I had never been someone who believed in magic, but the mysterious way my hair stood on end when looking into those black eyes resonated with the feeling I had in my dream. For a moment, the feeling of being watched rushed over me. Without turning my head, I peeked from the corner of my eye to catch the older lady looking away from me as I did. When I switch to the boy, I find him doing the same, avoiding my eye contact. Assuming the worst, I thought I might have smelled funny due to nose blindness, or maybe my frazzled hair was that amusing.
I moved on scrolling to another video titled HYS(Have You Seen) redhead at the bus stop.
I press the play button and watch as an ariel view of the city unfolds. It then pans over the edge of a rooftop. Across the street sits three people waiting for the bus. The video slowly zooms in showing a grainy image of the old lady, boy, and myself all at the stop. The two stared intensely at me as I watched my phone. As soon as I noticed this, the feeling of being watched rushed me again. The image continued to zoom in as the two of them slowly leaned their way closer to me. The sound of weight shifting on the bench sent pinpricks down my spine. They knew now that I saw them, and I was aware of their gaze.
Closer they leaned in, the old lady on the screen began to shift and change growing limbs and torso becoming stringy and elongated, and her hair more ragged and disheveled, the boy's eyes became pitch black, the unearthly crunch and bend of the bench were now deafening. I clench my eyelids tightly together, unable to watch the horrible creatures enclose around me, but then the sound of metal doors snaps me from my nightmare. The bus parked in front of me, the door wide open, and the older lady looked back at me in confusion.
"You coming along, dear?" She asks with a frail little voice.
Still shaken, I give my best smile and firm head shakes before climbing the steps of the bus. I pay my fair take the seat closest to the driver,r and analyze the bus. The teenage boy was at the back, still not looking up from his phone, and the older lady had taken one of the middle seats. She was the same lovely old lady I saw earlier, with no inhuman limbs or body size, giving that same warm smile when she noticed me looking. Visions like these were becoming more common, and as my therapist would say, "it's one of many ways your trauma may manifest." but for me, it was a sign I was losing it.
Taking in a gulp of air, I mustered up my warmest smile and returned to the inky blackness of my phone screen. It took a moment, but I switched it on to view the paused video. It now displayed a car losing control and smashing into a lamppost on an obscure street corner. First I made sure I didn't accidentally switch videos or filters, and then I checked the videos above and below the one I was watching and noticed they were unchanged. The bags under my eyes tugged at the lids. I closed them and applied light pressure to them in a futile attempt at relaxing.
The ringing from my dream persisted in the back of my head. The bus lights were becoming abrasive as a haze fell over my vision. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the bus window, allowing my mind to toil over the video. I was sure I saw myself, the old lady, and the boy sitting on the bench. Their bodies changed and morphed next to me. I even remember hearing it in real-time next to me. Recalling the image brought pain to my temples. I shove my hand into my hoodie pocket to grip the bottle tightly.
My chest felt tight, and I began to sweat as I tried my hardest to remember in finer detail the images from the video. The pain grew as I fought to hold the video in my mind. Finally, I gave in, letting the memory slip away and quickly opening the bottle and popping a pill into my mouth. Swallowing it grimly, I rest my head against the glass, defeated. Slowly the haze lifts and dull grey film replaces it. The video details slip away easily in my mind leaving behind a feeling of anxiety and unease.
The bus ride is quiet, and I'm left alone when the boy and older lady get off a stop before mine and, if I'm honest, undid a lot of the anxiety from earlier, making the last couple of moments on the bus genuinely peaceful. Reaching my stop, I exit the bus to the chill of the night, making my way down the same sidewalk I've walked a dozen nights before.
I pause, though when I approach the alleyway from my dreams, peering into the well-lit alley made the notion of dark hands pulling me in ridiculous and somewhat frustrating. Why couldn't I accurately remember what happened that night and how I ended up so far away?
My focused frustration broke by a car's engine rounding the corner. Loud music boomed behind illegally tinted windows. The driver seemed to notice me slowing the vehicle down to crawl as he passed, allowing me to glimpse my distorted reflection in the car's chrome. The driver hits the gas, making the car wheels spin and shriek before tearing down the street. Frazzled, I watch as it takes the corner hard and disappears. A gust of cold wind knocked against me, a reminder I had somewhere to be. I rushed the rest of the way to work, not even giving thought to whatever was going on with that driver. I walk through the sliding door of the hospital and make a b-line for the ER.