#dont even get me started on when my raincoats start letting water through

[fonkeloog]

Omg I hate when that happens. Like, I know it's pouring, WHY IS MY HAIR STILL GETTING WET?!

how the fuck is it raining through my umbrella what kind of matrix shit is this

[strangerthingsharrington]

Can’t Fight This Feeling

-7-

"The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly," Robin and I spoke together.

"Why would they be talking about China if they're here in Hawkins?" I wondered, looking at the sheet of paper in front of us with the translated code.

I looked to Robin, she looked equally as confused, "I dont know...maybe they're working together on something?"

I sighed, shrugging my shoulders lightly, "But then why be in Hawkins? Russia is a lot closer to China, so why come all the way to Hawkins?"

Knock knock knock

Robin and I both looked at the back door of the store, she quickly looked to the front of the store before crawling gracefully though the partition and off the shelf where I was sitting, I slid off of it to join her.

"There's something here," I muttered quietly to her as we reached the back door, "they're in Hawkins for a reason, Robin."

"Agreed," she said quietly before opening the back door where a delivery man in a blue uniform was standing.

Robin took the clipboard from him to sign. I looked at the man and politely smiled at him before I looked down, as my mind continued to race.

Week is long. Silver cat. Blue meets yellow. Trip to China. Tread lightly.

Week is long. Silver cat.

"Thanks," Robin said quietly.

I looked up at the man before I caught the writing on his chest. Lynx.

I squinted before looking to Robin who had a bewildered look on her face. I looked back to the man who looked at us strangely before taking a step back and turning to walk away from us.

But not before I saw it.

He began walking down the hallway and I pulled Robin into the back hallway and pointed at his retreating back.

A silver cat.

We both looked at each other in amazement. Had we just cracked part of this code?

She pulled me back inside the shop and closed the door, locking it behind us.

"Holy shit," I whispered, looking at my friend.

She ran a hand through her short hair and looked at me with wide eyes.

“Holy shit," she agreed.

Realization set in. Starcourt. We already knew it was all happening at Starcourt. But clues and message were related back here. We would be able to crack this code because of the mall.

She lunged and grabbed the notebook and she ran from the back room with me right on her heels.

“Louise, you're never gonna believe who Dustin thought was a Russian," I heard Steve say, but I didn't even bother to look for him.

"You did too!" Dustin defended as Robin and I ran between the two of them.

I heard them calling both our names but we didn't stop. We ran into the middle of the sitting area and stepped up onto a bench.

"A trip to China sounds nice," we kept repeating to each other as we turned slowly in circles, looking to find the answer to this.

The florescent glow caught me. Imperial Panda.

"A trip to China," I smiled, motioning to Robin.

She nodded to me, "Tread lightly," she directed us to find this one next.

I suddently felt my whole body go warm at the same time. I was clenching my fists and releasing them over and over. We were so close to solving this. We were almost there.

"Lou!" Robin exclaimed, grabbing my hand, I looked at her and she nodded her head to the second level of the mall. Kaufman Shoes.

"If you tread lightly," she breathed out.

"When blue meets yellow in the west," I began whipping my head around trying to figure out this last one. I turned slowly and saw it. The big neon clock. A blue and yellow hand. When blue meets yellow in the west...at 9:45.

I latched my hand around Robins wrist, she had seen it too.

"When blue meets yellow in the west," we chorused.

"Holy shit we did it," I marvelled, looking at her.

She looked back to me with wide eyes, "We cracked it," she said as a small smile took over her face.

"Louise!" I looked over and saw Steve looking up at me with a perplexed look with Dustin next to him with the same look on his face, "Robin...what are you guys going?"

"We cracked it," she said quietly with a small excited smile, "we cracked the code."

Both the boys eyes went wide, "Seriously?" Dustin asked.

I nodded, grinning, "Yeah...we figured it out! We did it!"

A small smile took over Steve's face when we made eye contact, "You're a genius, Lou," he said before looking over to Robin where his face turned red, "both of you," he added hastily.

"Well come on," Dustin interjected, "let's discuss it in the privacy of the shop."

Robin hopped down from the bench and high-fived my awaiting brother.

Steve extended his hand towards me with a small smile, "Let me help."

I grinned and let out a small laugh, too excited about figuring out the code in such a short amount of time to even think twice about taking Steve's hand for the second time in two days.

I took his hand and let him help me from the two foot tall bench. He smiled back at me, "I'm serious...for you guys to figure it all out...genius."

I breathed out a laugh and let go of his hand to push some hair behind my ears. He used his suddenly unoccupied hand and ran it through his usual perfectly coiffed hair.

"Just a bit of dumb luck," I shrugged.

"Lou," Dustin said quietly from next to me.

I looked down at him and saw his big smile,

"Come on, let's talk about it at the shop," he said before leaving with Robin right next to him.

I took a few steps to follow behind them but turned to make sure Steve was with me. Which he wasn't. He was still standing at the bench in his dopey little Scoops uniform with his knee high socks. It was Steve. The same Steve I had known of my entire life. King Steve.

But in that instant he looked like a completely different person. Not the same one that I had known of forever. His face was relaxed and he had a small grin still there that seemed to grow when he realized I was looking for him to follow.

"Come on, Steve!" I called over to him, waving him over with my hand.

He was by my side in an instant and I, brazenly, wrapped my arm around his and walked side by side with him.

I was feeling almost euphoric walking with Steve because of figuring out the code. My heart rate felt accelerated and I felt like I couldn't get my brain to focus. I just felt so happy.

I let go of Steve's arm only when we got past the counter of the shop and we went in the back where Dustin and Robin were getting settled into chairs. I took a seat across from Dustin and Robin, with Steve taking the empty spot on my other side.

"Okay...so what are we looking at here?" Dustin asked looking from me to Robin.

Robin and I took turns explaining sections of the story, filling them in on the fully translated code, the delivery man, and finding the other parts of message within the mall.

Dustin and Steve listened intently with small smiles on their faces, every so often their brows would lift up in surprise.

"Holy shit," Dustin said once Robin completed the whole explanation.

"So, now what?" I asked, looking across the table at Dustin.

He sighed, "I'm not sure," he shrugged, "when blue meets yellow in the west is the time. So nine forty five tonight. We should probably check out the loading dock."

"So a stake out?" Steve confirmed, I looked to him and nodded.

"We need to know what they're bringing in there, the schedule and the comings and goings," Robin said, propping her foot up onto her chair.

“We have to go up there tonight," I stated, "we've come this far...we're checking it out and we're going to find out what's in there. What they're hiding and why they're in Hawkins."

—-

Steve and Robin rushed through their closing, we left the store with Steve closing the gate and locking it up. We walked through the doors that that led us through the back halls of the mall before we found the roof access. We all followed Steve up to the little door where he pushed it open and I could instantly hear the rushing of the water from the rain.

I pulled my raincoat close to me and pulled the hood over my head, Steve looked back to the rest of us, "Ready?"

I nodded back to him as Robin and Dust confirmed that they were too.

"Stay low," Steve reminded us.

He turned and ducked down before making his way to the ledge with us following behind him.

It was quite dark out and thankfully the rain would, hopefully, cover up any additional noise that we might have made.

We got to the ledge and looked over it, at the delivery people coming unloading trucks.

"Two guards at the door," Steve said, leaning over the ledge more.

Dustin went to his bag and pulled out his binoculars, he brought them up and kept watching.

I wiped away rain that had fallen into my face and began to shiver slightly, partially from the cold rain and the realization that this was a serious situation. It was kind of fun to crack the code and all that shit...but now we were looking for Russian spies and trying to find out what they were doing here. We were digging ourselves deeper and deeper and soon we wouldn't be able to dig ourselves back out of this hole.

"Make sure you look for Kaufman Shoes and Imperial Panda deliveries," I reminded Dustin.

He nodded and continued looking through his binoculars, I tried readjusting my raincoat but the rain was slowly starting to dampen my sweatshirt. I ran my hands up my arms to try and create some friction to warm myself up again, but it was useless.

"You okay?" Steve asked me.

I looked over at him, "Yeah," I said quickly, "just cold, I guess."

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked quickly, going to remove his coat.

I shook my head quickly, "I'm good, Steve. But thank you."

"Whistling man, ten o'clock," Dustin said.

"What do you think he's got in there?" Steve asked.

"Guns, bombs," Dustin started.

"Chemical weapons," added Robin.

