Chapter Five

Halfway into the next week, I found myself on the subway train at the end of the day as it hurtled through the underground tunnels. Unlike most days, the car held few people and was accordingly quiet. Resting my head on the window, I allowed the vibrations of the train’s movement to coax me into a state of semi-consciousness.

“Where do I get off for Fifth Street?” I heard a woman ask.

Opening one eye, I saw a middle-aged woman standing next to me while she traced train routes with her finger on the subway map tacked to the wall.

“It’s in three stops,” I said softly.

She turned to me, frizzy red hair framing her face. “Did you say something?” she asked.

I repeated myself, figuring she simply didn’t hear me the first time. When the woman didn't respond, I gave her a sideways glance. “Didn’t you ask when to get off for Fifth Street?”

Shaking her head, the woman took a nervous step back, grabbing her black purse from the seat next to me.

“Oh,” I responded and returned my head to its previous position against the window.

A few quick footsteps, the quiet hiss of the door between cars opening and closing, and the woman was gone. Sometimes people tended to act strangely in cities, and I didn’t think much of the woman’s overreaction. Shrugging, I settled back down in my seat and closed my eyes.

Weirdo

That voice I was sure I heard, and my eyes snapped open. They roamed around the car, searching for whoever called me a weirdo. A man and a woman sat in the opposite side of the car, both engaged in a newspaper he held in his hands. Three women sat scattered about the car, reading, sleeping, or talking on a cell phone. Frowning, I looked to my right. A scraggly old man wearing a patched up tweed coat sat near the car’s door, and his beady little eyes narrowed at me. His intense gaze unsettled me, and I looked away. My right knee began bouncing nervously, and the wait for my stop to arrive seemed even longer.

Finally, the train reached my stop, and I rushed past the old man, whose persistent gaze didn’t waver even as I left the train. Snow began to fall as I walked down the sidewalks towards the café. Gazing up at the sky, I smiled at the fluffy snowflakes drifting to the ground, the first snow of the season.

The rich warmth and aroma of the café hit me the moment I walked in the door. I smiled contently and approached the counter where Marlo was busy filling customer’s orders.

“Hey Ella,” he said when my turn came up. “What can I get for you?”

“Just straight black,” I said.

“For here or to-go?”

“Umm,” I said, debating the choices quickly in my head, “to-go.”

He nodded and turned, grabbing a portable coffee cup and filling it with coffee.

“That’ll be 1.25,” he said, setting the coffee cup on the counter.

Shoving my hands in the pockets of my coat, I searched for the couple dollar bills I knew I put in there earlier that day.

God, she’s beautiful.

I froze and looked up at Marlo wide-eyed. “What?” my voice squeaked out.

He looked up from a pad of paper he had been writing on. “Hmm?” he asked, his eyebrows rising slightly.

“Didn’t you just say something?” I asked, sure of the voice I had heard.

Marlo slowly shook his head. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Oh,” I said softly. My brows furrowed and I went back to counting the assortment of bills and coins I had unearthed from my pockets. Finding a dollar bill and five nickels, I handed them to Marlo.

He took them, depositing them in the register, and tilted his head to the side. “Are you ok?”

A voluminous sigh escaped my lips and I pressed the palms of my hands against my eyes. Multi-colored spots speckled my vision.

“Yeah,” I said finally. “I’m just tired.”

Tired enough to believe I was hearing voices. The idea flew into my head quickly and I dismissed it just as quickly. Fatigue would do funny things to a person’s mind.

“Ok, take care,” he said.

I grabbed my coffee, gave him a parting wave, and left the café.

---

The next day I woke feeling fresh, all worries from yesterday completely vacant from my mind. Inhaling a lungful of crisp November air, I moved briskly down the sidewalk on my way to the college campus. Reaching the end of an intersection, I waited for the light to change along with the dozen other men and women around me. The adjacent light turned yellow, and I adjusted my backpack, bouncing on the heels of my feet, ready to go.

