Waking up on a cold, hard floor was not Macy's idea of a good morning, especially when she didn't remember falling asleep on one the night before. Waking up in strange places with no memory of how she got there wasn't entirely unusual. While her fiction of a normal life had her working as the average, careless college grad working as a receptionist at a doctor's office, the reality was anything but normal. She was a creature of instinct, but her instincts were always most in tune after taking in mass quantities of alcohol. Though she never knew entirely how it worked, it always did.
Last night she was contacted by a man who was pale as snow, almost passing for albino were it not for his crystal gray eyes. He was looking for a girl. It was imperative that he find her before it was too late. He didn't go into much detail, but Macy was used to this kind of thing. Whenever someone went missing the assumption was often that something horrible was going to happen. More often than not it turned out that the missing person wanted to disappear all along.
This time was different. The person in question was a young woman who had no apparent identity at all. She had done her background research, but it seemed this girl just spontaneously existed about five years ago. The girl's background was completely obscured so even those pursuing her history by supernatural means were thrown off the trail. This child went suddenly missing three years after she was found. No reports were filed or anything. Just as mysteriously as she appeared, she had disappeared. Now someone who claimed to be related was looking for her. While Macy didn't have much hope, it at least proved to be a case with potential to be interesting.
Macy's whole body was screaming. She must have been there for quite some time to be so stiff and rigid. She picked herself up and looked around the room to try and get some sense or remembrance of where she was. The floor was pale marble tile. It appeared to be some kind of reception room, white couches, white drapes on the windows, everything almost glowing in the sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains beneath the drawn drapes. Straight ahead of her was a reception desk. The seat behind it held a petite vixen of a woman who barely offered Macy a glance.
"What is this place?" she asked as she approached the desk. "Where am I?"
The receptionist sneered, not looking up from the papers on her desk. Macy had to repeat the question before she got a response at all. In a dry, unamused tone the woman replied, "You're in the market. I would suggest you state your business or leave. You're lucky I didn't report you for your little episode earlier. Dramatically fainting on our floor is normally not acceptable behavior. You're pretty enough, so I didn't bother to report you."
This got a raised eyebrow from Macy, but she thought better of asking what being pretty had to do with anything. There was more important work to be doing here. "Where can I get into the market?"
The receptionist actually looked up at this. She turned back to her papers and answered, "You can't enter. You're human."
"Of course I'm human," Macy stated as though it were the only logical possibility. It was, wasn't it? "What does that have to do with entering?"
"You could enter, I suppose, but you'd do so at your own risk."
"What's that supposed to mean? What do they sell in there?"
"Do you really want to know?" At this the receptionist turned to Macy and smiled sweetly. Something about the false innocence in her dark brown eyes did not comfort Macy in the least.
"Yes," she said hesitantly, wondering if somehow she would regret asking. She usually did.
"People." The receptionist seemed rather amused to give this answer. It wasn't clear whether her response was truthful or not. "We are in the business of selling humans. Stick around. I'm sure you'd fetch a lovely price with those baby blues and that blond hair."
Something about that woman's voice told Macy she was telling the truth. While things like this seemed the stuff of movies, Macy knew they were far more of a reality than anyone wanted to admit. Most of the time they were nothing more than a collection of prostitutes renting themselves out, but every now and again they were something more. It was rare, but there were some known markets that kidnapped people to sell into slavery. There was even a club downtown where members of the S&M scene would buy and sell their slaves, though a majority of the community frowns upon such behaviors. Still, Macy had long ago learned that sometimes it's best not to question.
Feeling like something was left unresolved, Macy decided it was best to leave. She didn't want to risk getting mixed up in one of those rings. There was too much risk involved. Even so, something had drawn her there.
Stepping out into the alley way was almost shocking. While the inside had been bright and pristine, the door lead out into a dingy, dark, dirty alleyway. The sun couldn't possibly be coming in through the window as she imagined. The building next door was blocking all the sunlight. Turning to face the door behind her, it was nothing but a small, metal, rusted backstage kind of an entrance. She thought she had remembered the door being an elegant...well...something. She couldn't entirely remember.
