The Empty Parking Lot

Willow noticed for the first time this evening that the parking lot was empty. She looked down at her watch and then back out the window of her office building. “Shoot,” she muttered. She hadn’t meant to work this late, and she knew her roommate, Sophie, would be upset that she was missing the “Prequel to the Best Thanksgiving Ever,” another made-up event used as an excuse for Sophie to slam down tequila shots while belting out Whitney Houston songs all night. If Willow left now she would be able to make it home by nine o’clock, only an hour late to the party. She stacked her paperwork neatly on her desk and did her rounds in the office turning off the lights.

It had been a quiet day in her small office. Her boss, a longtime divorce attorney, had joked that people were more charitable during the holiday season, and normally waited until after the New Year to file for a divorce, or to file their “New Year’s Resolution” as her boss put it. Willow was new to the firm, and dreamt of the day that she would no longer be an assistant but finally an attorney. So, she was putting in the effort now to learn from her boss, but unfortunately that also involved long hours. 

Willow wasn’t entirely sure when the office cleared out or how long she had been alone. She thought her boss was the last person out a few hours ago, but she swore she heard some shuffling in the front not too long ago. She wondered if someone came into the office while she was in the back at her desk. The thought made her shiver a little and she immediately felt foolish about it. She knew that the office was located in a safe area, but she always felt a little creeped out when she was leaving for the day. She once read an article in a magazine that claimed people have the innate ability to tell when someone is staring at them, a “biological survival instinct.” Although she was sure the article was crap, she thought about it often. She thought about it when she walked across the parking lot to her car each day. 

Willow made her way to the front of the building and turned off the lobby light. Ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling. She looked back at the front desk in the dark. Ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling. She hesitated with her hand on the handle of the front door. It could be Sophie calling wondering where she was, she thought. Maybe she forgot the number to Willow’s desk phone. Willow turned on the lobby lights and made her way to the phone. As she reached for the phone the ringing stopped. She stood by the phone a few more moments waiting to see if the phone rang again. Willow sighed and walked back to the front door, turning off the lights one more time. Ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling. This time she maneuvered her way to the phone in the dark and picked it up before the call could end. 

“Peterson and Meyer, how can we assist?” Willow answered in the most cheery voice she could muster. She pressed the phone tighter to her ear, trying to make out the gargled noise on the other end of the line. 

“Hello? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” Willow said quietly, her stomach dropping quickly. She counted to ten in her head before she hung up the phone. She walked quickly to the front door, stubbing her toe on the corner of the front desk in the process. She groaned in pain and reached for the front door. Her body was half way out the doorway when she heard the shrill ring of the phone again. Ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling. She stood in the doorway facing the dark parking lot. Just let it ring, she thought. Ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling. She sighed, “This is the last time,” Willow said to herself.

Willow picked up the phone and heard “I Have Nothing” by Whitney Houston blaring into the receiver. 

“Sophie?” Willow yelled over the music. 

“Willow!” Sophie’s excited voice slurred into the phone. “Where the hell are you, roomie?” 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m headed back now, Soph. How is everything?” Willow asked, still yelling. 

“I love this song so much. Whitney is my soulmate,” Sophie slurred again. Willow laughed in return. 

“Why’d you keep calling?” Willow asked. 

“What are you talking about, Will?” Music and laughter was loud in the background and she could hear Sophie talking to someone else.

“You called before,” Willow said with worry in her voice. “Right, Sophie?” 

She heard Sophie’s loud laughter and what sounded like a, “Love ya, Will!”

“No, wait. Sophie, you have to tell me if you called before.” Silence. “Sophie?” The line went dead. 

Willow slammed the phone back into the receiver and looked out the front windows. The parking lot was still empty. She raced to the door and stepped out of the office. Where are my keys, she thought. She pushed junk around her purse, frantically looking for her keys. She could hear the phone ringing again from inside the office. Her heartbeat quickened. There was no way she was going back in there now. Her fingers made their way around her set of keys and she quickly locked the front door. She felt uneasy, and not simply because of the phone. She felt that someone was staring at her.

Slowly, she turned away from the front door and looked out into the dark parking lot. Her yellow ‘88 CRX was at the end of the parking lot, and she was cursing herself for not parking underneath a lamppost. She kept her car key between her fingers, prepared to unlock the car door when she made it there. Her eyes scanned the parking lot. It was silent right now, with the exception of a dog barking in the distance. Although her office building was in a safe area, it was pretty desolate. Adjacent to the parking lot was a dirt lot, and adjacent to that was a small two-level home, which she always assumed was abandoned. She clutched her jacket closer to her body, shivering from both the wind and her paranoia. 

