The Darkness

To Andrea Clements, waking up for work was not what she dreaded most. She dreaded lying in her soft feather bed, the starch sheets rubbing against her bare skin. She feared the darkness surrounding her, the uncanny noises above.

Her heart thumped loudly against her chest, and her scared eyes darted around the dark room. She jolted straight up in her bed, her hearing acute - she heard footsteps she did not recognize. Feeling out with her hands she touched her lamp... No, she thought; if she turned on the light they would know she was awake.

Andrea crouching by her bed now, she felt the underside of her bed, drawing out a sleek shiny firearm. The shiny surface was clean, and the chamber was loaded with a full round. Running it through her hands, she changed her mind and put the handgun back. After pulling her arm back, she straightened out and stood straight up. She looked at the door with quizzical eyes, the footsteps still rang in her mind. But, the footsteps stopped as she headed towards the door. She placed a pale, frail hand on the door, then paused.

With a sudden jolt she wrenched the door open and flipped the light on in one quick motion. The room was instantly bathed in an overwhelming light. Even though Andrea's eyes took some time adjusting to the light, she did not blink. The room before her was revealed - every nook and cranny. Nobody was there. Andrea shook her head, her dark hair fell around her face.

The room before her included: a white washed kitchen, a small dark wood dining set, and a soft couch facing a flat screen TV. The stove clock was blinking, endlessly, showing 4:36AM...

Walking slowly and cautiously across the room she walked into the kitchen area, and switched on the coffee. Three cups, she thought, should be sufficient. There obviously was no point in returning to her bed. A shower, she thought optimistically, and some coffee should do well, and then off to work.

- - - - - - (passage of time)

Fully clothed and heavily coffeed she was out the door. Her slender frame was wrapped in an expensive red skirted suite. As it was quite tight fitting she walked quite like a wobble. Entering the public metro bus her black stiletto heels clacked against the plastic bottom. She selected a seat well away from a gruff looking homeless man. She hugged her fully leather brief case to her chest. She usually would have never carried anything leather, but her boss had given it to her has a raise (or something of the sort) present. People filtered in continuously at ever stop. As the bus filled Andrea became quite nervous. The man next to her seemed like a mean looking fellow, which made her sweat even more.

As her stop came, she pushed her mass of brown perfectly curled hair out of her face, and practically ran out of the metro bus. Jogging up the moving escalator she burst out into the morning sun. Taking in a lung full of fresh, but polluted air she felt quite revitalized.

Her tall, modern office building was only a quick block away, which was torment in high heels. As she looked up at the window-filled black building above her, which she knew as the building were she made a living. She quickly entered the automatic revolving door, and walked straight out the other side. She nodded to the lobby man and headed for the stairs - the elevator was way too risky in her eyes. Though the stairs created blood stains on her new shoes she ignored the pain. She easily scaled the three flights of stairs.

She nodded to the secretary she smiled as she walked to her box office. Sitting in her comfy, fluffy chair, she instantly got to work. She flicked on her computer, and as it started up she looked around. She was quite early, but a few other businessmen were there. As the computer login screen appeared with a beep, she went to work.

- - - - - -

Andrea finished her work late; she dreaded leaving in the dark. Perhaps she knew that she would have to leave eventually. As she got up to leave the office she heard the phone ring behind her, but she decided to ignore it. She was off duty now.

She walked through the automatic revolving door she noticed it was raining. She hated the cold, harsh liquid as it poured down from the heavens above. The ice cold sheets of rain, soaking through her clothing almost instantly. The coldness made her frightened and it made her shiver as she was soaked to the core, but fear. She raised her only defense against more insanely cold rain - her briefcase. Running through the darkness, her clothing clung to her like a hand that would never let go. Entering the brief overhang that included the escalator, she felt relieved as she made her way down the escalator.

