Ch 4 - Somebody's Watching Me

I always feel that somebody's watchin' me
And I have no privacy
I always feel that somebody's watchin' me
Tell me is it just a dream?

“Somebody’s Watching Me” – Michael Jackson

It was dark and foggy. I could hear faint giggling in the background—a girl’s voice. I squinted in the darkness to try to make sense of things, but everything was blurry. The giggling grew louder, turning into full-blown laughter. I turned around; trying to find he source, but everything was so cloudy. The voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it.

The laughter morphed into hysterics and the girl started screaming. Piercing screams rang through my ears, causing me to wince. I started coughing and realized at some point the fog had turned into a thick smoke.

The screams grew louder, combined with crying. I turned to run, frightened. I couldn’t make sense of things, I had no idea what was going on, but I couldn’t escape. I was trapped, stuck in place. The smoke in the air started combining with the thickness of a sickening stench. I couldn’t breathe, I was gasping for air. Pain was radiating up and down my spine and I tried to scream but no sounds would escape besides gasping coughs. The screaming in the background had silenced finally. The fogginess was turning into blackness, the blurry shapes disappearing into nothing. Right before everything disappeared, leaving me with nothing but searing pain, I felt myself being jolted harshly.

I jumped up in bed, screaming. Sweat was covering my body and soaking my sheets. I looked around quickly to assess the situation and my screams stopped. It wasn’t real. It was just another nightmare.

I sat for a moment, trying to compose myself. It was a nightmare I was used to, as it came often. It wasn’t rare for me to wake up screaming from the fog and blackness.

The phone beside my bed rang. I picked it up with trembling hands and fumbled for the on button.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Isabella, it’s Margaret.”

“Hey Margaret, how can I help you?”

“I hate to do this to you dear, as I know it’s your day off and you always work first shift, but our night person is sick and we need someone to cover from 4 until closing tonight. Do you think you could do that?”

“Uh, sure. No problem,” I said. I smiled… I had been worried about what I was going to do to pass the time today, especially after the nightmare had left me shaken. The last thing I needed was to spend time alone in my apartment.

“Thank you dear, I’ll see you at 4 o’clock.”

I jumped out of bed and threw on a pair of gray sweat pants and a white tank top. I found a pair of white Reebok’s and slid them on, tying them tightly. I threw my hair back in a ponytail and grabbed a bottle of water from my fridge.

I was still extraordinarily clumsy. I still had a habit of tripping on flat surfaces and falling for no reason what so ever. But the past few months, by the urging of the doctors, I started running. Running helped beat back my demons; it cleared my mind, cleansed me of the things that weighed me down.

Whenever I had that nightmare, I’d run. I’d run until I couldn’t breathe, until every ounce of my body screamed from the agony. I ran until every muscle burned and I didn’t stop until I couldn’t bear to take another step. In the hospital, running consisted of doing laps on a rubber track inside their recreation room. But now that I was out, I had an entire city in front of me. I could run with the gravel beneath my feet and the sun on my face.

I exited my apartment building and turned on my IPOD. Denise had given it to me… I knew social workers didn’t make a habit out of giving gifts to their clients, but she assured me it was legal for her to do because it was a hand-me-down. She had coincidentally decided it was time to buy a new IPOD for herself at the same time she declared that I needed one.

I didn’t question Denise’s motives with me, but I knew she treated me differently than others. She was a single woman in her mid-40’s, around my height and weight. She had long dirty blonde hair and green eyes, the bridge of her nose and cheeks dotted with freckles. She was obviously pretty and the type of woman I knew Charlie would love. I briefly entertained the idea of her and Charlie getting together but pushed the thoughts away. I was in no position to be meddling in Charlie’s life. I didn’t even know if I’d ever see Charlie again, frankly.

Denise told me that she had been married once and they had a daughter together, but that both her husband and child died. I didn’t question how they passed away, because I wasn’t sure it was a story I’d want to hear. But I often wondered if maybe I reminded her of the daughter she lost, as she would’ve been my age now, and if that’s why she always went the extra mile for me.