Crunch. Willow’s heart stopped as she heard the noise behind her. She swung her head around, scanning the area. She couldn’t make out much past the parking lot, the area was too dimly lit, but she recognized the noise as leaves crunching under someone’s step. It sounded like it was coming near the dirt lot. She paused for a moment more and then quickened her step to her car. Crunch. Crunch. She didn’t look back this time, she instead jogged the rest of the way to her car. She fumbled with her car keys, shaking too much to get them in the lock the first time around. “Breathe, Willow,” she said. She slid into the driver’s seat and slammed her hand down on the lock button. Before she could let out a sigh of relief, her eyes landed on the windshield. There was something stuck on her passenger side wiper blade. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said to herself. 

Willow opened the car door and without closing it, ran to the other side of the car to clear her windshield. It was an envelope. She tentatively reached over to grab it. She pulled the envelope close to her face and read  “SINNER” in large letters. Willow started to shake and felt a chill down her back. She nervously took the contents of the envelope out and read, “All sinners go to hell!” She read the message a few times wondering what it meant or why someone would put it on her car. A gust of wind blew the paper out her hands and landed on the ground a few paces away from her car. She squinted and saw that there was something else written on the back of the paper. She ran over and picked it up. “Oh, God,” she grumbled. She realized it was a religious flier, urging her to repent her sins at the church down the block. Crumbling up the paper, she walked back to her car and made a vow that she would quit watching so many horror movies and park closer to the front door. 

Willow made the drive back to her apartment listening to AM radio, something that her dad did when she was growing up; it never failed to calm her nerves. In the safety of her car she analyzed the situation. It was probably a client calling the firm. Sure, it was after hours, but she knew that didn’t stop clients from calling in about their problems. The crunching she heard in the parking lot was obviously an animal, she rationalized. She was wondering if the long hours at the firm were impacting the practical part of her brain. She made her way to her neighborhood and circled around the block a few times. All the street parking was filled, presumably mostly by the party goers at her house and people visiting family for the upcoming holiday. Finally, three blocks down she spotted a space; it would have to do. She stepped out of her car and locked the doors.

It wasn’t until about ten buildings down when she heard it. It was easy to miss, it blended in well with the city noises, but what gave it away was the rhythm. She would walk and the noise would come, she would slow down and the noise would stop. She tested it for a brief while before she decided to shift to a slow jog. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Willow was now in a frenzy. She brushed tears quickly away from her eyes. What is happening, she thought. She stopped, and whipped around as fast as she could. She saw nothing, but the feeling was still there, the feeling that someone was staring at her. 

“I know you’re there!” she yelled. She heard nothing back in return. She held her ground for a minute longer, until she heard a loud bang. She felt a loud yelp escape her mouth. From the alley to her right, a cat had jumped on a trash can. Willow ran the rest of the way to her apartment. She had her hand on her front door when she felt someone grab her shoulder. Willow shrieked. 

“Dude! Calm down,” Sophie laughed, bending over clutching her stomach. 

Willow’s eyes narrowed, her heart still in her chest, and hit Sophie’s arm. “You scared the shit out of me Soph. I’ve had the worst night. What are you doing out here?”

Sophie pulled up a case of beer in her right hand and smirked. “Beer run.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Like you need to drink more.” Sophie smiled, linked arms with her, and brought her into the party. 

Despite the turmoil from the evening, Willow had fun at the party. Sophie told her that she showed up at the perfect time. The place was packed, with a lot of people coming in and out. She was surprised at how many people she didn’t recognize. As the night turned into early morning, everyone had eventually left. She went into the bathroom, took a shower, and did her bedtime routine. Whitney Houston was still playing on the stereo in her living room. Willow sang along quietly and smiling, thinking about how ridiculous she had been before. When she was done, she opened the bathroom door and called Sophie’s name, but didn’t hear anything in return. All the lights in the apartment were turned off. From muscle memory, she walked into the dark living room and turned off the music then locked the front door. Her next stop was Sophie’s room. 

She quietly opened up the door and sat on Sophie’s bed. From the glow of the bathroom light, she could see her face was into her pillow, and the comforter was covering her entire head with only her hair visible. Willow bent down and moved the covers enough just to kiss Sophie’s head. Jeez, Willow thought. Sophie was freezing. Willow walked to Sophie's window and closed it, shaking her head that it was opened with the heater running. She grabbed a throw blanket and laid it on top of her roommate. “Love you, Sophie,” Willow whispered. She left the room, closing the door behind her and went to turn off the bathroom light. 

She stepped into the darkness of her own room now. Full of exhaustion, she crawled into bed. She closed her eyes and flipped on her side. Her body felt it before her mind did, the familiar feeling overtaking her once again tonight. Someone is staring at me, she thought, but something felt different than before, it felt like someone was close to her, very close.  For the first time in her life, Willow felt pure panic. Her breathing became ragged as she reached out next to her under the covers. Her fingers met with something solid and foreign, something human, and then Willow heard the whisper, “I know you’re there.”