Evicted

**Contains sensitive content: substance abuse, physical violence**

LJ descended from the top floor of 31 Gilliam St. to get rent from everyone below. Today he was in a rush. He needed to collect before they came.

He'd been given control of the twelve apartments within—ten livable—by the “friends” he ran with. The deal was he could keep half of the money, so LJ didn’t miss a dime.

The hallway reeked of stale cigarettes. LJ stepped over an empty beer can and knocked on unit 204. It was home to an ailing woman, Ira, and her son.

“Rent.”

Ira’s voice shouted something inaudible. The door opened.

“What's happening, Sam? Got the rent?”

“Yeah… Mom’s got it” Sam said.

LJ allowed himself in, brushing past Sam. Ira limped through the cluttered kitchen, searching.

“Ah, hey there LJ. Have a seat. I'm just getting the money.” She said.

LJ did not take a seat. He stood and watched Ira panic to grab every bill she could find.

“There an issue?”

“No! No issue. Everything’s just… all over the place.” She feigned laughter.

“How much you got?”

She stopped her rummaging. “Six-fifty.”

“Six-fifty?”

Silence.

“Oh. There's trouble finding fifty more, huh?” LJ paced the floor.

“You know, all I ask is seven-hundred. Seven hundred dollars to keep the lights on, the water going—”

Sam snorted.

“The fuck you on about, Sam?”

Sam’s shoulders stiffened against the wall. LJ took slow, deliberate steps towards him. Ira reached out her hand but lost her words.

“I think you got a short memory, Sammy. Tell me, where was it y’all lived after your daddy died?”

Sam's eyes dipped, “...nowhere”

“Uh huh. And that's exactly where y’all are going to end up unless we find fifty quick.”

“Wait LJ…” Ira pulled off her wedding ring, “It’s gold, it should be worth fifty easy.”

“Momma, no—”

Ira glared at Sam. “Next time, we’ll have it all in cash.”

She held out the ring with her wrinkles, shaking fingers. LJ eyed it, paused, then snatched it from her hand.

Every tenant paid up well before the afternoon, leaving LJ plenty of time to prepare. He had Smooth and Chris come over with some gear: pistols for the three of them, ammo, two-by-fours, nails, a hammer, flashlights, water bottles, and some microwavable meals.

They came just after three in the afternoon and got to work. He had Smooth clear the floors, putting anything loose into garbage bags. Chris nailed the wood over the windows: one in the living room, one in the kitchen, and the last one in the bedroom. LJ “supervised,” hustling the other two around.

They wrapped up at four. Chris and Smooth took seats on the couch while LJ inspected everything one more time.

“Mind if I smoke up?” Smooth gestured to the boarded up windows like he was concerned about ventilation all of a sudden.

“Whatever, just no weed. We gotta be sharp the rest of the night.” LJ tugged on the wood boarding up the living room window. He hoped it would hold back any late night guests.

“So, what's happening?” Chris said. “Why we locking ourselves in, man? We could just chill at my cousin's or something if you in trouble.”

“It’s not like that. Last month, at the end of the month, these two that used to live here…” LJ hesitated. They wouldn't believe him yet.

”Just wait until tonight and keep your eyes open.”

Chris and Smooth gave each other a glance. Something was up, but no one would doubt LJ, not even for a minute.

They sat in silence for hours. LJ stared at his gold watch as the seconds between nine twenty-nine and nine thirty ticked away. It was just about to start.

Everything was still. The anticipation was killing him. He crossed his arms and looked around the corner of the living room.

Then there was a thud in the bedroom.

“There!” LJ raced and threw open the closet. He saw some shoes had fallen.

“Damn, man, you had me dialled up!” Smooth had his pistol out with Chris behind him.

“This is what happened last time. Stuff starts dropping then they show up.”

Smooth looked at Chris again.

“I ain't crazy! Stay sharp!”

Chris scratched the back of his head and nodded. If LJ wanted them to sit tight then that’s what they’d do. They sat back down on the couch.

“So, what happened to your TV man?” Smooth pointed at the empty wall across from him.

LJ didn't answer.

A burst came from the kitchen. All three ran to see, pistols ready. The cutlery drawer exploded, and spewed knives and forks all over the floor. Then a cupboard burst open. Plates flew across the room, smashing against the fridge and stove.

“What the fuck!” Smooth shot two rounds at the cupboard before LJ stopped him.