It was strange, but with each step away from the building, she forgot more and more details. At first she talked herself down on the idea of the sunlight through the windows. It must have been fluorescent lights. It wasn't clean and white either. It must have been more dingy. The beautiful vixen of a woman became some old and frail looking woman to her mind. Before long she was remembering it as some seedy dive of a brothel hidden away behind some shop or another, she wasn't even sure which one. Come to think of it, she couldn't even remember what she went there for.
Suddenly remembering that she would be late for work again, Macy thought it best to hurry home and change. She was supposed to come in during the afternoon, and if she hurried home to get changed and shower she should make it just in time. Before she even realized where she was, she had already come down the steps to the subway station.
Searching for her subway card meant practically turning out her pockets. Digging through her pants pockets she found a collection of random things. There was a small collection of coins, a couple of bills, some random business cards, and a hair clip, none of it terribly useful. Her jacket, however, turned out to be much more useful. The card was in her inner left pocket, wrapped in a couple pieces of note paper. Curious, she looked at the papers.
The outer one read:
You've forgotten everything that's happened tonight, I'm sure. This is the way they wanted it. They don't enjoy being caught by mere mortals. Whatever you do, don't go back there. They won't likely let you leave the next time.
It wasn't signed and the handwriting was unfamiliar. It didn't trigger any thoughts, sensations, or memories. In truth, the whole thing felt empty. Usually Macy could pull some kind of memory, or at least some vague feeling from things, but this was different. It felt completely unfamiliar.
The second note was much shorter and in a very familiar hand. It read:
Note To Self: I've found her. They have the girl.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Playing with an Intro
"Where the hell have you been, Allie?" The male voice boomed from the back of the house. She swore she could feel him storming down the hall towards her. "You were supposed to get off work at six. What the hell are you doing getting in after ten?"
"Chill, Gabe," Alenka called in response, casually tossing her keys down on the table beside the door. "I had to work late. Would you believe Macy was a no-show again? Ugh! I don't know why they haven't fired her yet! She never does her job. She's always calling out. What's the sense in having her on payroll if I'm just going to end up doing her job?"
Surprisingly there weren't footsteps in the hall, nor was Gabe up in her face, accusing her of heaven only knows what this time. The last two times Allie was met with accusations of being with some other guy, to which she had to remind Gabe they were just room mates. The time before that he said he'd thought someone had mugged her and left her for dead. She didn't want to tell him that strangely there was some truth to the matter, but the would-be mugger was deterred pretty easily when a cop just happened to pull up asking about teenagers in the area. By the time she finished answering his questions, the man was gone.
Hanging her coat and purse on the coat rack, she continued, "Then I ran into some friends at the food court in the mall. We haven't talked in years! We decided to grab some coffee and got completely sidetracked. I'm sorry. I never would have run into them if I didn't get a call about that book I ordered. They got it in today."
There was a metallic sound of mini-blinds, probably meaning Gabe had just moved away from peering out the window. She started down the hall to their shared office space, wondering just what he was at. "You're supposed to call. I was expecting you home from work hours ago. I'm sure you could have at least taken thirty seconds out of your conversation to text me, give me some warning."
Just as she had suspected, there he was, still standing in front of the window, leaning on it's sill as though someone had just informed him a family member had died. He was always this kind of melodramatic. His long dark hair cascaded down around his face so nothing but a dark mop could be seen from behind. He had the classic look of a industrial club kid, black band shirt, Tripp pants, and boots. While he wasn't tall, but he was lean and strong, not someone she'd want to pick a fight with, but knew that his sense of honor was too strong to ever worry about it.
"Gabe," she said, trying not to sound irritated, "I'm sorry I didn't let you know, but we're just room mates. It's rather endearing that you're looking out for me, but if you think it will get you somewhere, you already know where that one's going to go."
"You don't understand, Allie! There are people out there who would love to hurt you!"
"Please, stop being so paranoid."
"I'm not being paranoid! While you're out gallivanting with your friends, I'm at home getting things done! I'm starting to think you don't appreciate me!"
