to nurse the blood back into my fingers. The legs
clattered on the floor before the bed rose completely off the
ground and flew towards the door, getting caught in the doorway for
a moment before collapsing in the middle like a toothpick, and
finally consumed by the unstoppable maw.

The vortex stopped at my doorway, throwing dust and
debris into my now exposed face. The curtains ripped away from the
bar on the window which went hurtling into the vortex like a
javelin. The window exploded, sending glass zooming about my room
like little razors, slicing at my skin and drawing blood every
time. I looked behind me just as my dresser drawers were pulled
out, and my entire wardrobe went into the spiral.

I scrambled toward my closet, clawing and fighting
against the pull of the vortex. I dug my nails into the carpet,
using every bit of strength I had to keep from getting sucked into
the black spiral. With a last burst of energy, I leapt and grabbed
the edge of the open closet door, clinging on by my fingertips.

With the remainder of my energy, I pulled myself
into the closet and shut the door, gripping the doorknob with
everything I had to hold the door shut, as the vortex whipped
debris around like a blender. My ears rang with the racket, I
couldn't hear a thing, not even the thoughts in my head.

I shut my eyes and prayed it would end quickly.

I sat there in my closet for what seemed like hours,
holding the door shut until the vortex subsided. I relaxed my grip
on the door knob and stayed put for a moment while I collected
myself.

Silence. Pure silence.
There
’
s a thing called the
“
anechoic chamber
”
that
’
s in this lab somewhere.
It
’
s the world
’
s
quietest room. Supposedly, it
’
s so quiet
that you can hallucinate because you hear all the noise going on
inside your body, like your blood circulating, your lungs moving
against the walls of your chest. It starts making you go crazy. The
longest anyone has stayed in there is 45 minutes.

I bet I could do better.

I just witnessed a tornado tearing
through my house, I
’
ve died a few times
now
—
not sure of the exact number
…
Along with all the other stuff going on,
I
’
m still breathing. Maybe not entirely
sane, but alive. I bet I could live inside that chamber.

My breathing gradually calmed down
and I was able to stand. I opened the closet door and stepped into
the wreckage of what used to be
my room.

The silence followed me into the
room, the dust hadn't quite settled yet and I sucked it up into my
nose and mouth as I inhaled, making me cough. The echoes of the
noise ricocheted around the indescribable wreckage, not so much
from what
was
damaged but what
wasn't
damaged.

A few scratches here and there on
the walls from where furniture and glass had banged into and sliced
up, but for the most part the room wasn't touched. The roof was
still intact over my head as well but the
door
way that used to lead
into my hallway was piled up with rubble though. Twisted metal
frames jigged and jagged
—
ready to impale
some unfortunate person, probably me
—
and
snapped beams jutted out from underneath drywall and tile. I could
even make out various food items that had to have come from the
kitchen.

I was completely blocked in.

Outside the window from my room was only blackness,
like the vortex dragged the entire sky into its heart. There was
nothing.

Literally
, nothing.

I walked back to the corner by the closet and
slumped into it.

This made no sense.

I held my head in my hands, trying to think of
something, anything that I could do. It could take days, weeks
even, to unblock the doorway from the wreckage. Not to mention I
didn't have any food or water.

Looks like you're shit out of luck.

Shut up.

You could always jump out the window.

Possibly. But what was out there?

I got back up and went to the window and winced from
a sharp pain in my foot. Balancing against the wall, I held my foot
up and saw a chunk of glass embedded deep into the ball of my foot.
I gritted my teeth and ripped it out with my fingers and set my
foot back on the ground. Blood oozed out and I wiped it away. I
hadn't even taken two steps when another piece of glass lodged
itself in my other foot.