“You don't get to do this to me again!” LJ shouted into the empty kitchen. “However you're doing this, I'm going to find out. I ain't afraid of you all. I'll find you and end this!”

He put his hand on Smooth’s shoulder, “Keep your rounds for later. This is nothing.”

Smooth was shaking, “Huh. Yeah. Okay.” He holstered the pistol in his trousers. “Alright LJ, I believe you now…”

They left the kitchen and regrouped in the living room. LJ finally took a seat in his chair. They expected another burst any second. LJ’s eyes darted all around. Only Chris seemed to keep his cool, but even he kept his gun out.

Smooth brought out another cigarette. “You said there’s two people… who used to live here?”

LJ remained silent and stared. There, right between Chris and Smooth on the couch, was a man. The man. His skin was tinged with green and covered in bruises. His expression was empty and he sat perfectly upright. He side eyed LJ with wide eyes. With a blink, he was gone.

“You alright?” Chris said.

LJ tried to brush it off. “Yeah. I'm good. I think it's those two… from 201.”

“Like, from two months ago? Man, they gotta be dead—”

A shriek rang through the apartment, cutting off Smooth. It was long and painful. A woman's scream. The woman's scream.

“Jesus…” Chris got up and looked around. When he looked in the kitchen he froze. A second passed, and he slowly sat back down.

LJ knew what he saw, “A woman right?”

Chris nodded.

“They’re just trying to scare us. This shit is just some movie magic or something. You'll see them more and more. Just wait. When they show themselves we shoot them.”

And so they waited.

LJ stared at the smoke coming from Smooth’s cigarette. His mind drifted to that night two months ago. The three of them went to collect on unit 201. They crept up to the door and heard them talking inside.

“Can you feel her kick?”

“Nah… wait! Yeah, that's wild. Ha, there she goes again.”

They start singing, “Lullaby, and goodnight, go to sleep little baby…”

LJ had an extra key. He entered with Smooth and Chris behind him.

“201, we're here to collect.”

“LJ! Man, you can't just come in here—”

“I can and will. We leave once we get what we're owed.”

“I told you I need more time for the last bit. I gave you six-hundred to show I was good for it.”

“Six ain't seven though. So if you don't have one hundred more then you have to go. We'll even do you a favor and help you move…” LJ nods to Chris who heads to the kitchen, takes out a drawer, and throws the contents to the floor.

The woman pleads, “Just one more week LJ– we got money coming. It's more than one-hundred dollars so you'll get it. Just gotta be patient.”

“Bitch I've been more than patient waiting all damn day! There's more than enough people out there that will pay me seven-hundred every time.” Smooth picks up a TV and throws it out of the front door. It smashed against the stained carpet in the hallway, leaving glass and plastic everywhere.

LJ advances, “If I go easy on you then everyone is going to start just paying six-hundred and making excuses.”

The woman was livid, “You goddamn animal! You barely keep the lights on as it is! You'd throw a pregnant woman out on to the street?” Tears came down, the man held her shoulders as Chris stripped the place and Smooth laughed.

“Shit’s tough. How'd I know if you didn't blow the money on something stupid: a new TV, shoes, drugs, or whatever?”

Chris came out of the bedroom pushing a worn out crib.

“No!” The woman screamed. The man chased after her trying to hold her back. “Don't touch that! Don't you ever touch that!” She grabbed a butter knife from the kitchen floor and went after Chris.

LJ pulled out his pistol, “Get back! Drop it! Man, get a handle on this bitch!”

“I'm not some bitch you monster! What are you going to do? Shoot me? You'd shoot a pregnant woman?”

The man stepped between her and the gun. “Everyone chill out! We'll move out LJ, we'll grab everything and go, we'll just go.”

But the woman was too hurt, too angry. “Get off of my crib you goddamn—” tears flew.

Chris ignored her and pushed the crib again. The woman pushed back from the other side. There was yelling. The woman went at Chris again with the butter knife. The man shouted.

LJ fired.

The daydream ended with faint whispers in the air. Animals. Monsters.

“You hear that? Is that her?” Smooth stood up. LJ looked at his watch and saw it was almost eleven at night.

“Boys, get ready.” They all pointed their guns into empty space in anticipation.

Smooth was shaking, “It's that woman isn't it? That pregnant one you—”

“Shut up and listen!” LJ said.