I just had to open my big mouth this morning.

My heart painfully skipped a beat as the voice caught me off guard; and as everybody crossed the street, I stayed rooted to the ground, trying to calm my sporadic breathing. There I stayed until the light changed again, and a new group of people collected at the corner. Hugging myself, I waited to cross the street. All bright thoughts that started me off this morning slipped away, leaving an empty void that began to fill with dread.

Would I soon add, “hearing voices,” to the growing repertoire of strange things happening to me? Something inside of me told me that I already had.

I arrived at class with ten minutes to spare and grabbed a school newspaper from the stand by the door. Taking a seat in the middle of the sea of chairs, I opened the paper and waited for class to start.

I had worked my way through half of a crossword puzzle by the time the professor showed up, late as usual. He apologized quickly and began the lecture by placing overheads filled with scrawled writing on the projector. Not in the mood for anything other than hiding in bed, I halfheartedly jotted down notes on oceanic currents.

Thirty minutes…thirty minutes until class ends. I can make it.

Sucking in a sharp breath, my pencil dropped from my hand and clinked to the floor. The person sitting next to me sent me a sideways glance before returning to his note taking. Reaching down, I groped around for my pencil. Finding it, I sat back up and returned to the doodle that consumed the bottom half of my paper instead of notes.

I’m hungry.

Biting my lip, I ignored the voice and drew a row of daisies next to the house I created in my notes.

This class blows. I need to get out of here.

The voice floated through my head, echoing in my ears, and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening them, I refocused on the professor lecturing on how water temperature affects the ocean’s currents.

What time is it?

Blowing a strand of hair out of my face, I buried one of my hands in my hair and grabbed a fistful of hair. Tears of frustration formed at the corners of my eyes, and I wiped them away with the back of my hand. Closing my eyes, I took a slow breath in and let it out just as slowly. I was not going crazy.

He’s hot. I wonder what he’d do if I ‘accidentally’ dropped my pencil.

Slamming my notebook shut, I hastily grabbed my bag and stumbled through the row of people, nearly tripping over somebody bending over to pick something up from the floor. Once in the aisle running up the middle of the room, I ran out of the lecture hall, out of the building, and halfway home before I slowed down at an intersection. Huffing and puffing, I rested my hands on my knees and forced myself to take deep breaths to still the short gasps that caught in my throat.

What’s wrong with her?

The scathing voice seemed to almost taunt me, and I jerked away from the mass of people around me, running in the opposite direction. Dodging people on the sidewalk, I sprinted down the street and turned the corner. I continued down this street and the next through construction workers, people walking dogs, and mothers pushing strollers.

She’s in a hurry, I heard turning a corner a block from my apartment.

Quickening my pace, I sped down the street until I finally reached the door to my building. Throwing it open, I ran down the hallway and nearly crashed into my door.

“Ella dear, are you all right?”

My neighbor, Mrs. Wilcott, stood outside her door, ready to leave, as I tried to jam my key into the lock on my door.

I nodded, still gasping. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, her small purse clutched in her hands as she walked over to me. “You’re awfully out of breath.”

I tried to slow my breathing and articulate an answer. “Yeah…I was just…out for a jog.”

A small smile formed on Mrs. Wilcott’s slightly wrinkled features and she patted me affectionately on the arm. “Well, then you have a good day.”

Forcing a smile, I nodded as she disappeared around the corner. With a deep breath, I managed to get my key in the lock and the door open. Once inside my apartment, I closed the door, locked it, and dropped my bag to the floor. Numbly, I headed into my bedroom, climbed into bed, and threw my blankets over my head.

Today had never happened.

---

A week passed and the voices continued their relentless intrusion of my thoughts. Everywhere I went I heard snippets of dialogue from these voices, some obviously directed at me. The constant presence nearly drove me mad.

“Excuse me, miss.” I looked up and saw a frail elderly woman standing in the aisle of the subway train I currently rode.