I turned the IPOD to my running play list and secured the ear buds in my ear. I did a few stretches to the song “Bittersweet Symphony” by The Verve… when the song ended and “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers came on, I started running.

I lost all sense of time when I ran. I let go of everything and simply focused on the air blowing in my face, the sun against my skin, and the adrenaline coursing through my body. Each song blurred into the next, the tempo’s increasing and forcing me to push harder. When my muscles started really burning and I felt my legs wanting to hesitate, I turned around and started back in the direction of the apartment.

When I got within a mile of home, I slowed to a walk to allow my body time to cool down. I moseyed into my building and up to my apartment, kicking my shoes off the moment I stepped foot inside the door. I headed straight for the bathroom and turned on the faucets to run a cool bath. While the tub filled up, I turned to the body length mirror nailed to the back of the bathroom door.

I was soaked with sweat, my hair falling out of my small ponytail and little pieces sporadically sticking up everywhere. My hair was significantly shorter than I’d ever kept it before; it barely reached my shoulders these days. My skin was bright pink, whether from the heat of the run or the sun itself I wasn’t sure. I mentally kicked myself for forgetting sunscreen… it wasn’t often we got bright sunny days here in Washington, so sunscreen was never on the front of my mind. I hoped the pink would dull when my body finally cooled down and that I wasn’t heading for a sunburn.

I slipped my shirt and pants off, throwing them to the floor. I looked over my body in the mirror; I was wearing a plain white sports bra and some white cotton briefs. Nothing special about either, but then again there wasn’t much special about the body they were on.

I was thin… not as small as I had once been but still thinner than usual. I thankfully had gained back a few subtle curves so my body wasn’t completely bland. But still, it was nothing to brag about. I was still gazing at plain ol’ Isabella Marie Swan in the mirror. I was grateful I wasn’t able to see the back of me and shuddered at the thought of what I’d find if I could.

I slipped my bra and panties off and climbed into the tub. The cool water soothed my skin, relaxing me immediately. I lay in the tub with my head tilted back and my eyes closed, simply enjoying the silence. The apartment was completely silent, the only sound that could be heard the water splashing as I moved around.

After the water chilled even more and I started shivering, I begrudgingly got out and wrapped a towel around myself. I walked out into the living room and stopped abruptly. The front door of the apartment was ajar slightly. I glanced around instinctively, looking for anything disrupted or signs of danger, before mentally chastising myself. I’d come in so exhausted from my run that I must not have closed it the whole way.

I latched the door, locking it for good measure. I plopped down on my couch still in my towel and grabbed a book to read.

At some point I must’ve drifted off to sleep because I jumped up abruptly, startled. I scanned the room quickly, confused as I came back to consciousness. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up and I had goose bumps on my arms. The front door was still locked and nothing was out of place--nothing to explain my sudden reaction. I took a few deep breaths, willing my nerves to calm and my heart to slow down. I told myself I must’ve been dreaming and woke up with that response because of a phantom dream I had. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

I glanced at the clock and noticed it was a few minutes after 3pm. I got up and headed into my bedroom, scanning my closet. I purchased some new clothes since getting my first paycheck so my wardrobe was more suitable for work. I pulled out a black pencil skirt and a long sleeved royal blue top that buttoned up the front and fit snugly around the chest. I slipped on some sheer black hose and slid on a pair of plain black 2-inch heels to match. It wasn’t completely fashionable, but frankly it was the best I would be able to conjure up. It worked.

I strolled to the library, enjoying the walk. My thighs were still burning from my run that morning so I took my time.

Margaret greeted me when I arrived, informing me that since it was a Tuesday night it would likely be very slow. She warned me that I probably wouldn’t have too much to do and told me to take advantage of the down time. She said she’d be leaving shortly, leaving me and one librarian to hold down fort all night long.