"What is this really about?" She couldn't stop annoyance from creeping into her voice. "You're being absolutely ridiculous! What could you possibly be getting done that's so incredibly important that you couldn't manage without me?"
Gabe shifted awkwardly, then he turned to face her, "I was doing research. Look, Allie, it's not important. They found a body in the elevator on the subway near the office, brown hair, blond highlights, green eyes. She didn't have any ID so she's listed as a Jane Doe. Allie, I could have sworn that woman was you."
"Chill, Gabe," Alenka called in response, casually tossing her keys down on the table beside the door. "I had to work late. Would you believe Macy was a no-show again? Ugh! I don't know why they haven't fired her yet! She never does her job. She's always calling out. What's the sense in having her on payroll if I'm just going to end up doing her job?"
Surprisingly there weren't footsteps in the hall, nor was Gabe up in her face, accusing her of heaven only knows what this time. The last two times Allie was met with accusations of being with some other guy, to which she had to remind Gabe they were just room mates. The time before that he said he'd thought someone had mugged her and left her for dead. She didn't want to tell him that strangely there was some truth to the matter, but the would-be mugger was deterred pretty easily when a cop just happened to pull up asking about teenagers in the area. By the time she finished answering his questions, the man was gone.
Hanging her coat and purse on the coat rack, she continued, "Then I ran into some friends at the food court in the mall. We haven't talked in years! We decided to grab some coffee and got completely sidetracked. I'm sorry. I never would have run into them if I didn't get a call about that book I ordered. They got it in today."
There was a metallic sound of mini-blinds, probably meaning Gabe had just moved away from peering out the window. She started down the hall to their shared office space, wondering just what he was at. "You're supposed to call. I was expecting you home from work hours ago. I'm sure you could have at least taken thirty seconds out of your conversation to text me, give me some warning."
Just as she had suspected, there he was, still standing in front of the window, leaning on it's sill as though someone had just informed him a family member had died. He was always this kind of melodramatic. His long dark hair cascaded down around his face so nothing but a dark mop could be seen from behind. He had the classic look of a industrial club kid, black band shirt, Tripp pants, and boots. While he wasn't tall, but he was lean and strong, not someone she'd want to pick a fight with, but knew that his sense of honor was too strong to ever worry about it.
"Gabe," she said, trying not to sound irritated, "I'm sorry I didn't let you know, but we're just room mates. It's rather endearing that you're looking out for me, but if you think it will get you somewhere, you already know where that one's going to go."
"You don't understand, Allie! There are people out there who would love to hurt you!"
"Please, stop being so paranoid."
"I'm not being paranoid! While you're out gallivanting with your friends, I'm at home getting things done! I'm starting to think you don't appreciate me!"
"What is this really about?" She couldn't stop annoyance from creeping into her voice. "You're being absolutely ridiculous! What could you possibly be getting done that's so incredibly important that you couldn't manage without me?"
Gabe shifted awkwardly, then he turned to face her, "I was doing research. Look, Allie, it's not important. They found a body in the elevator on the subway near the office, brown hair, blond highlights, green eyes. She didn't have any ID so she's listed as a Jane Doe. Allie, I could have sworn that woman was you."
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The First
Nothing screams of intimacy more than the scattered pieces one leaves in their wake. There are so many moments that long to be touched, caressed, loved. There is so much truth and honesty in those moments, even ones filled with lies and deceit. There is so much loss.
Looking at my own past, I can see where it all began. Family, friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, potential lovers that I never dared to seek a bond of intimacy, they've all been left behind like so many dead flowers. I never thought much of it before, but it speaks clearly of me. I'm the kind of person that leaves things behind easily when I'm not finding what I need in them. More often than not, I leave them out of fear that I will find exactly what I need.
Isn't that how things go with life? One minute you're feeling like you're on the top of the world, the next you're falling through a window pane, hoping the fall won't be too far and you won't find your landing on shards of broken glass. There's never a place in between. There's never a place of peaceful calm, where everything just is. There's always something happening to slingshot us between one extreme and the other.