"Whatever it is, they're armed to the teeth," Dustin said, I squinted and could see, clear as anything even through the heavy downpour that the two men guarding the door were armed with guns. Really big guns.

"Great...that's great," Steve groaned, wiping his eyes from the rain.

One of the guards went to the door and suddenly it opened. Maybe a passcode or key card?

"What do you thinks in there?" I asked.

"It's just more boxes!" Dustin said quickly, not pulling the binoculars away from his face.

"Let me check it out," Steve said, blindly reaching for Dustin's binoculars.

"No-I'm still looking!"

"Let me see it!" Steve insisted.

"Dustin, let him look," I calmly told my brother, wouldn't hurt to have Steve check it out too.

"No, in a minute!" he snapped.

Then the binoculars were slammed against the metal ledge making an extremely loud banging sound.

"Shit," I said quietly, just before the guards took on an alerted position, holding their guns tighter to themselves.

The four of us ducked down at the same time so we would be hidden from view of the guards. Even though I knew they would still come to investigate a sound that was so out of the ordinary.

I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped onto the loose gravel under my hands out of fear. The gravel was replaced by Steve's hand within seconds holding it tightly and squeezing.

I opened my eyes and looked over at him, he was staring back at me with wide eyes.

"We have to go, they're going to come look," I told him.

He looked from me to the door that led us up here and nodded, "Let's make a break for it guys," Steve said to us, before getting up and ducking low and running back towards the door.

Once we were back in the door I dropped Steve's hand again to brush off some of the water from my coat and push some out of my hair.

"Quick," I panted, as I began leading them back down the stairwell. We got the bottom but we came to a fork, and I knew that one of the guards was going to be coming up any second. I knew which way we came in, it was closest to where the guard would be, so I started heading down the other hall.

"Lou! This way!" Dustin called.

I looked back and shook my head, "He's going to be coming through that door! Trust me!"

I heard their footsteps scurry behind me, just as we reached another set of doors marked mall entrance we heard the faint sound of another door being thrown open.

"Good call, Lou," Steve gushed.

I smiled over at him, "Well," I began and looked to Dustin, "guess we found your Russian."

I pushed open the door and found ourselves on the opposite end of the mall from where Scoops Ahoy was. We continued speed walking over towards the other end.

We didn't stop until we reached the doors at the parking lot where Steve parked his car that morning. That felt like ages ago.

The four of us ran through the rain and into Steve's car, me in the front and Robin and Dustin in the back.

"We have to get in there," I said instantly.

"We've come this far," Robin agreed, "I'm finding out what the hell is in there."

"Tomorrow," Dustin stated, as Steve left the malls parking lot, "we'll figure out a way in tomorrow morning."

"I'll pick everyone up," Steve told us.

I say silently in the front seat with my thoughts. But the adrenaline was still pumping through my whole body. That was close. Too close. We have to be smarter tomorrow when we tried to get in the room and get to the bottom of this.

By the time we got to our house Dustin had come up with about ten thousand way to get it which included finding a way to disguise ourselves and get access and ended with him thinking we could dig our way in there.

Dustin offered a swift goodbye to Steve before leaping out of the car before it was fully in park and slamming it shut behind him.

I opened the car door, "See you tomorrow, Steve!" I said before taking a step out.

"Lou?"

I looked back to Steve, "Yeah?" I asked as my leg began getting soaked because the door was still open.

He hesitated and began rubbing the steering wheel, "Lou...you don't have to do this," he told me quietly, "this could be dangerous, you know? I...um, don't want you to get hurt or anything."

I stared at him and watched his eyes dart back and forth while he looked at me, I closed my eyes and smiled slightly.

"Don't ruin all the fun, Steve," I said jokingly, "I still need more information for my what I did this summer essay," I said, throwing it back to our first conversation in the back of Scoops Ahoy.

He smiled at me and nodded, "Yeah...yeah if you're sure then okay. I'll um, see you tomorrow then."

"Bye Steve," I said quietly before getting out of the car, shutting the door and running over to my door that Dustin had left open for me.

I went to shut it, only to find that, once again, Steve was still sitting in his car with the window down, surly getting drenched. He raised his hand in a small wave to me which I returned before he finally began backing out fo the drive way and I finally shut the door.

I walked straight to my room, the exhaustion was finally setting in after the events of the day and the lack of sleep from the night before.

But even though I was beyond tired, my mind continued to race at an alarming speed and I couldn't quiet it down. I kept running through everything over the past few days and it was filling me with fear, stress, anxiety, eagerness, adrenaline and excitement.

Russian code. Star court. Steve smiling at me. Guards. Imperial Panda. Steve grabbing my hand. Translation. Steve driving me home. Steve making me laugh. Maybe he wasn't a jerk anymore. Maybe he hides it more.

Finally, thankfully, my eyelids became too heavy and I drifted off.

—-

Title credit to REO Speedwagon and gif credit to owner!

[itskimtaehyung]

Blindspot

Who is he? Who is the man with no eyes?

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader (non romantic)

Genre: Supernatural Horror, Drama

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary:  Everywhere you turn, he’s there, just barely on the edge of your vision. No one else seems to see him. He outside on the street, in your house, in your room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to look at him directly.

Warnings: mentions of death and blood

A/N: if y’all dont already think i’m the worst procrastinator ever i’ll have you know that i started this fic in august of 2018 and meant to finish it for halloween of 2018 but i couldn’t even finish it in time for halloween of 2019 bc im trash

Two children, a boy and a girl, played along the rocks at the waterfront. It was overcast today, as it usually was, and a dense fog rolled over the bay toward the shore. They scuttled along, chasing crabs, attempting to grab the tiny, orange critters as they disappeared into the water. Their mother watched from a bench a few feet away. 

“Be careful, loves. We can’t afford to lose anymore people here.”

The children nodded understandingly and proceeded with their activity. That is, when the eldest, the sister, spotted something strange amongst the jagged rocks that jutted out from the mellow tides. 

“Mommy! What’s that?”

The mother stood up from the bench and calmly strolled over to her daughter. She peered down at the rocks, and saw the strange figure that was jammed between them. 

The mother let out a sigh. “That’s Stephanie. Do you remember her? She baked brownies for the bake sale last month.”

The son nodded. “I thought she went missing last week.”

“She did. This is where the people who go missing sometimes end up. Come on, children.” She held out both her hands and each child took one. “You two walk on home while I go tell Sheriff Strazzeri.”

Emerald Bay was too small for a proper sheriff’s department, or a crime scene investigation unit. It was just Sheriff Strazzeri, passionate about the law, and his son, Will, who attended the town’s subpar, probably not accredited by any other town’s standards, medical school. Together they investigated all the weird things that happen in this tiny town.  

People always say there’s nothing to do in Emerald Bay. They’re pretty much right. It’s a small coastal town, with a population of about four hundred and declining. On the east side of Emerald Bay is the Marina, lined with abandoned boats that smell of rotting fish and are covered with ancient, dried-up barnacles. On the west side is your ticket out: a dirt road that leads into the forest, a thick, dense barrier of emerald painted evergreens. That’s where the town gets its name. And past the forest is the farmland, and past the farmland is the big city. So why don’t people leave Emerald Bay? Why don’t they abandon it completely?

The answer? No one ever makes it out of the forest alive. 

Everytime someone packs their bags and tries to leave Emerald Bay, something prevents them from truly leaving. You remember when you were young, maybe three or four years old, your neighbor, Ben, decided he had enough of the monotony of this town, and got in his car and started driving. You thought he was off to a bigger and better life, somewhere out in the big city, but three days later, they found his car broken down on the road in the forest, with his dead body rotting inside. 

A few years before that, a woman who had been widowed, thought it was too difficult living in the house she had shared with her husband. She didn’t even take her things. She just started walking. She wandered into the forest, and a few days later, her body was found floating in between the boats at the Marina. In the pocket of her yellow raincoat was a piece of paper, surprisingly undamaged. On it was a drawing, done in what appeared to be blood. It looked like it was drawn by a toddler, simple and cartoonish. It was of a man, or rather a stick figure, with something over his eyes. Below the drawing were two words: SAVE ME. 

This has been going on for as long as anyone can remember. Residents have tried to explain this strange phenomenon, sometimes with outlandish theories. But the most common theory, and what you think is the most plausible one, sprang from the drawing found in the widow’s pocket.

Many think that she was trying to warn us. That she drew it in a haste before she died. Many think that there is a man in the forest. One that wears a piece of cloth over his eyes. One that takes the lives of anyone who wanders into his home.