When she reached the bottom, the metro car was sitting there with the door open - drawing her in. But, as she started walking towards it the doors started to close. As she saw this and it registered in her mind, she started to run. Now, Andrea had a particularly hard time running in high heels, and in anyone's case she was not very good at it nor did she enjoy it. Tripping every other step, she already was at a disadvantage, but then she stepped on a grate and instantly fell. Hitting the ground hard, she groaned and heard a snapping sound. Cursing darkly she drew herself up, and felt no injury. She watched in deep sadness as the train disappeared before her into the dark tunnel. As she trained her eyes away from the train she wondered what had snapped. Feeling no broken bones she drew her knees up at once finding what had caused the snapping notice. The heel of her left shoe had cleanly, and evenly snapped, but it was still hanging off by a bit of shoe fabric. When she got to her feet - quite unevenly in fact - she looked at the timer, the timer said twenty long minutes before another train would arrive. Her head hung in despair she wobbled - even more so now - to a nearby bench to wait.

- - - - - -

Arriving at her apartment door she slipped the bronze key into the lock and it evenly opened. As she opened the door, the alarm beeped once - showing that it was activated and she had come in, in an accepted way. Not caring to deactivate it she made sure the door was locked behind her and discarded her belongings near the foot of the couch. She crossed the room quickly and entered her room, almost instantly starting to undress. Throwing off her ruined shoes and soaked clothing. She happily threw them into a far corner of her room. Her first wish was to take a steaming shower to wash away all her muddied intentions. Her bathroom was through a door that was to the right of her bed.

Andrea now desperate turned the sliver knob of her shower to the hottest setting. In no time there was steam rising out of the top of the shower in sheets, filling the small room with an eerie mist. The mirror was moistened with a coating of condensation. The young woman stepped into the shower - legs first - and shivered with anticipation.

After her burning hot shower she popped in a microwave dinner, and sat at her TV. Wearing nothing, but a bathrobe and a towel as a turban. Just as the picture appeared on to the screen, the phone rang.

A shrill piercing ring, making the cleansed woman jump out of her seat. Walking, quite gracefully into the kitchen she received the phone. The caller id flashed:

RESTRICTED

She ignored it and returned to her show, phone at her side. Then the smell of organic spiced rice, and pulled pork wafted through the air.

- - - - - -

She was lying in bed by 2:48. The phone by her bed was silent, and her paintings flashed through her mind. She felt quite relaxed as her mind slid into a mental stillness. As she lay in mental relaxation, a noise broke her serenity. A slow dripping noise, echoing through her mind. Drip, drip…, water falling down, endlessly... Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She forced herself into a sitting position, her body almost moaned in protest. After awhile the dripping down, pouring into her senses forced her to walk to the bathroom, and switched the light on. Waiting quite impatiently for her eyes to adjust she walked over to the bathtub-shower combination, and slammed the facet down. The dripping ceased instantly, but the phone began to ring.

As she heard the shrill shaking noise her body jolted, and her hands shook. As she walked back to her bed, the bathroom dark behind her, she tried to calm herself. Calming a bit she reached over her bed to grab the black phone. The phone her hand closed around ever so slowly did not have a caller id, so she went ahead and answered it.

"Hello?" said she, in her smooth telephone voice. At first she thought it was a machine call, and would activate as it heard her voice or soon after. But, there was no recorded voice, nor robotic voice to here of. Only a complete numbing silence, a silence so intimidating that her frail hand shook as she held the phone. "H-hello?" She tried again, this time her usually calm voice shook, mocking her hands. When no one answered the second time she slammed down the phone, shoving the curly wire cord out of her bed. Her whole body shaking now, she crawled under her blankets. She felt cold now, frozen to the core. Curling up into a ball under the thick blankets, she shivered, knowing she would not sleep.

- - - - - -

Saturday was the day to follow, getting out of bed at nine. She had gotten to sleep a few hours when the sun had risen. Carrying a bowl of cereal, she grabbed the kitchen phone and dialed her close friend. Stephanie Carmikeal. When an energetic voice sounded on the other line she asked,

"Hey, Steph?"

"Andrea? Is that you? You sound horrid!"

Andrea hadn't noticed her voice was insecure, and shaking as her friend did. Taking a bite of cereal she continued,

"Yeah, it's me." as she continued on she brought back her smooth, calm phone voice. "I just need someone to talk to."

After they had talked for a while, and had a filling conversation, Stephanie said, "How about a movie?" She paused, "I heard White Waters is supposed to be good."