I did a few random jobs to pass the time. I redecorated the bulletin board in the children’s section, put back whichever books need to be shelved, and ran off copies they’d need for upcoming meetings and activities.

At around 8pm, I ran out of busy work. It was still an hour until closing time. The library was deserted, except for two college aged kids sitting at a table together with books sprawled out in front of them, typing furiously on laptops. I watched them for a while, surprisingly fascinated and a bit jealous. They had UW shirts on. I had applied to UW before everything happened… I wondered if I got in. I wondered if Charlie had opened any of my acceptance letters and read them. Would he have kept them? I figured most likely he would’ve shredded them, or burned them, probably without even opening them. All I knew was that they never got forwarded to me. Charlie never forwarded any of my mail.

I sighed and turned away from the college students. The librarian was kicked back with a book in front of her, ear buds in her ear. I took that as a sign—time to relax.

I headed for the elevator and up to the 3rd floor. Not many people visited the floor, as it contained most of the older works that the average person had no desire to look through. I hadn’t been up there before and wanted to explore. I walked slowly through the shelves, noticing old tax books and outdated textbooks. I pulled a few books off shelves, glancing through them to pass the time.

I pulled out an old history book off the shelf. I was reading through some of the pages, amused by some of the language they used in the early 1900’s and their deciphering of some events. I flipped toward the back of the book and immediately spotted an unmistakable image. It was a drawing of a typical Hollywood-esque vampire, complete with fangs and cape. The section was about how to protect yourself from them, describing wooden stakes and garlic. I read the paragraph under the picture that advised you that you were safe from vampires as long as you didn’t invite them into your home, as they weren’t allowed to enter without permission.

I snorted loudly; laughing at the absurdity… a vampire had visited my bedroom countless nights without my knowledge, much less my permission.

I heard a noise behind me, causing my laughter to cease immediately. It startled me and the book slipped from my hands and hit the floor with a thump.

“Hello?” I called cautiously. My heart was racing wildly. I knew I hadn’t imagined the noise; it was too loud to have been a mistake. It sounded like something being shuffled… like a book being taken from a shelf.

No one answered. I quickly picked up the book I had been reading and placed it in its spot. I cautiously peered around the corner of the aisle, looking for any signs of life. I started walked down the aisles slowly, looking around for anything out of place. Everything looked as it had when I came up. I couldn’t shake the fear that was coursing through me so I darted for the elevator quickly.

I tried to compose myself on the elevator ride down. When I hit the first floor again, I noticed the UW students were still working vigilantly and the librarian was still kicked back. The clock said it was 8:45, indicating we only had 15 more minutes until closing time.

I walked towards the librarian and she smiled when she spotted me. “Did you explore?” she asked.

“Yeah, I ventured up to the third floor,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are those the only two people here?” I asked, pointing at the students.

She nodded. “There hasn’t been anyone else for over an hour and they haven’t moved an inch, much less needed any help. Pretty boring night.” She glanced at her watch, noticing the time. “You can go ahead and go Isabella, I don’t foresee anything exciting happening in the next few minutes. I’ll shuffle the last two out and close up.”

I thanked her and gathered my stuff, heading out the front door. It was dark out and chilly. I pulled my jacket on and started walking in the direction of the apartment.

The panic that had overtaken me at the library was still somewhat present and I was on edge during the walk. Every sound made me jumpy, every shadow causing my heart to race wildly. I kept glancing behind me, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. I tried to convince myself I was being ridiculous but a voice in the back of my head was screaming to me that I was being followed.

As soon as my building was in sight, I started running. I swung the front door open and flew up the stairs to my apartment. I slid inside and locked the door behind me.

I put on some mellow music to try to calm myself down, but it did little to help. I lay down in bed and tossed and turned for hours before finally giving up and heading into the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out my bottle of Ambien. I popped one in my mouth, washing it down with a glass of water. I’d tried to wean myself off of the sleeping pills and had been pretty successful, but I knew I’d get no sleep tonight without assistance.