Waking Up

I never intended to walk into a staggering murder scene, but that is simply how this morning started out. For the past couple days I’ve been staying at a friend’s place, arriving on his birthday and although Jeremy and I were not close friends, eloping from the warm winters of Texas just sounded like a good idea. Birthdays are essentially opportunities for a few beers and other related substances. What kind of traveler would I be if one never indulged in a toke or two?

I don’t know where Jeremy is, but he is not in the apartment. The last time we were together was merely a few hours ago before I simply passed out on the beanbag chair in the living area after finishing the last of the whiskey. There was a third person with us. I’ve forgotten his name, but I still remember how he looks. And now I’m in a room with a lukewarm cup of coffee staring at the books and the clothes mangled about the floor. My eyes are still a little disoriented from the previous night; it appears I’m not as tolerant of alcohol as I once thought.

So what exactly happened? I can’t say I know for sure, but I fear that Jeremy is no longer among us. I haven’t bothered with the roommate in his room, but somehow I’m sure it will be just as bad. I remember yesterday, we had been kept up inside this place, no fresh air or anything, and decided to wander about the complex. My friend had mentioned to me that there was a nature trail around and without much more thought into the matter we just walked off. It was a good few miles from the complex; we traveled through crippling construction and tagged gas stations before finding the entrance.

There was some minor construction happening on the side walk before we pushed through a broken gate. I remember cutting my neck at the entrance as we squeezed through. I suppose it was meant to be cut off from the world, but that wasn’t my concern any more. Simply a cool spot to fuck around in, never know what you’ll find. The ground was soft, I couldn’t remember it raining at all during my stay here but I could feel my shoes sink slowly into the dirt as we moved further in.

Trash littered the pathway of this makeshift forest. I thought at the time that it was a little irritating to find and if I were an environmentalist I probably would have been pissed off. But alas I was and am simply American. We came to what looked like an ankle deep lake. Jeremy was the first to jump onto the rickety bridge connecting our side with the next and I slowly followed. I wasn’t afraid of drowning, but I did think of the unknown possibilities of what might have been underneath the water.

I remember snapping a few pictures with my phone as Jeremy went ahead. I wanted to capture the broken glass feeling of the water as the trash distorted it. Some photo ops are things you just can’t miss. I hopped off the bridge and traveled a bit further into the brush. He had been examining an oddly shaped well when I arrived. My foot trampled over a fairly new receipt with some other trash. Stopping, I had to examine these items. My body became unnerved when the receipt read the recent date and that the items purchased were bullets and a scope. I held onto it as I had caught my friend’s attention. I passed along the receipt and started to examine well, graffiti tags all over the concrete. At the corner of the stone monument was what seemed like a house arrest bracelet. I could see the blood dried over the item, then shuddered at the thought of what might have been below the murky waters. It wasn’t long before we looked at each other and decided it was best to leave.


I dropped the receipt and started my out back to the massive puddle in this uncertain area. The grass rustled as we left, I thought about possible footsteps. Without a moment to process the situation, I turned around and saw a young pale man with a rifle in his hand. I had also noticed the scope attached to it. There was a silence between us; I remember our eyes locking, reading each other to see who was going to move first. I hadn’t met him before, but stranger faces have made their presence known. Options were abundant and it was highly probable I’d be shot in any situation. My leg had twitched as our new guest decided to break the tension between us.

So how’s the Jerm doing these days?” A smile traced across his lips and they dove into one of those weird long distance couple hugs that take a while. I said nothing, only watched the two as they talked for a moment about old times. Jeremy eventually explained to me that the rifleman was an old friend of his, and that he escapes to the woods for hunting when he can. Tensions were eased but I still felt a little uneasy with the newcomer among us. There was connection between these objects on the ground and this individual and I knew it, but I was too swayed to believe that this was all merely coincidental.

I began to notice something strange about them both as we made our exit from the woods. I couldn’t keep my mind from the bracelet and the gunman walking along with us. We made it back to the apartment; my body had become less tense as we started to open up a few drinks. I watched the subtle cues between my friend and the stranger; slight touches on the arm creating sexual tension in the room. I remember nothing else. I blacked out after a whole afternoon of drinking and now alone. There’s something around my foot; the bracelet from the woods. My eyes cringe at the sight of the red dot blipping every second. It seems I’m being monitored. Attached to my ankle is a small post-it. The words, “You’re Next!” plastered in red all over it.

Everyone would tell you to call the cops, cell phones are the next wonder of this world, but being poor is not helpful towards the bill. I am one of the few who would still travel without one. There are no phones in this house, though I never expected there to be any as landlines are essentially going out.

Whoever we picked up yesterday is coming back. If not here then wherever else I go. The door handle to the front is jiggling now. I can hear the keys trying to wriggle the lock open. Mother Mary can’t hear my prayers now as I close the door to this room and grab a bat left in the corner. I try to stay composed, silent as I hear the creaking of the apartment door opening. My hands grip tightly around the weapon. I lift the bat and bust out the window. I’m on the second floor of the building. Muffled footsteps grow closer to the room as I step out and fall, hoping I hit the grass when I land.