Supposedly he lives in the forest alone. Deep into the dark woods, making himself known only at night. His skin and his hair are an ashy gray, and he is said to glow under a full moon. But the most distinguishing thing about him is he always wears a black blindfold. Why? Because he is blind. Because he is the man with no eyes. 

You have always been interested in this kind of stuff. The spooky, the scary, the unsettling. Slenderman theories completely consumed you in grade school. So did werewolves, ghosts, and all things supernatural. You’ve always managed to prove them all as myths. Except this one.

You had almost forgotten about the man in the forest until last week. 

Mark was a well beloved citizen of Emerald Bay. You had been in school with him your whole life. He was so incredibly smart and gifted. Everyone thought he would become mayor one day or something. That is, until a couple of weeks ago, when he went missing.

His family said he went to buy milk from the grocery store and he never returned. All of Emerald Bay were on the lookout, although there aren’t very many places to hide in such a small town. He had no reason to run away either. His parents were very loving, and his friends were supportive. No one ever imagined that he would do such a thing. 

A week after Mark went missing, his body is found at the edge of the forest. There’s no sign of injury, and he wasn’t gone long enough to die from thirst or starvation. Will can’t find anything wrong with him. He can’t even determine when Mark had died.

As an ordinary citizen, you don’t have access to many of the details surrounding Mark’s death. All the information you get is from what they print in the local newspaper, and you know those things never tell the whole story. You began volunteering at the local library a few months back, hoping to gain more access to the towns archives, but there are so many newspapers and journals that it quickly became overwhelming, and you put a pause on poring through them. However, being the urban legend enthusiast you are, you want to know more, and the only way to get information is to dig it up yourself.

That’s why you waited until tonight, the night of the first full moon since they discovered Mark’s body. You equip yourself with a flashlight, pepper spray, and a sledge hammer (you know, just in case). You’ve never hunted this kind of creature before, so you don’t know what kind of equipment you would need. It’s stupid to go out into the forest alone, especially on the night of a full moon, but you don’t know anyone stupid enough to agree to go with you. 

The streets are dead, as they are every night, when you pull your car up to the edge of the forest. You can see the full moon peeking through the branches of the trees, round and luminous.

You must go on foot from here. The roads in the forest are bumpy and jagged from the tree roots breaking through the asphalt. You would bust a tire within seconds of entering. 

The chilly sea breeze nips at your skin when you exit your car. You pop open your trunk and grab your hunting supplies: An EMF meter you built yourself, your sledge hammer for defense, holy water blessed by Reverend Kang, some dried sage, and a wooden stake because vampires aren’t real but you never know, right?

You close the trunk and step away from your car. The breeze seems to get stronger as you walk toward the forest, almost as if it’s pulling you into it. You let it lure you in amongst the trees. You follow it until you can’t see your car behind you anymore, and still you continue on. You make your way around a large tree and then stop dead in your tracks. In front of you is a figure, glowing so brightly that you can’t discern any actual shapes. You just know that it is vaguely human. 

“Y/N.” The sound echoes in your ears. The voice is melodic, calming, unlike anything you’ve heard before.

You struggle to catch your breath. “H-how do you know my name?”

“I know everything.” The figure lifts its hand up and beckons you. “Come closer.”

You can feel your limbs wanting to move on their own. You try to resist it and stand your ground. You don’t want to go near him. You want to stay a safe distance away, but he’s too strong, and he pulls you closer to him. Soon, the two of you are face to face, and you can make out his features. His hair glows silver, and his icy white skin contrasts starkly with the black blindfold that covers his eyes. He radiates a strange energy, one that you’ve never experienced before. It’s cold, yet warm at the same time. Goosebumps prickle on your skin, yet your body feels feverish. Your chest feels tight as you struggle to fill your lungs with air. 

“W-what are you?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I am ancient. I am the only one of my kind, therefore I don’t have a name. But you may call me Jimin.” 

“Jimin,” you mutter in awe. You have so many questions for this strange creature. You never thought you’d actually find him, and now that you have, you must make the most of it. “There are so many things I want to know. Why do you take people? Why do you kill the residents of Emerald Bay?”

“I simply call to them. It is their choice whether they answer or not.”

“Are you calling me to right now?”

“Yes.” Jimin furrows his brows in confusion. “But you seem to be resisting my charm.”

“I’m not here to be your next victim.”

“Then why are you here?”

“LIke I said before. To find out why you take people, why you kill them.”

“But that’s not the only reason. The people who come here are unhappy. They want more from Emerald Bay. No one wanders into the forest, no matter how curious, unless they don’t mind being taken.”

“That’s not true,” you refute. 

“Isn’t it? Think about everyone who has wandered in here. Think about your own self.”

You open your mouth to speak, to tell him he’s wrong. But with the blink of an eye he’s gone.

You drive home dejectedly. Yes, you found Jimin, but now you have more questions than answers. What is he? Why does he kill people? How does he do it? 

You get farther and farther away from the forest. It’s nearly morning and the AM fog is starting to roll in from the ocean, coating the town in a thick blanket of gray. It’s so thick, you can barely see the block ahead of you. Your eyes momentarily wander away from the road to check your mirrors. Your tires screech as you suddenly slam on the brakes. You rub your eyes and blink. You could have sworn you just saw something in your back seat. And you’re almost positive that something was Jimin. But as you glance back up at your rear view, there’s no one there. It’s just your empty back seat and the eerie fog behind you. 

You tell yourself that you’re just seeing things. You didn’t get any sleep last night and you’re starting to hallucinate. 

When you get home, you’re so exhausted that you immediately collapse onto your bed and fall asleep. If you dream that night, you don’t remember any of them.

You sleep until you can’t anymore, and you lay in bed until your body aches. It screams at you to get up, and so you do, making your way to the bathroom to wash your face. 

You splash the cool water over your skin, rinsing off the cleanser that still clings to the area around your eyes. Afterward, you use a towel to pat your skin dry and take a look in the mirror. You freeze and nearly drop the towel. Over your shoulder, you can see Jimin standing, watching but not watching. 

You whip around but there’s nothing there. When you look back in the mirror, he’s nowhere to be seen. You got plenty of sleep this morning, so there’s no reason for you to be seeing things. But what else could possibly explain this?

Something doesn’t feel right. 

As hard as you try, you can’t bring your eyes to open. You can sense it. You can feel something in your room. You sense an unmistakable presence at the foot of your bed. It feels, evil, demonic, malevolent. 

You gasp for air, but the blankets seem to suffocate you. You want to push them off so you can breathe, but you’re paralyzed. Your heart races as you try to will yourself to open your eyes, to take a deep breath, anything. 

As quick as it comes, the feeling is gone. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You wiggle your toes to see if you can move again, but you’re too scared to open your eyes. Instead, you bury yourself deeper beneath your covers and try to fall asleep, but you can’t shake the feeling that something truly evil was just in your room. 

When you finally succumb to slumber, you dream of the forest that night. 

You’re running. The brisk air and the smell of pine nip at your nostrils. Your lungs burn, and no matter how hard you push yourself, you can’t seem to move faster than a crawl. You feel something chasing you, and you’re trying to get away. You’re trying to get back to the main road where you’ve parked your car, but the only thing around you is endless forest. Your heart feels as if it’s going to explode. 

Faster, faster, you tell yourself. But it’s no use. You can’t go any faster. 

You run and run. You don’t see the fallen branch on the ground until your foot catches on it, and you hurdle forward, putting your hands out to break the fall. 

But you never hit the ground, because the panic jolts you awake. 

This time you’re able to open your eyes, and it’s daylight out. Your clock says 7:03, twelve minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off and you have to get ready for school. 

When you sit up your brain pounds with a massive migraine that leaves you a bit nauseous. You wash your face in the sink like you do every morning, but today, you don’t see Jimin in the reflection with you. You bend over to rinse the cleanser off your face, and when you stand back up straight, you’re hit with a sudden wave a dizziness. Bile makes its way up your throat and you heave violently into the sink until it’s filled with thick, dark blood. 

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you see your mouth covered in red. You stumble back as a high pitched scream rings through your ears. 

Your mom rushes up the stairs and sticks her head in to the bathroom. “Is everything alright? Why did you scream?” 

You turn to face her. Can’t she see that your mouth is covered in blood? She’s not looking at you in horror, her concerned expression does not waver. When you glance back in the mirror, there’s no blood to be seen, and the sink is spotless as well. 

