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The Letter in the Alley.

09 Oct

I got this Prompt from Writer’s Digest! Check it out: http://www.writersdigest.com/prompts/the-letter-in-the-alley

 

 

Bzz.. Bzz.. Bzz.. Bzz.. Bzz..

I open one eye, then shut it quickly. The sun is beaming right through my window and into my eyes. I flop my hand around beside me searching for the snooze button on my alarm clock. As I go to move my hand back to me, I knock off a glass of water that was also on my nightstand. Damn. I let out a deep sigh, and sluggishly pull myself from my nest. My head is pounding, I feel nauseous, and I’m dizzy. As I sit on the edge of my bed, I open the drawer and grab the bottle of Advil that laid inside. I look inside the bottle only to find one left. No good, I need at least three for it to be effective. Four to even temporarily remove this hangover headache. I drank way too much last night. As I lean over to grab the cup, I notice a piece of paper folded up and laying inconspicuously on the ground next to my jeans and half under the bed. I picked up the glass and the piece of paper, set the glass back on the nightstand and started wiping off the water that was soaked into the paper.

When I open the note , a chill crawls up my spine. My heart starts to race a little, and I think I might get sick. I put the note down and scurry to the bathroom, half awake and drowsy. I slide down beside the toilet and lift up the seat, lean over, and heave out my guts. Not literally, but that’s what it feels like. After I’m done I grab a dirty towel laying next to me, and wipe my mouth off. I lean against the wall and take a deep breath, trying to be sure I’m completely done before trying to get up. This sucks. After I’m sure I’m done I stand up and go to wash my face at the sink. Yet I don’t think about the pounding headache I have, or the nauseous feeling in my stomach. I stare at myself for a long minute in the mirror. What happened last night? Usually this is normal for me. Go to work, come home, go to the bar, etc. etc. But usually I come home with phone numbers rather than a note like the one I just read. But when did I get it? I don’t remember much, I was pretty wasted last night. I sway over to my bed and sit back down on it, looking at the wet piece of paper laying in my hands. The ink is smeared but still thick enough to read. 5756 Trike Ave. Apt 7C. 

I know where this is. Well, the apartment building anyways, but I’ve never been inside. I pass it on my way to and from the bus stop every day. That’s it. The ally behind the gas station. I remember picking it up, but not much else. I shake my head and rub my eyes. It’s probably just some trash that fell out of the dumpster. I grab the empty glass and head to the kitchen to fill it up, pretty much ignoring the mysterious piece of paper. I take a couple of swigs then dump the rest back into the sink. I need to get more Advil. I can’t stand this headache. I take a shower and clean myself up. I stand in the mirror and wonder if I should cut the whiskers off my face or not. Nah. Not today. I grab my apartment keys, and head to the bus station.

As I cross the street and turn around the corner just a minutes walk from my house, I see it. Trike Ave. Curiosity fills me. I look at the bus stop that’s across the street in front of the gas station then back at the road sign. Then to the bus pulling up to the bus stop. I’ll never make it. It’s a good distance away. I walk down Triker Ave. to the building that was mentioned in the note. The building is old. All made out of brick and concrete. Some of the windows are busted out and boarded up. This building has to be at least fifty years or older. I walk up the cracked stairs, and go inside. There are mailboxes to my left hanging on the wall, and stiars infront of me leading up and leading down. I have 45 minutes until the next bus comes, I got some time to kill. I start going up the stairs and walk through the door on the first floor. I look at the numbers on the doors, One reads 2B. Must be up higher. I walk back out the door and continue up the stairs, and go through the door on the top of the stairs. 1C, 3C, 5C, Ahh. Here it is. 7C. I look around me, the walls have holes in them, and the wallpaper is pealing off. 

Knock Knock Knock

I hear a small noise, then it progressively gets louder as the door the opens.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I proclaimed as shock encased my body.

 

 

 

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Posted by on October 9, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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