Andrea thought it over for a few seconds and decided, maybe a movie break would be a good get-away, and perhaps she did need some time away from her work and the house. Her friend soon agreed to come pick her up, for she owned no car. Andrea waited out side of her apartment building, the spring air swirling around her merrily, and the Saturday morning buzz was quite invigorating. Andrea was adorn in a simple jean and t-shirt outfit, with a tiny over coat. Though she was quite warm, she shook vigorously. It was some time before a very fashionable camouflage Lamborghini pulled up next to the junk ridden curb. A young woman of about 21 stepped out of the drivers' side door, her black straight hair falling around her bright blue eyes, and her pale freckly skin beautiful behind her black coat.

"Stephanie!!" Andrea said excitedly, throwing her arms enthusiastically around her unexpecting friend. After she released her hug, she smiled. "Nice car! How could you-?"

Interrupting Andrea in mid-sentence, Stephanie said, "My father hit some oil out in California somewhere." Her voice showed that she was obviously shy on the subject. "Climb in, or we'll never get there." She said, and winked.

Tickets were easy to come by, though the food lines were insanity. So they skipped out on pop-corn. As they chose their seats - near the middle - the trailers were rolling. As the horror flick began Andrea knew that she wasn't going to enjoy it, and she began to get distracted by the people sitting behind her. She could just feel their eyes boring into the back of her skull. She began to nervously twitch, rubbing her palms together, running her fingers through her hair and finally uncontrollably itching. As her forearms began to bleed, her friend noticed, from her itching.

"Andrea!" Whispered her friend frantically,

"I'm just a tad itchy," she replied, drawing her sleeves back down over her forearms.

"Have you ever thought of seeing a therapist?" Her friend asked her eyes full of worry.

"For what?"

- - - - - -

Lying in bed that night was torture. A breeze rattling her window panes ever so slightly, the buzz of a soft stereo playing somewhere in the distance. Then through the darkness - her phone rang.

Jolting into a sitting position and looking at the phone she was scared. But, without thinking she answered the phone, placing the receiver at her ear. Going instantly into her phone voice she said,

"Hello, Clements Residence." As she said this she wondered who would be calling at this hour. Once again, there was no response. She sat there for a moment - waiting - for a voice on the other line. But, there was no voice, at first. There was just the sound of her own beating heart, echoing in her ears. But, then she heard it - breathing - heavy mocking breathing of life on the other line. Hands shaking so horribly as she slammed down the phone. As she did this with shaking hands she missed at first, quite embarrassed she shoved it on the base.

Slowly she let her body relax, and she drifted back down into her mattress. But, just as she closed her eyes, the phone rang again.

As she lifted the phone again a sensation of coldness engulfed her, shivering and holding the phone to her ear - this time with two hands, this time she said nothing. The first thing she noticed this time was an abnormal amount of static. The sound of static faded into the background a bit, and she heard another sound. It sounded like a shallow beat of a drum, as a steady rhythmic pace. Bum pum, bum pum, bum pum went the rhythmic beating. In a flash it hit her; this was no drum, but a live beating heart. In hysteric insanity she threw the phone. The phone flew straight – hit the wall – and then being on the cord, it bounced back. The wall was left with a small, but quite visual dent. The phone off the hook, and lying on the floor the room was – in her eyes – filled with silence.

Sighing almost peacefully happy she relaxed. But, to her utter despair the phone began to ring… Again. Reaching over she touched the phone on the base, which sat there almost peacefully.

Though the phone rang, she ignored it – as she did this the phone rang endlessly. It did not pause nor break its continuous ring. Lying there listening to this insanely long ring, why won't it stop ringing?! She thought, almost screaming it in her mind.

Screaming profanities and leaping out of her bed, she grabbed the base of the phone with both hands. Her hands on either side of the base, she heaved with all of her might. The phone line was wrenched out of the wall, and the power cord followed suit. The shrill ring of the phone quickly shuttered and died. Slamming the phone to the ground, she sighed and fell into her bed. And for the first time in a long time, she fell into a long awaited sleep.