This is how I kind of feel with my own past. There are so many opportunities left behind. I can't even begin to count the regrets I've had in my past.
It all truly started with this girl. I had been laying across her lap while she delicately stroked my hair. This wasn't the first time we'd sat together like this, her sitting on the floor with me somehow draped across her. Her hands were always in my hair, stroking it gently, twisting it between her fingers, or sometimes just buried in the brown and gold locks. Each day I found myself wanting nothing more than to be close to her. We would sit there for hours. I would gaze up at her and she would look down at me now and again with a smile as we talked to our friends. It was so comfortable. It felt so right. I can't even begin to count the number of times I just wanted to sit up and kiss her, softly, delicately, innocently. I had imagined her lips being as soft as rose petals, caressing her ivory pale skin and entangling my fingers in her curly dark hair. My mind never wandered farther as my thoughts were always interrupted by our little party breaking up. I had felt the compelling desire to kiss a girl before her, but it was never like this. I'd even had a girlfriend, but it wasn't like this. With this girl, it was like an addiction. I needed her and I could never figure why.
Out of fear I let that opportunity slip away. It's one of the many marks in my book of opportunities missed, times when everything went utterly wrong. If only I hadn't been so afraid of my own emotions!
Just a couple years back I met another man. I honestly can't say what it was about him. When I met him I was quite irritated by him. He was a know-it-all kind of guy. He made me feel like an idiot, yet somehow he was always telling me how incredibly intelligent I was. He seemed to think I could somehow function on his level, though to this day I have my doubts. I can't say what it is about him. Perhaps it's his eyes. Perhaps it's the fact that I feel so safe when I'm in his arms. It feels right, like I've finally found my home. It's like somehow we're just meant to be together, and I don't understand it. A part of me thinks we'd kill each other were we ever in a relationship. I'd get sick of feeling like I wasn't smart enough for him. I'd hate being shown up by someone more brilliant than I am. Still, a part of me is drawn to him and wants nothing more than to be in his arms. I just don't get the magnetism, the sway he seems to hold over me.
It wasn't that long ago that I saw him with another woman. It came out not to long after that he was involved with her. I felt a sense of jealousy I couldn't explain. That woman wasn't good enough for him! She couldn't have him! He was supposed to be my knight in shining armor. He was supposed to rescue me, to whisk me off and keep me safe from the world. Don't ask me where all of that came from. At the time I didn't stop to think about it, but in hindsight, it does sound rather ridiculous. Even now, just the thought of me ends with this strange sensation that I want to call him no matter what time of night just to hear his voice and talk about things I only half understand. I want him to come visit and to hold me in his arms, complain that he doesn't like the new hair style, and otherwise prove to me how we're no match made in heaven, yet somehow make me realize that we're exactly what the other one needs. It's twisted and backwards, but somehow it all makes so much sense. I just wish I knew how!
Then there's the friend I spoke with tonight. He's the kind of guy who always keeps me smiling. No matter how grim things get, he can always cheer me up. When I'm depressed to the point I want to cry, I hate the world, and everything is gray, he comes out of nowhere saying some little thing or another that makes me want to hug him for being such a wonderful friend. He scares me more than I can admit. I can open up to him and show him who I truly am, but I'm also afraid it's all going to blow up in my face. I'm afraid all of that will be taking a trip down the rabbit hole that I can never return from. My whole world will become warped and strange.
These are the kinds of people that inspire me. These people are my story. Without them, my life would be a whole lot less confusing. I would know what I wanted and would perhaps have my happily ever after. These are the people who cause me to tear holes in my life, ripping free of the chains that hold me back, daring me to do something new and challenging.
Right now the door before me is open. Possibility waits at every turn. What will happen when I step beyond? Only time will tell.
Looking at my own past, I can see where it all began. Family, friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, potential lovers that I never dared to seek a bond of intimacy, they've all been left behind like so many dead flowers. I never thought much of it before, but it speaks clearly of me. I'm the kind of person that leaves things behind easily when I'm not finding what I need in them. More often than not, I leave them out of fear that I will find exactly what I need.