“Ye-yeah, Mom. I just…” you wrack your brain for an excuse, “thought I saw a spider. That’s all. Everything is fine.” But you can still taste the metallic tang on your tongue. 

When she leaves you look back in the mirror and Jimin stands in her place. You can feel his gaze piercing through the cloth over his eyes. 

With the blink of an eye he’s gone. 

Your life goes on like this for days, weeks. Everywhere you turn, he’s there, just barely on the edge of your vision. No one else seems to see him. He outside on the street, in your house, in your room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to look at him directly. You can’t sleep. You can barely eat. You can’t focus. 

You can’t stand it anymore. You need answers.

The Emerald Bay Library is old, much like all the other buildings in Emerald Bay. It’s been here for longer than even the oldest residents of the town can remember. Its shelves are filled mostly with novels from the previous century. No one knows where they came from. They seemingly just manifested one day. It’s part of the mystery of how this town came into existence.

After your volunteer shift, you tell Head Librarian Kim that you’re going to stay behind to do some research for a class project. He hands you the keys and tells you to lock up when you’re done without questioning you any further. The second he leaves, you head a computer to search the town archives. You look for journals, newspaper articles, anything that documents strange and inexplicable happenings. You write down some promising pieces along with their call number and set off to find them. 

When you turn the corner to head down one of the aisles, you can feel him. You look around you, seeing if you can find him lurking in the shadows. You don’t see anything, but his presence, the heaviness in the air, this thick, eerie feeling, is unmistakable.��

Shrugging it off, you scan the bookshelf for what you’re looking for. You trace your fingers over it’s spine, almost as old as the town itself.

The Mystery and Lore of Emerald Bay

You pluck the book from the shelf. It’s dusty, like it hadn't been touched in years. 

You wander over to the tables that sit in between the shelves and take a seat. The book’s leathery cover feels dry beneath your fingers. Stiff and crusty. Dust flies up toward your face as you open the book and flip through its yellowed pages, filled with handwritten and hand drawn accounts of unexplained phenomena that once sent the town into panic. 

The first is the chupacabra, from the time the town’s cattle were disappearing. Turns out it was just a resident who didn’t want to pay for beef at the local butcher shop and decided to take and slaughter them for himself.

Then the Emerald Bay Monster, which was quickly determined to merely be driftwood.

Along with a few other things that have since been solved by modern science. Things like poisonous mushrooms, lightning bugs, and fairy rings.

Finally, at the end of the book, you find what you’re looking for. 

The Man with No Eyes

You skim through the introduction and description of Jimin, then some eye witness accounts written by former residents of Emerald Bay, long dead from old age or maybe even something more sinister. Then you find what you’re looking for. 

Not much is known about this mysterious man, only that he kills. Some say that he is both immortal and invulnerable, making him impervious to any harm one might attempt to inflict upon him. However, there are rumors from the ancient times about this man. There have been no records of whether anyone has actually attempted these methods, however, the creature still stands, which is a testament to something. If one truly wants to know, legend has it that the only way to kill him is–

You’re about to turn the page only to find that the subsequent pages have been ripped out, and on the back cover, written in what appears to be blood, are the words: 

YOU  CAN’T KILL ME

You drop the book as soon as you see it.

You want to yell at him, to scream. But it’s hard to talk to something you can’t face directly. “What do you want? Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“I will be here until you give into me.”

You whip your head around, only to be met with dusty bookshelves and darkness. 

“Is this how you got the others to do it? By messing with their heads? Come out where I can see you!”

That’s when the bright, glowing figure steps out from the shadows and stands in front of you. His face is expressionless as he stares at you through the pitch black blindfold. 

“Do you think they just happened to go to the forest, just because you wanted to?” Jimin asks. “No, that was me, calling to them. And now I am calling to you. I have come to claim you. It is your time.”

You shake your head and stand your ground. 

“Come to me,” he beckons. 

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I will choose someone else,” he answers plainly. 

“I don’t want someone else to die but I don’t want to die either!”

”Then don’t. You don’t have to die. Just come to me.”

“Why don’t you just leave me alone? Why don’t you leave all of us alone?”

“It’s not in my nature. My species feeds off of your energy, your sadness.”

“And if we don’t give it to you, you die?”

Jimin chuckles. “No, you can’t kill me that easily. I simply get angrier, more violent until I get what I want.”

When he smiles, you can see his teeth. Sharp, jagged. There are rows of them, like shark teeth. Your heart pounds in your chest. You take a step back, but Jimin is quick to step toward you. You take another step, but the backs of your legs hit the table. You quickly dart your eyes around the room, searching for an exit route. There are tables, chairs, and shelves in the way. The main entrance is on the other side of the library, and Jimin stands in the way of the emergency door. 

“There’s nowhere for you to run, Y/N. Because as fast as you run, I will always be faster.” 

“What happens when I give in?”

“You’ll find out.”

He removes his blindfold to reveal the brightest, most blinding light you have ever seen.

The same woman watches as her children play along the shore. a light breeze blows a crumpled piece of paper to her feet. she picks it up and reads it, sighing. 

MISSING PERSON Y/N Along with a photo your mom took of you two years ago. 

You’ve been missing for over two months now. Usually the bodies turn up within a couple of weeks. No one was brave enough to go into the forest to look for you. Not even Officer Strazzeri. Not even your mother. 

Maybe you weren’t taken. Maybe you were a lucky one. Maybe you were actually able to escape Emerald Bay onto bigger and better things. 

[theboyz-engup]

Crush Culture - Chanhee 2019 Birthday Oneshot

yes this is late and yes the name is the title of the conan gray song dont @ me but uh i hope you enjoy loveliesss - Admin Zea

From the way you came home, Chanhee knew something was wrong. Having the house to himself, the boy fluttered around the kitchen to prepare some food for the following day, the occasional tasting being his meal for the night. It had been a quiet evening, the sound of the clock on the wall and whir of the air conditioning filling the empty space. Still, the moment he found some time to relax, waiting for you to make your way home, you quietly slipped through the front door. Your raincoat slipped from your shoulders and drifted to the hanger, hands and body hidden from Chanhee’s view on the couch. Usually you said hi when you walked in but you just kept your head down and shifted around soundlessly but today was completely different.

You didn’t even notice him sitting there, staring at you like his eyes were glued. You just continued, taking a left down the hall towards your bathroom. Chanhee found himself following, slippers creating slight pecks against the floor with each step he took. What he found was devastating. The water was running and there you were, brushing your teeth at seven in the evening. 

Something definitely went wrong. 

“Hi Chanhee,” you mumbled, catching sight of him in the mirror. Expressionless, you stared at yourself in the mirror, continuing your motions systematically. 

Knowing your routine, the pink haired boy positioned himself against the doorframe of the bathroom, leaning his head slightly to rest against the white border. “Want me to turn on the shower?”

All you had to do was give him a curt nod and he shuffled past you to get to the knobs, turning them to just a tad hotter than he would have it. As the water came pouring down, the boy looked over his shoulder at you and caught you staring at yourself for a moment before leaning forward to clean out the toothpaste. If you weren’t planning on eating past seven, he couldn’t think about how bad your day was. 

“Face mask after?” 

He was surprised you asked first, answering with a nod of his own. You gave him a smile but it was just slightly forced. Lightly, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. 

“Happy birthday, Chanhee,” you chimed, trying to be as happy as you could but the sound didn’t come out right. Softly, he hugged you back and rubbed up and down to try and comfort you. 

“Thanks, y/n,” he started, glad you said it despite your mood, “but go and shower and we’ll talk after.”

Chanhee was just finishing his homemade concoction of avocado and aloe, a few other products being added in for a calming effect, when you made your way into the kitchen. In your hands were headbands, ones you'd bought the both of you so you could match on days like this. His was a pink bow with white polka dots while yours was baby blue with yellow dots. 

“I never put it on properly,” you mumbled, looking embarrassed. You asked him every time to adjust it and, for the most part, he would tease you for it. It wasn't so hard, all you had to do was slip the material over your head and make sure your hair was held back. Tonight was different though and he felt rather generous. 

Gently, he grasped the soft band and opened it to fit it around your head. You had your eyes already closed, skin slightly discoloured in places your acne would act up or from a lack of sun. Chanhee couldn't stop himself from thinking you were beautiful still, blemishes you poked at and covered up becoming some of his favourite patterns on your face. He didn't have the lightest touch but somehow he managed to put the headband over your ears and fix it so it wasn't hurting you, a line of concentration between his eyebrows. 