“Yes?”

“Is this seat taken?” She indicated the vacant seat next to me currently occupied by my bag.

“No,” I said, transferring my bag to my lap.

She smiled her thanks and sat down next to me. From the canvas bag she carried, she produced two knitting needles and a partially finished knit cap. I propped my elbow on the window, resting my head in my hand, and listened to the rhythmic clicking and clacking of her needles. The subway train hurtled down the track, pausing at each stop for a few moments to let passengers on or off the train. Halfway home, the car began to fill up and the peaceful quiet relented to the dull murmur of a large group of people.

I hope I get the job.

God, could this train move any slower?

First the blue, then the pink, and then the green.

Slowly, the voices began their gradual infiltration of my thoughts.

Pasta or rice? Pasta or rice? Pasta or rice?

Fucking hell this man smells like shit. Does he not know how to shower?

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly and forced myself to stay calm and think of nothing. Midway through last week, I had been in the middle of a class when the voices flared up. They had been so intense I had nearly lost it. However, something in me, perhaps intuition, told me to calm my breathing and my thoughts. Moment by moment, the voices had faded away. Every time the voices appeared, I tried that technique, getting extremely inconsistent results. Only one other time had I stopped the voices completely. Yet, I always tried in hopes of making them go away again.

She’s pretty; I wonder if she has a boyfriend.

Sometimes I don’t understand him.

Why am I here?

Slow and steady breaths went in and out of my lungs and I forced calming thoughts into my stream of consciousness.

Where’s that dollar bill I had earlier?

Stupid idiot.

I’m gonna kill the bastard.

A sharp puff of air escaped my nose and I broke my concentration. Opening my eyes, I rubbed my eyes and consented to stare out the window for the rest of the way, letting the stream of voices enter my mind.

“Excuse me,” I said to the elderly lady when my stop came up. She shifted her legs around to let me pass.

Off the train and in the cold city air, I quickly walked to my building, deciding to pass up a trip to the café.

I wish Derek would call.

Adjusting my ponytail, I continued walking.

We are, we are…the youth of the nation.

I cocked my head to the side slightly, almost amused. Song lyrics. That was a first. Arriving at my building, I held the door for a young man before entering myself.

If I can get mom to sign my slip, then I’ll get to go.

Once inside my apartment, I sighed with relief. Peace and quiet filled my senses and I fully welcomed it. Walking into my tiny excuse of a kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and rifled through the Tupperware containers of leftovers on the shelves. I heard nothing but the gentle hum of the fridge and ticking from my clock as I popped the container in the microwave and set it to ‘reheat.’ I leant against my counter as my food cooked. A red light flashed on my answering machine, and I debated whether or not to listen to it. Dinner decided for me, as it chose to be finished at that moment. Grabbing a fork, I sat down at my table and dug in.

Chewing slowly, I thought back to the voices I heard earlier that day, and a strange idea popped into my head. Frowning in contemplation, I paused, fork midair, to let the thought fully form. Moments passed in absolute silent before my fork clattered to my plate, and I raced out of the apartment, grabbing my keys at the last moment.

Damn, the NASDAQ went down again.

I watched as a man in an expensive-looking black suit and wool coat walked past. In his hands he held the stock market section of the newspaper. Smiling, the idea became more concrete.

Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!

A school-aged girl skipped past with her mother in tow.

Come on, pick up, Molly.

Two women walked by, one holding a cell phone to her ear. The other glanced at me as she passed and smiled. I smiled back, certain my thoughts were on the right track. Turning around, I returned inside. Silence returned in heaping amounts when I entered my apartment, and I returned to my quickly cooling dinner, smiling the entire time.

People’s thoughts. I was hearing people’s thoughts.

---

Author’s Note: I know, I didn't update last week. Well, all my writings went on a week long hiatus. Simply put, I needed a little break. Anyways, thanks for reading. I hope you’re enjoying this story. Please review. I’d like to know what people think. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

-Nifty