A strange day indeed.
Freckly big-eyed girls scrutinizing me; with disturbing semblance to turkey vultures. Autumn No-Last-Name appearing out of nowhere. My backpack being stolen straight out off my back. The criminal running away like a mad rabbit and disolving into no place. The idiotic victim standing on the sidewalk, lost in a city he thought he knew front to back, side to side. Maybe I missed the corner to corners. I was trying to take deep, calming breaths, but each time I inhaled, some invisible force would whack me in the chest and cause all my beautiful oxygen to disappear.
I let myself drop onto a nearby bench. I must be some sort of loser to not catch up with a girl who's got a heavy backpack to tend to. This must be why Dad likes to stay from the house all the time. To stay away from women and their crazy notions. I sighed.
"Where's your mommy, little boy? Are you lost?"
I jumped in my seat. An old man was sitting next to me on the bench. Where the heck did he come from? He smiled, displaying a mouth full of rotting teeth. I inched nervously away, staring at his atrocious fangs, muttering as politely as I could, "Um, no." He nodded jovially, grabbed his cane, and walked away, fading away as fog creeped all too suddenly over the landscape. Fog ... okay, where the heck did the fog, and the man come from?
Might as well find a payphone and get away from this freaky place.
Jingling my pockets a little less than merrily, I got up from the bench and searched for a payphone. Just my luck. An old and rusted payphone peeked out at me between the walls of two different stone buildings; it was a dark alley way right next to my bench, which I hadn't noticed was there before. Why do I never notice all these weird things? Why do they just pop up? Maybe I'm not paying attention.
Or maybe they were never really there, and they just come into being when I least expect it.
The payphone swayed eerily in the early spring breezes. I blinked. Swaying? Early spring breezes? I shook my head violently, and the hazy aura surrounding the phone was gone. The air was still.
I'm hallucinating, I thought, fascinated. Someone come and call an asylum so I can spend the rest of my days bouncing off rubber walls and imagining that payphones sway in imaginary winds.
And then it happened again. The payphone shimmered and faded, its edges softening. My hand instinctively rose and rubbed across my eyes. Maybe I was knocked silly. Gary whatever-his-name-is hit me pretty hard across the face during lunch today when I didn't give him my skateboard. I'll sue that asshole for my brain damage once I figure this out.
The wind came back, stronger this time, and I shivered, drawing my jacket closer. I couldn't take it. Usually, in the weirdest moments, I can manage a smile or a comment to brighten the atmosphere; or at least brighten things for myself. But now, my light was gone.
"This isn't funny anymore!" I shouted at the phone (I must have truly looked insane). I kicked its side, cursing the pain that shot through my toe. "What the hell do you want from me? What do you want! What!"
I expected someone to laugh at the boy who was yelling at payphones in alleys. I excepted odd looks. But I suddenly realized that the street was empty. No one was there; everyone had disappered. Even the trees that I remember lining the sidewalk were gone. No wait. Not gone.
Dead.
My heart stopped beating. I backed away from the sidewalk, from the alley, from the dead trees, and stood in the middle of the street. It was like a ghost town. Broken bottles decomposing in the gutters. Shattered windows and homes infested with flies. Car with popped tires and scratched sides littering the area. And not a living thing in sight. Except for me.
I turned back to the payphone, and gave a yelp.
It was gone. Autumn was standing where it had been, a smile inching on her face. I immediately began running, but somehow, she caught up and pulled my arm. I jerked and tumbled backward, knocking her over and causing my arm to twisted painfully. With the rest of the air I could muster, I rolled over and tried to scamper away, but she quickly seized my ankle.
I fell, feeling my knees scrape the concrete. Struggling wildly, I kicked her several times in face before she leaped onto top of me and pressed my head to the floor, gasping for air.
Ow.
"Stop moving!" she said abruptly. I did as I was told. Her breath was coming in short, and she sounded like she was crying. Startled at this human behavior, I tried to look at her but she pressed my head down harder and I knew it was hopeless.
She laughed harshly. "Now do you see what it's like, Caster?" Autumn spat bitterly. "See what's it's like up there?"
"Luk wer?" I said in a muffled voice. "An ib Cawt-ooor, naw Cawteeer - "
"Shut up."
She got off me and held out her hand, pulling me up. I limped upward, very bruised but otherwise not feeling hurt; I'd experienced worse from my mother. Autumn, however, had a black eye blooming around the left side of her face. I probably kicked her too hard. Tears were running down her face, but she ignored them.
"You alright?" she said gruffly. I said yes, and she returned it with a quick nod. After a while, it was quiet; she glared at me and I tried to keep her gaze.
"So," I said awkwardly, "up where? What were you talking about?"
Autumn smiled; it was a real smile this time, and her face brightened up considerablely. She pointed to the sky.
"Up there."