Your index finger reached out and poked at it, eyes wide and somehow playful. “You're getting old.”

He sputtered, reaching his hands back from your face and blinking. “I'm what?”

“Old,” you drew out, voice creating a melody with the word and Chanhee didn't know whether or not to be offended. Still, he chuckled at your silly grin, scoff coming out first but slowly easing into something lighter. 

“Where's everyone else?” you asked, looking around as if you didn't already know it was the two of you alone tonight. Chanhee picked up his bowl, placing it in the fridge to make sure it set. A shrug fell from his shoulders as he tried being nonchalant about it. 

“Wow,” you hummed, reappearing in the kitchen with your arms crossed,” the disrespect. We've been friends for almost four years and they all leave on your birthday?” 

“Don't remind me,” Chanhee clucked, a bit of negative energy spurring in his chest. He wanted to mimic your stance but decided against it, leaning against the fridge door to keep it closed. 

Your mouth shot off to talk about something else, discarding the topic of your roommates as you both waited for the mask to set. Another minute or so and it would be done but Chanhee found it hard to keep track of time when he was with you. Minutes stretched into hours and you seemed to consume him, making him see nothing but you. It was hard for him to become so enamoured with someone. Truly, he would've laughed in their face if someone told him four years ago he'd be this caught up in a person. 

The thing was that, he definitely wasn't the same person he was four years ago. Meeting you at orientation was by chance, being landed in the same group and then having classes together almost unheard of. Still, you were persistent and liked to talk, heart on your sleeve in every moment. No matter what, he could tell your mood, and he supposed that's why he liked being around you so much. You never acted like you weren't what you were. Then, there was meeting Eric and Hyunjae and the rest, all of which had formed your friend group and then your roommates. The six of you were inseparable but, now that college was coming to a close, distance began to form between all of you. All of you except you and Chanhee, of course. You still had your daily chats and weekly face mask sessions, even falling asleep in the living room together. 

You were bad at letting go of friends, loving routine and happy to have someone to do stuff with all the time. The rest of your roommates were still close with you but still, you spent most of your time with Chanhee recently. He pretended not to notice, thinking it was a longshot and you just liked his friendship; but he couldn't deny that he wished it was more. For him, it was so much more. 

“That's cold,” you hissed, scrunching your nose up to the bridge of it. Your eyes wired shut, hands placed in the space between your legs as you grasped the edge of your chair. Chanhee leaned forwards, trying not to laugh at how emotive you were.

“It’s not so bad,” he managed, chuckles shifting past his front teeth when his mouth landed in a smile. The shake of his shoulders created messy lines on your skin but he ran with it, a painting of sorts forming in green on your cheeks. 

You squealed a bit once Chanhee placed the final drop on your nose, shoulders raising and causing your neck to disappear in the shiver. It was beautiful seeing you like this, so completely carefree. Stress marks lay on your skin but they sat covered now beneath the surface of a small concoction made for relaxation. With sweatpants that hung low and an oversized shirt littered with rips where you would tuck it into your pants, you looked beautiful. In moments like these, Chanhee felt that he could stare at your for ages and never get bored. 

Closing his eyes for you to put on the mask was a challenge but he managed it somehow. You tried very hard to press it into his skin, cooing that it was cold and trying hard to make him believe it. Even if he did think that, he wouldn’t give in about something as silly as this so he simply bit his bottom lip to keep from grinning widely. 

“That’s how you get wrinkles,” you pointed out, dabbing the rest of the mask over his smile lines. It wasn’t something unique to you but when you focused, you tended to drop your mouth and stick your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It was a little detail, something nobody would really notice, but Chanhee did. Opening his eyes to see you, and he meant truly see the person you were unbarriered, was never an issue for him. 

“Tell that to your nose,” he hummed, raising his eyebrows slightly. You clicked your tongue, leaning back in your seat as you brought your legs all the way up to your chest.

“Mean.”

He just shrugged. “It’s my birthday, I’m allowed to do what I want.”

The reminder seemed to make something click in your brain. A clap sounded through the air and suddenly, you were off to the kitchen. You called back for Chanhee to close his eyes and after a few moments of cupboards closing and opening and the sound of the fridge, the lights finally went off. Very briefly, Chanhee had covered his eyes to make it look like he hadn’t been watching you flit about for candles and forks and matches. It was undoubtedly one of the sweetest things about that night. 

 Shyly, and quietly, you began to sing Happy Birthday to him. When he removed the film from his eyes, he could still see you clearly in the dark. Hair pulled back, mask starting to set into your skin, and eyes shining brightly under candlelight. The shadows they cast danced around your face, wind from walking too fast from the kitchen to the dining table clearly threatening their existence but you didn’t have a care in the world. You just kept singing, placing the cake down between your two seats and grinning the whole way through. 

“Do you want me to count out how old you are?” you snickered, leaning forward with him.

Lips placed in an ‘o’ to blow out the candles, Chanhee clicked his tongue, his attitude starting to show. “Don’t you dare remind me.”

A little giggle bubbled up but you let him fan over the few candles you found, hands clapping lightly so they didn’t get in the way. In the darkness, it was just your breathing until your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you brought him in for a proper hug. 

“Happy birthday.”

The words were silk coming from your lips. 

Chanhee lay in bed that night, hugging a small plushie while he lay on his back. His eyes were vacantly staring at the ceiling, mind elsewhere and replaying that night. Each time he blinked, he could see you clearer. Every laugh and every little joke you told, the times you hit the table you were laughing so hard and the times you just complained because work was terrible and school was terrible and everything made you feel down: he could hear it all plain as day in that moment. It was also in that moment that Chanhee fell in love with you. In an instant, his whole world seemed to revolve around you and making that smile form. Such a quiet night was suddenly becoming his favourite night of all and he didn’t know how or when but he knew why; and it was because of you. It would always be because of you. 

A small shadow flickered from the corner of his eye and, when he turned to look, there you were. After a blink or two, Chanhee lifted up on one elbow and murmured, “what’s wrong?”

You were holding your pillow. With only a faint light from the plug-in in the hallway, your body was made of shadows. He couldn’t see your face but he could feel the apprehension as you shifted from bare foot to bare foot, raising your pillow higher to clutch. 

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

He knew you were half expecting a sigh, or a faint ‘no’. On his worse days, he would’ve wanted to be left alone. Yet, he couldn’t get those thoughts out of his head and any more time with you felt like time he’d never regret. Soundlessly, Chanhee moved over in his bed and patted it, removing the blanket for you to come under. The patter of your feet against the floor left his heart beating in his chest, smile immediately lifting his cheeks to his eyes. 

You quietly found your way in, settling softly into his matress. It sank and invited you in, sleep suddenly becoming much closer now that you were with him. Still, you inched forwards, wanting to properly see him in the dark. Chanhee’s face was just a few fingers away from yours, hand under his head and folded elbow the only thing keeping you apart. The second his eyes adjusted to see you, he was left breathtaken to the point where words failed him. All he wanted to do was just look at you, just for a little while. 

Something about this made you curl inwards, eyes dropping way down and shoulders curling inwards. “I’m sorry for being sad and annoying today.”

This came as a surprise for him. 

“I was the only one here to celebrate with you and I think I made it all about me and I’m sorry. It’s your birthday, you deserve to feel special. I’ll make it up to you, I promise I wi-”

“Oh my god, no,” Chanhee drawled, shaking his head as best as he could. Despite himself, he pulled you in for another hug, shifting to make it comfortable. Your forehead was lightly pressed against his chest, body curled so you could fit right into him.

“This has been my favourite birthday yet,” he decided, needing to be sincere with you. You parted for just a moment, straining to look him in the eye. The space was just enough for his hand to fall into the crack between you, sliding from your ribs to the soft material on his bed. 

“Don’t worry about a thing. I loved it, I-” he caught himself there, quickly redirecting his words and murmuring, “I loved it, okay?”

The only thing you offered in return was a smile, one that seemed like it brimmed on tears. Still, you held it together and hummed a nod, pressing closer again. His hand dared to reach over you but instead found itself in one of yours. Sleep came easy when you were together and whatever went wrong- no matter when- disappeared into the stillness of night. Silence fell on you like a blanket and you took it, curled up and had sweet dreams of the person in front of you: the person you thought you might love too.

