One Lucky Unlucky Week

Submitted into Contest #140 in response to: Write a story inspired by a memory of yours.... view prompt

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Fantasy Suspense Adventure

This story contains sensitive content

Contains sensitive topics, including sexual violence, trafficking, and mental health.


Kala stopped on the running trail to tie her worn running shoes. She had purchased them on a whim after having her arches assessed; sprained arches were a thing of the past. She had been on a temporary duty assignment, TDY for short, for a month already. Five more months and she’d have to go back to her life in Nebraska. For now, she stayed in Meridian, Mississippi, where the mosquitos could compare to hummingbirds, had they been prettier and bitten her less.

She had been a runner since her high school days. A member of the Cross-Country team, she learned she had both speed and stamina; not the best, not the worst, yet she could run hurdles, sprint, and run marathons. She could do anything she put her mind to. Except stay safe from assholes. What drew evil to her?

She sipped from her camel back as she zigzagged through the woods. This had become Kala’s favorite running trail; she could run the hilly trail or swim across the lake it surrounded. The heat tempted her to jump in, but she chose to run instead. After all, she didn’t have a change of clothes with her.

Three miles into the run, Kala smiled. She only had one and a half miles to go. Lost in the movement, she recalled her dreams. Trust your instincts, Kala, her father had said from his gravestone as she wept and searched the graveyard for enemies. A shaky gasp escaped her; she breathed deeply, feeling the oxygen flow through her nose, into her lungs, her blood, and her brain. She looked ahead at the trail then ran with her eyes closed for a few seconds, relishing in danger’s rush. Her vision turned red. Her breath hitched and she gasped for air, until she remembered this happened a few days ago. She stopped, wondering why she had more panic attacks recently. She had been scared to talk to anyone. Her insanity would cost her a clearance and a steady job.

The heat of the morning chilled like all the fire had been sucked from the sun. The sky darkened, as if a spell had been cast. Rain poured on her head, soaking her. She laughed at the timing of her wet clothing thoughts and sighed, watching the water spew from her lips like a sprinkler. She sped up, hoping to reach the other end before slipping on a mud patch and rolling down the hill, into the lake.

Lightning struck above her; with a crack, a tree split, falling towards her head like a booby trap. She rolled forward as it landed, barely clearing the limbs that cracked like a whip against the watery path. Her heart sped and she laid on the ground for a moment, catching her breath. Her legs shook as she stood, but she had no injuries. What luck she had today. A sensation like tapping in the back of her mind told her there was more to it than luck.

Kala raced back to her car, pulled a towel from her bag, and placed it on her seat before driving back to her rented apartment across from the downtown bar, situated near the square and the police station.

She wiggled the lock on her deadbolt, growling as it stuck. Stupid key. Or is it the lock? Something’s not right here.

When she entered, her apartment felt cold and haunted, but her shih-tzu greeted her with snuggles and kisses. She changed into dry clothes, grabbed her rainbow-colored umbrella, and took Swiffer for a walk. A sensation like eyes in the back of her mind sent goosebumps to her skull, so rushed back to her safe-ish haven. She and Swiffer shook off when they entered the apartment again. The prickly sensation still in her mind, she locked the deadbolt, triple-checked the back door, and moved the couch in front of her door.

She washed away the stress in a steaming shower then ate her leftovers from the night before: grilled eggplant topped with homemade hummus and sauteed tomatoes. Her stomach still growled when she finished, but the excitement from the day drained her too much to cook. She’d make an omelet in the morning.

After a night filled with nightmares, which she couldn’t recall once she woke, she dragged on her flight suit, took Swiffer out, and drove to Key Field, where she taught Signals Intelligence to Airmen from multiple squadrons. During her breaks, she read homework from her Criminal Justice bachelor’s degree program. She hoped she never had to go through the sex crimes she read about. The images in her mind seemed real, but she wrote them off as vivid imagination.

After work, she went home and changed. Swiffer’s tiny legs couldn’t handle the long run, but the stress of the day needed release, so she took him on a quick walk before heading to the park, despite the tree adventure. In fact, something about the tree seemed mystical. Nature wanted to help her, never harm her. She could love animals and the land more than the people who surrounded her, though she felt love for humanity. Her true love—life—didn’t treat her well. Did life treat her how she treated herself? A doormat?

She raced through the path, now dry despite the torrent the previous evening. That was the power of Meridian. The heat turned to humidity, turned to dryness in her eyes. She blinked tears into her sockets, hoping to ease her achy soul. The energy around her sent her mind into overdrive; memories of abuses she blocked, abuses she allowed because they were all she deserved. She wanted to feel like she didn’t deserve the pain, yet a sinking feeling that she would live a life full of pain and regrets pulled her down. It was easier to accept pain if she deserved it.