Isn't that how things go with life? One minute you're feeling like you're on the top of the world, the next you're falling through a window pane, hoping the fall won't be too far and you won't find your landing on shards of broken glass. There's never a place in between. There's never a place of peaceful calm, where everything just is. There's always something happening to slingshot us between one extreme and the other.
This is how I kind of feel with my own past. There are so many opportunities left behind. I can't even begin to count the regrets I've had in my past.
It all truly started with this girl. I had been laying across her lap while she delicately stroked my hair. This wasn't the first time we'd sat together like this, her sitting on the floor with me somehow draped across her. Her hands were always in my hair, stroking it gently, twisting it between her fingers, or sometimes just buried in the brown and gold locks. Each day I found myself wanting nothing more than to be close to her. We would sit there for hours. I would gaze up at her and she would look down at me now and again with a smile as we talked to our friends. It was so comfortable. It felt so right. I can't even begin to count the number of times I just wanted to sit up and kiss her, softly, delicately, innocently. I had imagined her lips being as soft as rose petals, caressing her ivory pale skin and entangling my fingers in her curly dark hair. My mind never wandered farther as my thoughts were always interrupted by our little party breaking up. I had felt the compelling desire to kiss a girl before her, but it was never like this. I'd even had a girlfriend, but it wasn't like this. With this girl, it was like an addiction. I needed her and I could never figure why.
Out of fear I let that opportunity slip away. It's one of the many marks in my book of opportunities missed, times when everything went utterly wrong. If only I hadn't been so afraid of my own emotions!
Just a couple years back I met another man. I honestly can't say what it was about him. When I met him I was quite irritated by him. He was a know-it-all kind of guy. He made me feel like an idiot, yet somehow he was always telling me how incredibly intelligent I was. He seemed to think I could somehow function on his level, though to this day I have my doubts. I can't say what it is about him. Perhaps it's his eyes. Perhaps it's the fact that I feel so safe when I'm in his arms. It feels right, like I've finally found my home. It's like somehow we're just meant to be together, and I don't understand it. A part of me thinks we'd kill each other were we ever in a relationship. I'd get sick of feeling like I wasn't smart enough for him. I'd hate being shown up by someone more brilliant than I am. Still, a part of me is drawn to him and wants nothing more than to be in his arms. I just don't get the magnetism, the sway he seems to hold over me.
It wasn't that long ago that I saw him with another woman. It came out not to long after that he was involved with her. I felt a sense of jealousy I couldn't explain. That woman wasn't good enough for him! She couldn't have him! He was supposed to be my knight in shining armor. He was supposed to rescue me, to whisk me off and keep me safe from the world. Don't ask me where all of that came from. At the time I didn't stop to think about it, but in hindsight, it does sound rather ridiculous. Even now, just the thought of me ends with this strange sensation that I want to call him no matter what time of night just to hear his voice and talk about things I only half understand. I want him to come visit and to hold me in his arms, complain that he doesn't like the new hair style, and otherwise prove to me how we're no match made in heaven, yet somehow make me realize that we're exactly what the other one needs. It's twisted and backwards, but somehow it all makes so much sense. I just wish I knew how!
Then there's the friend I spoke with tonight. He's the kind of guy who always keeps me smiling. No matter how grim things get, he can always cheer me up. When I'm depressed to the point I want to cry, I hate the world, and everything is gray, he comes out of nowhere saying some little thing or another that makes me want to hug him for being such a wonderful friend. He scares me more than I can admit. I can open up to him and show him who I truly am, but I'm also afraid it's all going to blow up in my face. I'm afraid all of that will be taking a trip down the rabbit hole that I can never return from. My whole world will become warped and strange.
These are the kinds of people that inspire me. These people are my story. Without them, my life would be a whole lot less confusing. I would know what I wanted and would perhaps have my happily ever after. These are the people who cause me to tear holes in my life, ripping free of the chains that hold me back, daring me to do something new and challenging.
Right now the door before me is open. Possibility waits at every turn. What will happen when I step beyond? Only time will tell.
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