- - - - - -

When she woke, she had an overwhelming sense of insecurity. Inwardly she shivered. Taking a quick shower, she still felt quite nervous – a bit like she always did – about the on coming day. Looking at her purple hair dryer, she noticed the almost abnormal amount of lint build up. Noticing this she decided that she'd rather risk wet hair than risk her hair dryer catch aflame. Spraying a bit of (quite flammable) hairspray on her wet hair, she smiled into the mirror and applied a small bit of enchanting makeup. She ate quickly, skipping the microwave.

Work was quite simple that day, presenting her final projects. Her finals were masterfully color, and artistically drawn. Her boss was so surprised, and happy with her work he seemed to jump out of his chair. With an overenthusiastic hand, he gave her a raise and a quick boot out the door for a day off. At first, when she stood outside of her office building, she really didn't know what to do with her new found freedom. Then she spotted a nearby coffee-shop and instantly made for it.

Standing in line for her coffee, she quickly became nervous. Four mild looking individuals and one couple (who seemed to be more interested in each other, than ordering coffee.) were in the line before her. The man in front of her turned to look at her with shining gray eyes.

"Come in here often?" He said, after awhile. Clean dark brown, or perhaps black hair framed his sharp features.

"Not very, today is… Quite… special." She said, trailing off. As she saw how his dark eyes bore into her light ones she blushed. Looking down, she saw his clothing, quite artistic like. His black jacket drawn over another black article of clothing: a band t-shirt, and loose baggy pants. Overall he gave off a striving musician look.

"Are you into music?" Said the boy, he looked of nineteen. His age almost made her more nervous, as she ran her pale fingers through her mass of auburn curls. She nodded, and then started to explain her musical 'tastes' as they would say. After awhile they moved up in the line. As the boy was receiving his well awaited coffee, she was ordering hers.

"I don't think I have introduced myself… My name is Trent." He said holding out his hand, his feline-like features drawing in light, but not seeming to be able to release the mellow glow.

Andrea's mind raced as she looked at this boy's hand. If you introduce yourself it means you want to see them again after this… Right? She wondered to herself, as she reached out and took the boy's hand. This was quite an awkward angle for young Trent, holding coffee in one hand and his other crossed over that one to shake Andreas'.

"I'm Andrea," She said, her face almost full with her beautiful smile. Letting go of his hand, she grabbed her coffee which they had just finished making. As Trent walked away, she wasn't sure if she was to follow this boy, but when he offered a table to her she willingly sat.

"So… Where exactly do you work?" Trent asked conversationally, and the conversation happily sparked between them. But, as the coffee ran low, she began to twitch. What would happen now, she thought, her thoughts pounding on her like bricks. Looking around, in a twitchy way she wanted to know whom was boring holes in the back of her mind.

"Are you okay?" asked Trent, the worry for her in his voice rang out like a solemn bell. Without answering she jumped up, and ran towards the back of the small coffee shop. Trent's eyes never leaving her.

Andrea burst into the bathroom, as she closed the door behind her she screamed, "I can't take this anymore!" She turned around, and a blushed totally encased her face. She wasn't in a single bathroom – as she thought – but in a public bathroom… Stalls and all. Pushing past a lady, who looked at her with weird eyes. Slamming the plastic coated door behind her she slid down it, her heels at an awkward angle below her. Tears were forming in her eyes, making her vision before her blurred and distorted. As she let her tears go she cried into her hands. To her distaste the room began to rock around her, making her quite sick.

"Why?" She whispered into the blurry, rocking scene around her. Because, a voice whispered back, because, whispered another many voices. "Huh?" she mumbled looking around; she could have sworn that no one else was in the bathroom with her.

There was a knock on the girl's bathroom door, and a muffled, "Andrea?" a pause and then, "Are you okay?"

Voices that over-lapped and eerily whispering in her ear, who? Who? Mumbling to herself she peeked under the stall. Looking in both directions she noticed no one was there. How weird, she thought. An eerie chill, like there was someone watching her, settled over her bones.

You must go, said the whisperer. These voices seemed to come from nowhere – which made no sense Andrea. At once, she burst out of the stall. Thinking only for a moment, she washed her hands.