She focused back on the run, determined to defeat the emotions as they pulled her in. For a reason she couldn’t understand, the only time she ever felt the sadness within herself occurred when she focused on a personal goal, away from others. She ran for freedom. Never in her life had she stopped creating adventures in her mind, which kept her numb enough to seem sane to people around her. In times of stress, she had her fantasy world to fall back on.

Sunlight streamed through the dark green leaves above her, shrouding her in natural glitter which hid the pain inside. The sensation like a rusty nail in her eyeball threatened her, so she breathed deeply. The scents of grass and maple, earth, and slight mildew merged in her mind. Her feet cemented to the ground, yet she felt lighter, freer. The area between her eyes pulsated like a drum and an invisible finger tapped her heart. Images of light filled her.

As a child, she had enjoyed sniffing blades of grass. She’d rub her finger along the serrated edge, then along the smooth top of each blade. Some had been fresh and crisp; others bug-eaten with withered brown holes. The energies sent waves of peace into her mind. Only once during this phase of her life had she papercut her nose with the leaf. Curiosity led her to lick the blade afterward; a rough tongue had to be stronger than the flimsy skin along her nose.

She smiled as sweat-soaked hair fell at random intervals from her ponytail. Wind cooled her neck as she continued, until she spotted a juvenile rattlesnake slithering across the path. Fog rose through the sun’s rays. Hope. Rattlesnakes meant no harm; they would only attack if threatened.

“Hi there, little snakie. I’m just passing through. Here, I’ll slow down as I pass you. Go live a long, free life in the fallen leaves. I love you, snakie poo.”

With a giggle, she continued her run. The past couple of days seemed a warning. She needed to focus on her surroundings. Attention to detail would keep her safe.

The next morning, nausea swam in her stomach while she considered the signs from the past two days. The universe had to be telling her something, but what? Would something happen at work?

She called her Chief Master Sergeant to discuss the Saturday schedule. She needed Swiffer. The national guard members often huddled in the offices in full force, talking to her when she’d rather listen to music and test herself like she tested her students. As a people pleaser, she talked to them. She’d rather have a break excuse before they approached.

When she hung up, Kala smiled at the prospect. Take your pup to work day! Another instructor, Amber, had brought hers a few days when work was lax. Wishing she had a puppy seat belt, she tied Swiffer’s leash to the back seat. For extra safety, she placed her backpack and lunch box on the floor so her poor pup wouldn’t hang himself.

Why does your mind always go so morbid, Kala? With a look at the book on her passenger seat, she knew the answer. Her forensics classes opened her eyes to the darkness she sensed around her. Though Swiffer didn’t have the strength of a pit bull, he provided a soft, warm presence that accepted her as herself. She didn’t have to pretend with a pup. He already saw her heart.

At work, people greeted her left and right, drawn in more by the fluffy pup than by her smile alone. She couldn’t not smile. If she stopped smiling, she’d cry all the time. All professionalism would go out the window. She gritted her teeth and waited for the day to end, then went home and changed into jeans and a t-shirt before walking Swiffer again.

“Hey!” she heard as she crossed the street. “You look good!” She looked back to see a man waltz across the road, wearing a suit that had to cost as much as the local apartment buildings. “My name is Tyler. Wanna be my friend?”

She considered smiling, though every nerve in her body fired. She reacted this way around most men; did her military training cause her paranoia? She considered again and shook herself. He ran across the street to tell me I look good. I don’t even like that from people I know.

“Sorry, I don’t befriend people I just met.”

“You won’t regret it. Come on!”

“No, go away!” She went around the block, through apartment buildings and back to her own, though he had to know she lived right behind where he had seen her. Her heart raced as she locked the doors, then looked over, noticing the blinds for the first time since she had moved in, a month prior. The previous tenants had had a Great Dane, which ripped at the blinds until they were a foot shorter than the window. The property owner hadn’t found the right size yet. Kala wished her gun wasn’t in the armory.

After checking the front and back doors five times, she started making dinner. Amber called as she kneaded the dough.

“Sorry, need to put you on speaker. Hold on.”

“Oh, no worries! Are we still on for Dan’s birthday?”

“Yeah, I’m making the pizzas now. The cake will be here in a couple of hours, courtesy of our lovely neighbors.”

“Cool. I’ll be down to help you after a shower. Just took Max for a run.”