[frembrulee]

involuntary angel

I’m down by the waterfront, the sun splitting all over the water, going completely crazy, and the water’s more blue than I ever remember it being. It’s been this dull muddy grey-blue for ages and suddenly it’s beautiful and stark, the wind coming up off of it and I’ve forgotten a jacket, I’m just wearing a sweater a friend I don’t talk to anymore gave me, ill-fitting jeans, Adidas all-stars, I really only came down here to buy things to make myself feel better, overpriced K-beauty supplies from Moon Moon Cosmetics and… something else I forget, dry-cleaning or something, but the water’s so beautiful and I’m alone and I can’t help it, I start crying.

Not for the sake of it, like the time last winter I was bored and wandering the city and it was windy, cold, frosty out, it was really bad, I actually think it was a full-on snowstorm but I was underdressed again, and I remember stumbling across the benches facing the water. These benches are always taken, usually by one person, but if you try to share a bench with a stranger they think you’re crazy, but no one was out because it was so miserable. The sea felt melancholy that day, but I didn’t really feel anything. I was bored and I thought it’d be interesting to sit on a bench. So I sat there for a while. A few people in heavy raincoats walked by while I sat there, and I amused myself by thinking about what they must be thinking about a lone girl sitting on a bench near the ocean in the rain. I used to do stuff like that to try to make myself feel better. I’d think that at least I was making other people’s lives interesting, or I’d make them stop and think. Like when I used to cry on the subway trains, on the ride home from school. I felt better about it because at least it was interesting, a girl crying on a train.

But today I actually feel something. Not that I didn’t feel anything those other times. But I haven’t felt anything in a long time this... feelable. I’ve actually been feeling it for two whole weeks. After I break up with my boyfriend I got with over the summer, I suddenly don’t know what to do. And it just builds; he doesn’t talk to me at all afterwards, even though we were friends for almost two years beforehand, and he really tried to convince me that he cared about me. But after the break up, radio silence. At first, I think, yeah, maybe it’s normal not to talk. To ‘give it time’, to get over something. But what the fuck is normal? It was three months of seeing each other nonstop. I think part of it is because we never really clicked, and that’s where it gets iffy — I suddenly think he knew that from the beginning, that we didn’t click. His words when we broke up echo in my head:

“So… do you want to call this off?”

“… Yes, I think so.”

“Me too.”

“Wait, really? Why you too?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about the stuff you said before and I think you’re right. I noticed the things you said, but I just wrote them off because I thought we were early in our relationship.”

I’m understanding of this. I tried to break up with him before this conversation, said things like, ‘I still don’t know if I like you.’ I asked him if he felt a spark, and he took a long time before saying, ‘… Yes? I like you and I like hanging out with you.’

Just thinking about it makes me feel like a kid watching an adult film: I feel uneasy and I start to cry but I don’t know why.

So I think I understand, like maybe he didn’t realize we didn’t track exceptionally well, but, after thinking about it, maybe he did realize, deep down. And I start to think, what the fuck. What a fucking waste of time. I honestly get embarrassed; that like, I was a weird fuck-up, but he kept giving me the benefit of the doubt because I was into him. The thing is, during the summer, I was practically manic, whatever that means — more guys had been hitting on me than ever before, I’d been crushing on Chris for a year and he left his girlfriend of five years and we hooked up the next night. I felt funnier and prettier than most of the people around me, like I’d never looked or sounded this good. And suddenly, summer’s over, and I feel like I’m waking up. I’m like, maybe my personality is actually shit. All that cockiness for nothing. Chris has these friends who all have 200 likes on their Facebook profiles, 1,500 Facebook friends, real career jobs, hot girlfriends and boyfriends, and I’m lucky if I get 30 likes and I don’t talk to half of the people I used to. So many people leave; I’m just not that… ��quality’. I don’t quite think he’s embarrassed he dated me, objectively, but inside his head, I suddenly wonder if he really ever liked me in the first place. I don’t even know.

On top of that, all of my friends are his friends. And none of them have talked to me in a while. They all wanted to date, at one point. I’m that girl. I’m just a dumb girl.

So everything comes crashing down. It’s been two weeks. I walk by the water, and I feel so hopelessly… bad. About myself. I look at the water for so long, thinking it’ll be refreshing, I’ll clear my head, but then the breeze hits and I feel something drop, and I’m on the dock and it’s so sunny, and my eyes are watering, and I dial my mom. She’s worried, tells me it’ll all be okay, that I’m amazing. I’m Serena. She tells me to buy a nice bottle of wine, go home and make myself dinner, have some chocolate. I’m sobbing on the phone near the dock, and not because I want to. I can’t help it — it feels involuntary. Real. Like I did nothing to move it into being. I just existed.

That’s what I imagine love to feel like. Like it happens to you. So this is happening to me. I hang up, and a homeless man comes up to me, starts telling me his story.

“My name is Tim,” he says, after a while, we shake hands. “I’m going home soon, visiting my mom soon, she’s 87. It’s the right thing to do. I’m not going home just to get a warm bed out of it, or anything. But my husband’s sister is a real bitch,” he turns away from me, swearing. “She wants the whole fucking thing, all of it.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He tells me he’s a drunk and a druggie, something about losing his son and in the car on the way home, his wife looks at him the same way I’m looking at hime (with teary eyes) and she says, “You know, I chose you over him.”

I never hear what happened to his son because he changes it up with a more lighthearted story about this girl named Kimberly, his girlfriend at the time, who took too many shrooms on Halloween.

“How many did you take, I say,” he says, “and she goes, oh I don’t know, 75. So I’m starting to get it. Me and my buddy, we can take up to 100, but it was her first time taking shrooms. So I turn to my buddy and I say, we wait for a bit, as soon as she starts to turn,” he points his thumb over his shoulder, “we high tail it out of there. Because, you know, you never know how somebody is gonna get. I know how I get.” And then he tells me he’ll answer the Big Question, he doesn’t want to, but he will. “Who did I love more, Kimberly or Denise? Denise, who had it all, the money, the nice house, everything? I’ll say I loved Kimberly more, because she… had… heart.”

He offers me a joint. Later he asks me if I smoke. I almost died, he says. We make jokes about his dad building a boat, him working on a shipyard, how the boats today... don’t function? I don’t really get it. “I wish I had that boat,” he points to a boat with people on it docked a few feet away from us. “Even though it’s shittier than the ones we used to build.” “You should just tell them to get off,” I tell him. “Yeah,” he laughs at the image, I laugh at it too. Then he gets all serious again. He almost died from an aneurysm when he was working behind a bar, and he says that’s when it all started falling apart. It’s not my fucking fault, he says, when can I catch a fucking break. I tell him it’s not your fault, meaning it.

“You’re an angel,” he says. “I know it when I see it. I’ll probably see you in heaven.” “I dont really believe in heaven,” I tell him, not to be a smart ass. I tell him that because I want him to convince me it’s real.

“Yeah.” he says. “I wish I could get a sign. I mean, any fucking sign will do. Anything.” He looks up at the sky. But tell me, seriously,” He looks at me. “Why are you so scared?”

“I’m not scared.” I tell him.

He looks at me for a while, then says, “You’re tired. You’re tired of being scared.” He looks at me some more. “But you don’t even know what you’re scared of, do you?”

I start to cry again, but no one around can see my eyes behind the sunglasses I’ve been wearing this whole time. He can though, he’s close enough. He looks at me through the dark lenses.

“It’s okay,” He says. “You’re an angel, I know it. You’re like Pamela Cooper (or some actress, I didn’t get his references. He called me Corey Hart earlier because of the sunglasses). You really are. I was young once. Life is so hard.”

“I have to go home to do an assignment,” I say.

“When are we gonna meet again?”

I give a big shrug, letting my hands drop so they slap my knees. “Around?” I guess.

“We’ll meet in heaven, he says. Because you’re an angel. I know it.”

“Good luck with your mom,” I tell him.

[ecotone99]

[RF/TH]Personal project turned into a (long-ish) short story

Hello fellow readers and redditors! I have always wanted to write a book for myself as a personal "goal". I started writing my story a couple of days ago ended up going down a tangent and ended up creating an alternate ending. So then I cut some stuff, moved things around, reformatted it and bam, made a short story. It is a bit longer than some of the other submissions ive seen (roughly 10-15 mins). Also The plot is a bit all over since it was orignally written for the book and VERY little editing has been done. Please excuse the useless background information, any redundancy and possibly some minor gramatical errors. Regardless, hope you enjoy the read!