Everything began creaking at once. The bed moved on its own, as did the dresser and nightstand. The couch, the chair, the fridge, the stove, everything inched towards the boarded up apartment door.

Smooth panicked. “Oh hell no! I'm out, this is too crazy.” He ran for the door, and shot at the wood.

“Smooth! Chill! Shoot when they show themselves!”

Smooth shot wildly and tore at the planks. The lights went out. LJ was ready with a flashlight. All movement stopped in the darkness.

He checked the kitchen. Everything was on the floor and in disarray. He moved the flashlight beam slowly.

The dead face of the man came from behind the tilted fridge and LJ fired. In the flash of the muzzle the man changed into the woman. She stood with a hole in her head.

“You got what was coming to you.” LJ grit his teeth. “Get the hell out.”

But the woman didn't move. The lights flickered on and she transformed into Smooth. His eyes were open and his mouth was agape. He had a hole in his head. He crumpled down into a bloody mess.

“Smooth! Dammit! Smooth!” LJ ran to the body. “Jesus, what did he do? He did nothing to you!”

Chris eyed up LJ, gun ready. LJ saw the look—did he think he killed Smooth? Or were they playing tricks?

The apartment came alive again. The door swung open, breaking the planks holding it back. The fridge and stove twisted and inched towards the door. The couch creaked and broke as it was forced through the door at the same time as the chair. A hundred items: forks, spare batteries, scissors, and a TV remote all flung themselves around.

One by one everything in the apartment shot out of the door.

“You can throw it out but I'll just bring it back in. This place is mine! Your place was mine.” He saw his shoebox of cash make its way off of the floor and get stuck behind the fridge.

“Oh I get it now! I figured you all out.” He picked up the box. The movement stopped at once.

“Is this it?” He tore open the box and brandished $600. “Is this what you want? The money I was owed? Here!” He threw each bill in the air one by one.

“But you know what? This ain't worth the trouble. Here you go! Spend it!”

Chris kept his eyes on LJ but calmed down as the rattling stopped.

“Ha ha, I got you figured now.” He threw the remaining money out of the front door, aiming it between the fridge and the nightstand that had been fighting their way through.

“It always is about money isn't it? Even when people die it's all about money.”

But the movement began again, twice as furious as before. The bills flew around and caught on fire. They singed LJ and Chris. In a minute everything in LJ’s apartment had thrown itself outside of the door.

Then a scraping sound came from down the hallway. Chris and LJ stared at each other, waiting. The scraping stopped in front of the open door. It was the couple pushing their prized possession: the worn out crib.

“Shoot them!” Both LJ and Chris emptied their guns on the open doorway. There was no effect. The couple stood behind their crib with their sickly skin and bullet holes staring straight at LJ.

They pushed the crib. LJ pushed back, but to no avail. They’re strength was unmatchable and, bit by bit, they made their way through the door.

“Push ‘em back Chris!” Chris got his wits and went for the woman, hitting her in the head with his empty pistol. The woman spoke:

“You would shoot a pregnant woman?” Her voice garbled like she was speaking under water and hissed like air through a hole. She grabbed Chris by the neck and he screamed.

LJ fought against the crib, but couldn't make it budge against the man. He was almost against the wall now, almost crushed.

“It was never yours! You couldn't pay! Shit's tough out here. You think I never been thrown out? You think I never had no money?” He pushed again, spurred by anger. “You just gotta figure it out. Survival of the fittest. That's on you and what you chose. You wanted a kid. You wanted a place you couldn't afford. That's not my problem.”

The man turned the crib, aiming it for the bedroom. LJ didn't let go, he couldn't. This was his place, and no one else could have it. The woman came back. Chris was nowhere to be seen. The couple brought the crib into the bedroom until it rested in the center.

Then they grabbed LJ on each arm and dragged him out.

“You can't kill me! You couldn't do it last time and you can't do it this time!”

They launched him out of the door and slammed it shut. LJ had been tossed, like everything else in his apartment, into the hallway. He picked himself up and banged on the door.

“You can't—” He choked on his words. “You can't kick me out. I own this place! I own this!”

He saw his watch. It was almost midnight. He let out a breath. He knew what came next: the lullaby.

“Lullaby, and goodnight, go to sleep little baby…”

The couple sang with their horrid, dead voices. It was over. At midnight they'd leave and he'd have to put everything back like he did last month.

LJ fought hard, but he knew they would be back. Every month. Every time the rent was due. They would be back…