Kala smiled. “Awesome. I’ll unlock the door after the dough’s in the oven.”

After hanging up, Kala pressed on the dough with more ferocity. If only she had other friends like Amber, who talked to her like a human. So far, she got along with the students better than the instructors. Did it cross a line to party with the students? No. People needed friends, especially when training to go to war. A sensation like bugs crawled up her spine. War. She couldn’t wait until her enlistment’s end in a year.

As the oven beeped, indicating the dough’s readiness for toppings, Amber knocked and entered, her red Rhodesian Ridgeback, Max, leading the way. Swiffer ran towards Max, tucking his tail and panting as he moved closer, turning his body so Max could sniff him. Max responded by jumping in circles.

Kala laughed. “Dog greetings are so weird. Though they probably think the same about us when we smile.”

Amber smiled. “When did Swiffer get here?”

“A couple of weeks ago. My husband came down…”

Amber looked around, suddenly tense. “Is he gone?”

“Yeah.”

“I saw someone outside your window this afternoon, when I came back with Max.”

“What did he look like?”

“Tall, in a fancy suit.”

“Looks like he belongs on the cover of Drug Lord Magazine?”

“Yeah… It looked like he was playing with Swiffer through the window.”

“Shit… he does know where I live. I… I gotta tell someone.”

“Call Chief. I’ll clean up a little and make a salad.”

“Good idea. Thanks so much for telling me.”

She went into the bedroom to make the call. As she discussed with Chief Stone, she stared at the bumpy white wall. Chief told her to call the police.

“Meridian Police Station, how may I help?” a woman’s voice said.

“I need to report a stalker.”

“Okay, one moment.”

A moment dragged into a century as the shittiest elevator music Kala had ever heard played, with static interruption every millisecond.

“This is Officer Stanley; how can I help?”

“I need to report a stalker.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Kala described the incident as clearly as she could, closing her eyes so she couldn’t see the images that projected from her mind onto her unmade bed.

“Oh, that’s Tyler. He’s schizophrenic; harmless.”

“Schizophrenia doesn’t excuse stalking,” Kala responded. The officer refused to take a report and instead directed her to come straight to the police station if it happened again.

When she hung up, she said, “Yeah, right. You wouldn’t help me now. How could I trust you to help me if I need it again?” The situation made her think of dirty cops. The tapping sensation in the back of her head increased her fears.

She opened her window for fresh air, then sputtered, sneezed, and closed the window. Great, the smokers are out in full force. Fucking allergies on top of this mess. She grabbed her Claritin then headed back into the kitchen, where people had already gathered for the party. The only missing person, the birthday man, would come after he finished work.

After a night of drinking and eating pizza, they revealed the birthday cake. Blue orbs resembling a butt stared at Kala, though the baker had intended them to be boobs. “Strawberry tips would have helped it look less butt-like,” Kala said before chugging her glass of rum and coke and grabbing another. Prone to binge drinking around people, no one saw through the painted smile on her face, though Amber’s eyes met hers with sympathetic smiles.

The next morning, she woke to stabbing pains in her right eye. Her mouth felt like a cottonmouth snake had bit it, and her sinuses whistled as she breathed. She pulled water from the fridge and gulped from the jug, spilling down her chest and soothing her nerves. She had a day off. She had her knife. She would take Swiffer for a walk again.

She drove to the park only to find it closed. When she asked, she learned inmates were doing work in the woods. Inmates with chainsaws. Yep, she might be safer near her home, where she could barricade her door. After driving back downtown, she walked Swiffer the opposite way she had the previous day.

“Hey!” the familiar voice screamed across the road.

She turned around and thought she saw red in the man’s eyes. Like a cartoon villain. Her hand trembled as she reached for her knife and flicked it out. “Stop following me or I’ll stab you.”

The man stopped in his tracks. Had she mistaken his intent?

No. He encroached my bubble space, so I need to protect myself.

The man backed away and talked with a friend Kala hadn’t seen, who hid behind a black van with tinted windows so black she questioned the legality. She went back to her car and drove to the Airfield, where Chief Stone took a report on her behalf and demanded the police investigate it and the officer who had disregarded her issue. Luck was on her side during these unlucky times. Had she not listened to the magical thinking, the dreams, would she have been trafficked, or worse?

She went straight to her property owner and demanded a rush on the blinds. Then she requested new locks and chains. Amber also agreed to walk with her until the coast cleared.

When she dreamed that night, her father said, “Kala, I’m proud of you.” She had trusted her instincts and survived.

 

 

April 07, 2022 14:03

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