Warning Signs

“Don’t do it.”

The words were barely a mumble behind me. I ignored the voice and kept my head down. The subway was packed today. I thought I was used to the ebb and flow of subway traffic but today felt thicker. It was almost suffocating. I wonder if you ever get used to the feeling of being constantly bumped into by strangers. Perhaps you just learn to look intimidating? Though I was curious, I didn’t want to draw attention, so I went back to my book.

“Don’t do it…” the voice hissed.

I spun around immediately, but no one was facing me. An elderly man in a black top hat leered at me and grinned. I turned away as quickly as I could. I didn’t know anyone on this subway car, nor did any of my friends take this route. Normally I wouldn’t even be here.

Two days ago, I received a letter that an aunt of mine had died. I barely knew her, but the letter claimed that she had fond memories of me. Fond enough that she had left me something in her will. Whatever it was, it was important enough that I had been called down to her lawyer’s office. The address was across town, in a far ritzier neighborhood than I could ever dream of affording. Maybe this meeting would change that…

No. I promised myself I wouldn’t try to guess what it was. Especially because this aunt was a bit of a loose cannon. All I remembered about her was her creepy doll collection. I hated those dolls. They haunted my nightmares for years. It didn’t help that she treated them as if they were alive. Speaking with them, combing their hair, changing their clothes, tucking them into bed at night, etc. She asked me to help her once, and because I was concerned about her mental well-being, I pretended to enjoy spending time with her and the dolls. Perhaps that was why she left me something in the will. My stomach dropped at the thought. Hopefully she had other memories of me besides that day.

I checked the maps app on my phone again. We were almost at my stop. I stepped closer to the doors, feeling the normal anxiety well up as I checked the signs. I’ve been living in the city for nearly a year now, you’d think it would be second nature by this point. Still, I found myself double and triple checking every stop, looking for familiar landmarks, and praying that I had stepped on the right car.

As I stepped off, someone pushed into me, hard enough to get my attention.

“Don’t do it,” I heard again, but he was gone before I could see his face.

I tried to catch the mysterious stranger, but he vanished into the crush of people. Instead, I turned and headed up the steps. Seeing the sky usually cleared my mind. Maybe it would be enough to shake the worry of someone whispering in my ear.

After nearly tripping on the stairs to the surface, I found myself in a gorgeous section of the city. Manicured bushes, well-dressed people, shops with signs that hadn’t been hand-painted; it was lovely. Clearly, I needed to get out more. Checking the maps app again, I found I was only a ten-minute walk from the office.

I began my journey forward but felt as though something was pulling me back. My legs felt heavier than they had this morning. My belt was too tight. My necklaces kept tangling, tugging at my hair and neck.

“Don’t do it,” came a voice to my right.

I jumped, spooked by the familiar words. They were spoken by a woman this time. An elderly woman in a black sweatsuit, currently powerwalking away from me. I stood, bewildered. Should I chase after her? I wondered. I had left myself plenty of time for the appointment, but I had been looking forward to arriving early. I was a chronically late person, but I felt that showing up late to a will reading would be a bad omen. Proof that I was incapable of owning whatever was being given to me.

I decided against the chase. If I was imagining things, I would be crazy and late to the lawyer’s office. Two wrongs certainly didn’t make a right in this scenario.

I looked down again at my phone. I needed to make a right at the next street, then it would only be a couple blocks away. I put my phone away, but I still couldn’t shake that heavy feeling. Each step was like wading through knee-high water. Not difficult, but not right. Get out of your head, I told myself. I could rest in the office.

I looked up to find a man staring at me. I quickly looked away, hoping it had been an odd moment of eye contact. When I looked back, his gaze was still fixed on me. He was well-dressed in a light gray suit with a black tie. He was standing next to the shrubbery outside an apartment building, while his dog appeared to be relieving itself. He didn’t move, but he never took his eyes off me, even when his dog started barking. I tried to walk faster, but the sluggish feeling still had its grip on my legs, and it was getting worse. As I crossed the street, I heard it again.

“Don’t do it.”

It came from a child this time. A child in a little black jumper, holding her mother’s hand tight as they walked away. The child stared even while walking, her sharp little eyes boring holes through me. I turned around and found myself face to face with the man in the gray suit.

“Don’t do it,” he hissed, then walked away.

“What do you mean?!” I screamed after him, but he didn’t turn around. I stood there in shock. What was going on? How had he gotten ahead of me without my noticing?

I turned and surged on. I was only a block away from the building. Once I was inside, I could try to figure out what was happening. No good would come from breaking down in the middle of the sidewalk. My heart rate had just started to slow when it came again.

“Don’t do it,” crooned the musician on the corner, strumming a black guitar.

Eyes wide, I picked up the pace.

“Don’t do it!” yelled a construction worker in a black hard hat.

“Don’t do it,” a frail man coughed as he walked by, smoke escaping his struggling lungs.

I started to run. I could see the sign of the office; sunlight glinting off the large gold letters. It appeared all eyes were on me, something I had never felt in this city. The voices didn’t stop and only seemed to get louder the closer I got to the building. The blood rushing in my ears did little to drown them out. My fear grew louder with their chanting, only subsiding when my hand was on the door. Until a strong hand grabbed my arm.

“Don’t do it,” said the woman in the sweatsuit.

“Let go of me!” I screamed, but her grip was too strong. I looked back to see a crowd behind me, all the people that had spoken and several other strangers. They stared, slowly walking closer. No one else seemed to notice. Everyone on the other side of the street went along as usual, without so much as a glance at the growing throng around me.

I yanked as hard as I could, finally freeing my arm from her vise-grip. I reached forward, ripping the door open, and threw myself inside.

Everything turned black.