"Andrea?" She heard a muffled voice come from directly out side the bathroom door. Coming to the door, she wondered what her excuse would be. You need none, whispered the whispering voices. She nodded to herself for a second, and then wondered out loud to the voice is some thing like shock,

"How do you know what I'm thinking?"

At this point Trent opened the door slightly, as to not intrude in the womanly privacy of the girl's bathroom. His nose was the only thing that was sticking through the bathroom door. He said,

"Do you need anything?" his voice in a low tone, almost as he was embarrassed.

"I suppose I am good now." Said she, she was currently standing in front of the door. Noticing this, he opened the door all of the way.

He was leaning against the pink doorway, at once she knew he was trying to look… Sexy… She shivered, his eyes shone out with brilliance from under his thin back hair. His face set into some sort of friendly scowl. "Can I take you home," said the boy, his hands lightly into his sagging pockets.

"I suppose that would be nice." Andrea said, hugging her arms around herself tightly, so she felt she wouldn't fall apart. At once the whisperers surrounded her again with a chorus of, shhhh… "D-Did you hear that?" she questioned at once, eyes darting around the room as to find the culprit. You will not find me . Said the voice in a melancholy voice.

"Hear what?" said the boy with the name of Trent, as he (with effort) pulled himself off the wall. Placing his arm around her shoulders, and then placing a hot cup of coffee into her shaking hands he led her out of the bathroom. As he walked her to his car, she noticed almost instantly he was no striving musician, but a flourishing one. His car was sleek as a bullet, and as shiny as any car she had ever seen. What is with cars these days? She wondered, as he opened the door for her. To her surprise the door popped upwards, as she stepped in. The interior was leather to her dismay, but it was fabulous none the less. She instantly noticed the gps system built into the dashboard, and the ipod holder which currently held a black shining ipod. Not saying a word, she curled up into a ball on the leather seat and drank her coffee slowly. The coffee was perfect, not too sweet and not to diluted by milk.

"Nice car," she said mainly to herself as he took the wheel and started out of the parking lot. Trent ignored her and asked her where she lived. She told him slowly as he entered it into his gps. Throughout the trip she noticed instead of a woman's voice he had little bells that dinged when it was time to turn or stop.

- - - - - -

Both of them were standing in the door way, his arm still around her shoulder. She dug around for her key for long enough, and finally she found it. Slipping the slim key into the lock, she shrugged out of Trent's arms. "Thanks, for the ride, and perhaps the coffee date." She said, thinking her remark was foolish.

"No problem." Said he, "Are you sure you'll be alright all alone?"

She blushed almost foolishly, and thought, is he asking to come inside? She said she would be fine and turned her back. Andrea knew it was still early, but she wanted to sleep. She wanted to sleep so badly, she fell on to her bed and instantly was asleep.

Hours later, she heard the phone ringing. Though it was distant, as she was in a dream, but she was torn from her dream world and then pulled into reality. Before even looking at the phone she got up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her wrinkled clothing hung from her body, as a dead leaf on a tree. Her makeup was smudged and her lipstick was rounded up to her nose.

"God," said she, rubbing her face in agony "I look like death."

Rubbing off most of her makeup she returned to the kitchen, she noticed that the phone was not ringing in the kitchen. Only in her bedroom. Sighing she returned to her bed. And there lying on the floor, unattached from the wall or any electricity mean possible was the ringing phone. Falling into hysteric laughter, she fell on top of the phone. Yes, said the whisperers. It has come for you. The whisperers paused for a moment, as to make the moment more intense. Which they did, Andrea shook from head to toe. The muffled sound of the ringing phone below her, removing her weight from the phone… She decided to answer it one last time.

"Hello?" she said bitterly, when she heard no voice she screamed, "HELLO?" and the whisperers surrounded her again. And.. Your life. The whisperers laughed at her now, laughs like death and despair. A laugh like all her fears mixed into one horrible laugh. Screaming she flung herself towards the bed, scrabbling about she grabbed the gun.

Cocking the gun she fired two bullets into the phone and then one to her head. It was not anyone else that was to kill Andrea; it was herself.