As a weary Thursday night grew to a close, Alex Everson stood in front of the old electric stove, waiting as he stirred the pasta for his dinner in the saucepan full of boiling water. Alex lived a fairly quaint life, he didn't have the time or opportunity to invest in a permanent place, furniture, or nice cars, mostly because he frequently moved because of work. This didn't bother Alex because as far back as he could remember, his family always had to move around the country due to his father's job. Alex's father worked for infrastructure all over the country and would have to move around for his work. His father worked long, grueling hours for poor pay, but it was enough for his family to get by. When Alex was born, his parents decided that it would be better for the family to be moving and together, rather than Alex and his mother be settled but split from his father. Alex could not believe how much his parents had given up just so he could experience a somewhat normal childhood. He could experience having both of his parents, rather than having just his mother and rarely interacting with his father. Alex truly loved his parents, in fact, before his mother died due to illness, him and his parents were extremely close. Alex remembered fond memories with his parents as they traveled around the country, experiencing different towns and cities the country had to offer. Sadly, since the death of his mother four years ago, his father had become distant with reality. This made it extremely difficult for Alex to contact his father even through phone. Hearing about the death of his mother was also a major shock to Alex, he was in college at the time for business marketing and hearing this news caused his academic performance to take a complete down-turn. Alex still graduated with his degree, but had failed to keep up with the requirements for his internship, which would have led to a position in national marketing for the top tech company in the United States.

Alex still did managed to do well for himself. He currently worked for a smaller industrial company as a member of the marketing board for their northwestern division. Although this seems like a fairly high-end job, it wasn't as big as it sounds. He only conducted marketing in a small division consisting of a few regions with his other board members. While the national market directors made the big money since they work within the entire country and give advice to guide the smaller boards. Alex made comfortable money, around 70k a year, sometimes closer to 80k if his boss wasn't an ass and gave him the bonuses that was supposed be awarded to him. Although his job involved lots of moving around, he was comfortable with his job. Since he grew up moving all the time, having to create a life, make new friends, and then leaving and starting over had become normal to him. This made him accustomed to moving on and creating new opportunities in new places of the country. Because of this, Alex always tried to rent his place and had a simpler lifestyle to accommodated for the need to pick up and move at a moments notice. As Alex finished stirring the pot of pasta, he slowly drained off the hot water, then added salt and the tomato sauce he warmed up in the microwave to the spaghetti. Normally, Alex would have put a bit more effort into his dinner, but today had been rather difficult at work because of an upcoming project. He wanted to make something simple since it would be easier than going through the trouble of making his normal cuisine.

As Alex finished putting his dinner together, he turned to walk into the living room. Alex had a house that was on the smaller side, one floor with the kitchen and living room separated by a counter, which had a gap so you could pass into the other room. There was a quick transition from carpet to tile to let you know which room you are currently in, or would be entering. Taking a right before you past the counter led down a hallway where there were three rooms, one of which was the main bedroom, then the laundry room, and finally an extra room that Alex used to store his extra stuff like his dumbbells, suitcases and some other odds-and-ends. Alex used to work-out frequently in college, for his 20th birthday his parents bought him a personal set of dumbbells to use. He held onto them because this was the last gift he got before his mother passed away. occasionally he used them just to maintain his shape he got while in college. Alex plopped down onto the edge of the old off brown couch as he dove into his dinner. It was already 8:10pm, so Alex turned on his favorite show, the 8 o'clock news. Nothing interesting usually happened in town, the news was local and most of it consisted of school activities or events that were going on in the community. A community picnic had been scheduled for this coming weekend, but was rescheduled due to the weather predictions calling for heavy thunderstorms. This combined with the drowning patter of the rain outside and the occasional crack of thunder, Alex knew there was no sign of the rain quitting soon, the event would have to be rescheduled.

As Alex sat there, hypnotically twirling his fork, feeding himself spaghetti with his eyes glazed over while he watched the news and listened to the rhythmic hum of the rain outside, he was suddenly startled by a familiar chime. Alex shook his head while coming back to the present, realizing he was still on his couch. It took him a second to notice that the sudden, familiar sound had filled the room. Alex quickly stood up and started searching in-between the couch cushions, followed by searching under the couch for his phone, only to realize that it was in his pocket. He glanced down at his phone as he removed it from his pocket and immediately noticed the familiar name on his screen, "Jake". Alex wondered what Jake needed at this time of night, it was almost 9:00pm now and was preparing to settle in for the night. He slid his finger along the bottom of the screen then placed the phone against his cheek, *"Hello"* muttered Alex. He could tell this was not going to be good news when Jake took a second to respond with a prolonged *"Heyyyy, Alex."*. Jake had been Alex's roommate in college during the junior and senior year. Jake also majored in business and after Alex lost his opportunity with the tech giant, he got and offer from the industrial company, later finding out Jake had interned with them and had gotten a job with them when he graduated. "*What do you need now*" quipped Alex, knowing this was how Jake asked for favors. Jake took a second to respond before he audibly exhaled, then spoke with a hesitant tone. "*Do you remember that pitch due next Friday for boss.*". "*Dont you dare tell me you havent finished that!*" interrupted Alex.

Alex knew from the following silence that this was exactly what happened, Jake forgot about his half of the project. He knew that Jake was unreliable. He learned this from the amount of times he had to help Jake with assignments during college, but he would never believed that something this important would be neglected. This marketing pitch meant everything to Alex. His entire potential future rested on this opportunity and a good pitch usually equaled a raise. Alex was also looking down the barrel of a possible promotion, and this upcoming pitch could catapult him into a better position. The promotion would allow him to stop and settle even though he was still young. Alex could finally take a break from the constant traveling and find a nice place to call his own, not to mention he could finally get back into the dating scene and find a girl that he could spend time with since he had been single for the past two years. Alex listened closely to the next words Jake would mumble, cause he knew they were going to be complete bullshit. *"It's almost done, I just need a few...uhhh... details, yes! Details, thats all."* Alex was angry but not surprised as Jake responded using such a cliche and fake answer. He had almost expected Jake to blow off his part of the pitch and ask for help. Alex was hesitant to respond. Part of him wanted to deny Jake's request so Jake would butcher his part of the pitch, but this opportunity meant to much for Alex's future for him to do that. *"Fine, I'll help you, but only because this is for MY benefit"*, Alex hissed with a bit of anger. Alex didn't mean to sound so angry, he was exhausted from work and angry at the fact that he was now basically doing the entire pitch and Jake was just riding on his coat-tails. He really liked being friends with Jake though, even though he could be thoughtless and unreliable at times. Alex then had to listen to Jake thanking him insistently for what seems like 10 minutes, until Alex said he was going to head over now to help, then hung up his phone. Alex stood up, turned off the T.V, grabbed his empty pasta bowl, walked into the kitchen, put the empty bowl into the sink, then walked towards the side door to grab his raincoat and keys. As he zipped up his rain-coat and pocketed his keys, Alex expected this was going to be a *LONG* night. With that final thought, Alex walked out the door, closed it and turned the lock, then proceeded to his car parked in the driveway. As Alex approached his car, his could hear his boots sloshing in the puddles of rainwater in his driveway. Alex was grateful he had bought a good pair of boots, otherwise his feet would have been completely soaked. It had been borderline monsoon the entire week and being outside for more than a minute without proper clothing would leave you drenched from head to toe. Alex unlocked the doors and entered, getting in quickly to prevent the rainfall from soaking the interior of his car. With the key turning in the ignition, the engine of his 2013 Nissan Versa turned over. Alex threw in into drive and pulled out of his driveway. His next stop, Jake's house.

