Two Bright Lights

There were two bright lights. Too bright. And it was dark. Too loud. Everything's too loud. Too much. Paranoia wraps around me like a blanket, suffocating me from fresh air. It's too hot. Anxiety sits heavily in my throat, only allowing me the smallest of breaths. It's not enough. I'm choking, trying desperately to free myself from the trap I am dying in.

A dam broke inside of me, crumbling, falling, and everything. Everything is quaking. I stumble over to the park bench just as my legs give out from under me. My lungs fight against my ribs, which feel tighter, smaller. My heart punches at my chest, seemingly attempting to escape from my body.

This is too much. I lay back and rest my head against the cold, metal seat, staring up to the stars and praying that it helps. My breathing begins to slow, but those lights are burned deep into my brain.

Headlights. A car had come straight at me, but nothing's there. I'm alone. It was at a different place. Near my apartment? Was it a vision? a hallucination? I had to be hallucinating. But I don't do drugs. My mom said she's kill me if she ever found out I'd let those bad things into my body.

My legs are still shaking and I don't feel strong enough to stand. My limbs aren't ready yet, I'm not ready. What I just saw, whatever it was, wasn't normal. I saw the corner store just outside my apartment building. I saw red, a flash of it. And I saw two headlights, getting bigger and bigger before everything went dark and I returned back here at the park.

The memory? The vision played in my mind over and over like a broken record as I watched gentle flakes of snow fall from the sky. A few flurries kissed my cheeks before melting away from existence. The coolness of the December night slowly returned to my body, a sudden chill shaking my spine from within my coat.

Nobody is around me. It's almost midnight. I look out to the city across the bridge before putting my faith into my legs to hold me up. A wave of exhaustion settles over me, something I didn't feel a few minutes ago.

My face is numb from the icy gusts of wind blowing through my hair. I want to be in my sweatpants and hoodie with a big, fluffy blanket overtop of me on my bed. This jacket isn't enough protection from the frozen air. I can't go to that street. That corner. The one by my home. That's where it happened. I know it was there. I can't go there, but I have nowhere else. Out here or in my heated apartment.

I take a trembly breath and make my way across the large bridge that connects the city, keeping a close eye on the vehicles zooming by. Red. Four red cars go by, none of them too close for comfort.

The corner store is visible after some time of walking and both relief and panic fester inside of me. I stop. Breathe. Exhale. Continue.

Hesitation lurks in the back of my mind, growing bigger the closer I come to the crossing My apartment is right there. I just need to walk the fifteen feet and I'll be okay. I stop at the edge. I'm doing this. Now. The light changes, and I hurry to the other side, jerking my head left and right in case of oncoming cars. I'm safe. My nerves go crazy, but I'm safe now. I trudged into the building and ride the elevator to the safety of my home.

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It's been almost a week since the hallucination in the park and nothing has happened. As each day passes by, my confidence increases and I become more sure that it was just my mind messing with me.

I cross the street normally again every morning to go to work and every evening after my shift is over. Nothing has happened. And nothing will happen. I walk down the sidewalk with the crowd. The sky is already a navy blue abyss and snow flurries are falling. I try to rush ahead of the mass of people to get home faster, but it doesn't work and each person steps in my way.

Tonight is special. Tonya, my best friend since high school, is visiting for the holidays. I haven't seen her since Thanksgiving two years ago at her family's place in Maine.

The neon sign of the corner store comes into view and just beyond it is my window. I can't help but smile. Excitement shoots through my legs and I quicken my pace, unable to stop myself.

Almost there. I'm at the edge of the street. The light turns. Almost there. I cross the road I was petrified of only days earlier. Almost there. Me and the rest of the group step into the sidewalk, successfully making it across.

Inside the building, I press the light up button and stride into the elevator, awaiting my arrival to third floor. A gust of warm air hits me as I enter my place. Tonya should be here in three hours, and dinner will be ready by then. So will the Christmas cookies.

>>>>>>> <<<<<<<

The pot of water boiled violently, alerting me of its readiness. A cookie sheet sat out on the island as I gathered all of the baking ingredients. Eggs. Flour. No milk. I search through each shelf in case I accidently skipped over it. Still no milk.

With a sigh of frustration, I yank the fridge door shut and turn of the stove to calm the viciously bubbling pot. I hang the apron, which I had tied carefully around my waist, back up on the pantry door and glance at the clock. 8:37. An hour until she comes up and knocks on my door.

Outside my window I see the empty 24-hour corner store down below. I roll my eyes. It'll only be a minute, but still. My sneakers squeak as I slip them on and grab my hoodie. Instead of the elevator, I take the stairs. It'll be faster that way.

The sidewalks aren't as busy as they were a couple of hours ago. Only a few people were out now and the snow flurries have become bigger flakes. The countdown machine about me beeps constantly and my patience begins to wear thin. I won't have dinner ready in time.

A boy passes me. "Hey," I say. His attention remains glued to his phone and I realize he has earbuds in.

"Hey," I call louder. He doesn't hear me. The boy walks into the street completely unaware of what he was doing.

A loud engine sound revs from around the corner store and screeches against the asphalt as it turns.

"Hey!" I scream. Suddenly everything moves a hundred times slower. I force my legs into motion and sprint into the street after him. The beeping sound echoes in the background. The tires shriek. Too loud. I hear the blood pumping in my ears. It's too loud. My hands reach his back. I shove with all of the strength I have in me.

The boy falls forward, revealing a flash of his scarlet shirt. Too much the lights. I see the two lights getting bigger. Brighter. Too bright. It moves closer and closer. Everything goes black.