Jake and Alex live close by each other. they could make it to the others place in just under ten minutes, but since it was a full downpour, Alex had to drive much safer and expected his ride to be closer to half an hour. Alex tried to pass the time by finding some music on the radio, but as he flicked through the stations, he was welcomed only by static. He knew he was going to be in for a long drive. Alex sat trapped in the still, quiet aura that filled his car, mesmerized by the perfectly timed back-and-forth of the windshield wipers as they swished in perfect rhythm. He watched as the vision of the road became clearly visible, then quickly faded, becoming one continuous blur, until the next pass of the wipers repeated this cycle. His mind became completely focused on the road, only briefly noticing blurry brown lines evenly spaced in his vision as he drove down the two-lane highway. After driving for what felt like an eternity, rain still pouring with the same ferocity as before, Alex's focus was pulled off the road when he noticed a small yellow blur. This blur became more and more visible as it became larger on his windshield as he drove down the road and closer to the source of this light. After the next pass of his wipers, he noticed it was the hazard lights of what seemed to be a heavily contorted vehicle, completely bent in all different directions and angles after it had collided head-on into a power-pole. At the sight of this horrendous accident, Alex slammed on the brakes, his Versa screeching as the tires hydroplaned for a few yards before finally gaining grip and halting the vehicle's movement to a stop. Alex jumped out of his car so fast, he felt like he ripped the door off the hinge. The horrible sight that he saw before him left him in udder shock and disbelief. He could not believe how misshapen and shredded apart the car had been. Alex started to believe the worst, he knew that surviving an accident like this was not going to be likely. Alex started to have flashbacks to the night he almost perished, but he knew he needed to stay focused and search for the driver and potential passengers. After Alex had his near death experience, the immense pain he suffered and realizing that he would likely *die* there, laying on the cold concrete, was not an experience he would wish upon any other person. Alex *knew* that if he could prevent the deaths of the victims of this crash, he would try his hardest.

After Alex called 911, he started to search around the pile of mangled metal in order to see if he could find out exactly where the driver seat had disappeared too. After a quick, frantic search, Alex finally managed to find the steering wheel and the driver seat. He had found the driver, a woman, no older than probably her early to mid twenties, was laying unconscious between the driver and passenger seats. There were many small noticeable cuts and blood stains scattered along her clothes. Her face and arms were also badly cut and bruised. Alex tried to drag the unconscious girl out of the metal labyrinth, but it was to no avail. The dashboard had collapsed in during the wreck and was pinning her legs down against the driver seat, preventing Alex from getting her out. He knew he couldn't give up, he had to try within all of his strength and willpower to save this girl from her inevitable death. Alex sprinted back across the road to his car, opening the trunk looking for *anything* he could use to unpin the girls legs. Luckily, Alex remembered he had a car servicing kit in his trunk. After searching the kit, Alex rushed back across the road with a crowbar in his hands. He returned to the unconscious girl and slipped the crowbar in between the driver seat and dashboard, hoping to create enough of a gap to free the girls legs. After exerting all of his might on the crowbar, Alex had not even moved the vice around her legs one bit. Alex took one last look at the girl as he saw her life fade from her body. As he witnessed this, he tried his hardest to revive the girl but it was to no avail. His mind, his resolve was now broken, grief and sorrow flushed over his entire body. Alex *was* broken, he wanted to prevent the death of such a lovely young woman who had her entire life ahead of her. She was now taken away from her family and the world in such a cruel manner. Alex now wished he would have died that night so he would never have had to experience seeing the life fade from a person. he slowly shuffled lifelessly back across the road and back over to his car, sobbing uncontrollably, as he entered his car, he retrieved a small, heavy device from his glove compartment. It was his handgun. Alex began praying that the girl he was unable to save would forgive him and asks that his family would forgive him for being so selfish. He then remembered how he was on his way to help Jake and how now he would leave Jake helpless, but he believed in Jake. Alex knew Jake was a good guy when it came down to the wire. Alex then rested the gun's barrel against his temple and tightened his grip. A sudden flash and a sharp crack filled the air. Alex's imagination became brightly vivid, his memories of his family, his best friend Jake, and the poor girl he was unable to save filled his mind, but just as quickly and brightly these images appeared, they disappeared just as fast, quickly fading into a darkness that descended upon his mind.

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[uzkaaa]

What the heck is Monday Blues?

When you wake up on Monday morning and decide to cycle to office for the first time, because you have been wanting to do it for a week now and nothing, I repeat nothing can stop you! Weather check, done. Balcony is dry, no sign of rain (ignoring grey clouds all over the sky). I am ready! Before I stepped out of the house I am being questioned: Are you sure you want to cycle? I rolled my eyes: Phew, its not gonna rain, I am sure! (Best Monday 7am idea EVER)

I cycled out from the lower basement ( the only hill near and far). It is drizzling! A thought, maybe it is just me who is feeling it, maybe my own sweat is evaporating and in the form of drops landing only on me. Its not funny, I am thinking again. Guards, opened the gate and I know its too late to go back. How would I look?? Like I fear drizzles.  Trying to stay super cool and send message across: Yes dudes, I got this!! Wave at them as sign of thank you for opening the gate (usual gesture) Today it was more like, thanks for everything, not sure if I will see you again! Looking up to the sky, comforting myself. Yaaa, it is not so bad, it is clearing out..

2 mins later.. its efffing pouring cats and dogs. I am cycling down the hill and thinking, should I turn back? The vision of finally cycling to office was stronger than “some” rain & Mordor-ous color clouds ahead of me. Going through underpass. Bumped into an uncle with folding bike waiting under the little roof. I said hi (cyclist do that, no matter what bike are you into - road, folding, hybrid..you know all that jazz). He says “hi” back at me and laughed under his mustache. Like something funny was going on. Except I was in the whirlpool of thoughts and song: Should I stay or should I go? If I stay.. uncles voice puts me back to reality and he starts: I wouldn’t go. This can last for 2-3 hours. I looked at him and blubbered out: I ll be much faster then. I said and began cycling again. But the truth about my decision to cycle further was something else. While uncle was sharing his forecast-cycling-theory, I saw this mid age blonde lady on the hybrid bike, cycling through the rain, struggling, but going and that was it. I can do it too (Let’s struggle together)

15 mins later. Pouring as hell. That moment when you feel droplets are no longer cute, tiny and romantic water elements but bunch of massive mutated bitches whipping your face that it hurts! There is no dry place on me, except of my ass. My thoughts are focusing around waterproof shoes, waterproof coat, waterproof hat, waterproof cover for my backpack all lying somewhere at home. Why I did not take sandals like the guy who over took me just now? Yes, even dude in the sandals and raincoat was faster. Perhaps the fact I carry gallon of rain water in my shoes (EACH), I bet it makes me slower. Attempt for an internal joke, on Monday morning. I am literally talking to myself and wondering how people whine about going to office on Monday and post those supposedly funny gif’s and jokes about Monday blues or “I wish weekend has 3 days”. Well, let me tell you that idea of being in the office as soon as possible never made me happier than today! Cycling like I had a dinner at Szechuan day before and imagining HOT shower I ll take when I reach office. That is how desperately I wanted to be in the office! 

29 mins later. You totally know you are on the same page with other cyclist in the east coast park, when you exchange those silent messages. From the look you can guess, they would just love to abuse the shit out of this weather, but that amount of the water running through faces is enormous, that you rather save the energy for another 5, 10, 15 km to final destination. Not mentioning the strong wind which of course blows in opposite directions, so at some moments you feel you are on stationary bike not 6D reality but 75D all inclusive, you feel everything! The lesson learnt, analyze looks of cyclist, they tend to reveal a lot :D

30 mins later. I am officially wet!!! Top to bottom, with H2O reservoir in my shoes and most probably lake on top of my head, because of the holes in the helmet primarily for seamless flow of the air. Furthermore, it stopped raining! I swear If the rain god exists, must be one funny dude!! 30 minutes of mega droplets, water pouring from each angle, wind from top, front, left and right (just not from the back, to push you a little during this struggle :)). And then, bang! Rainbow, butterflies, sun, almost reaching for sunscreen!! Really, dude? Hitting Gardens by the bay, one cross through the bridge, pass Marina Bay Sands and I am there. This part of the road goes by pretty fast. I am already soaked, with no chance to get dry by the time I reach. My day can get only better from now on! :)

Reached the office lobby, meeting all fancy gentleman and ladies who are ready to kick off the week giving me that look: “Oh poor thing, she is probably still doing IronMan since Saturday.” I am trying to be this invisible blue wet mushroom (matching bike colors) while pushing bike among white collar crowd to the elevator and have it locked. In my head, it goes: I made it, I made it, I made it and for some reason, I can’t stop laughing from all the events have happened since morning. From all the looks exchanges and thoughts! Moreover finally my dream of east coast park being empty came true. LOL! One of the best beginnings of the week and my cycling journey! Almost forgot, the vision of having a hot shower just stayed a vision. Sometimes you dont get to chose, went for the blue! :))

PS: It can only get better from now on! And do not forget to turn negative to positive :) Happy week ahead cycl(one )ists and non-cyclist :) ! Peace and smile!