I hope you’re doing alright. I never used pepper spray before and didn’t know how it worked. But I saw your evil before you saw me standing there and you came rushing towards me. A black aura stands out to people that see them. I told you twice to stop but you wouldn’t listen. I was forced to protect a building you had no reason to be in. You saw me recognize you, that’s why you looked at me. Then it hit you directly into your eyes. I saw the stream of burning orange go into your opened evil eyes. You gasped and mumbled in the deep groan “oh, god” and you turned away from me while I emptied the small vile out on the back of your neck and ears. I was still on the phone with the police, she heard everything. I gave her the address again, the address you were told to never come back to last year. Remember that? You broke out a window. You were there to terrorize a woman. But while you were bent over in burning agonizing pain I asked you politely to leave the property and once again you ignored my order. Cursing me. So I kicked you across the parking lot into the bushes. I kept kicking you, unleashing the evil I’d dug up from the hidden depths of my memories. You couldn’t stand or even see where you were going. Would you have let up on the woman you were there to beat? You wouldn’t and neither was I.
I saw the fear in you as you tried to get away from me. I saw your face. I can’t get it out of my mind. You tried to find a path, a way out from the burning pepper spray and the sudden violent attack on you. You crawled out from the bushes you tried to escape through and grabbed handfuls of grass while you pulled yourself farther away from me up the embankment. For a while I felt bad for you, almost sorry I had to hurt another human being. But then I remembered why it happened. You were only there to beat up on a woman. The same woman who tried to hide the black eye you gave her. I saw it, I knew it was you no matter how hard she tried to say the door hit her. You returned several other times to attack her. No one had to tell me, you left something only a few can see. Something I can see. The entire building of retirees and handicapped are afraid you will do something to them. They moved here to get away from people like you. You kept coming back, only your luck ran out this time. The look I saw in your face as I kicked you across the parking lot, your burning eyes you couldn’t open, that must have been how the lady you kept beating felt. The one who hid from you, the one who lied about her black eye. She couldn’t get away, she was over powered just like you were. I don’t feel sorry for you anymore, or care about the fear I saw in your face as you tried to get away from me. I will do it again. I know you’re coming back. Except this time I will enjoy watching your fear. I will enjoy giving you the same beating she received from you. The only thing I might feel bad about is not ending you. I want you to endure the physical and mental pain the rest of your life. I’m going to escort you to your grave.
I’m off work this week. I take a week off every year and do all my doctors stuff and lay around being a filthy lazy pig most of all. Sometimes you will always see the same number, or person, or color, etc. This week I’ve been out every day in traffic all over the city. Maroon mini vans are every where I go. They’re all different models but still, they’re maroon colored minivans. I had to fast for 12 hours to take blood tests this morning. I felt tired before arriving and thought it would just be a few minutes and I could go back home and go back to sleep. But no. The nurse kept filling up vial after vial of blood. I started getting cold inside when she said, “You’re all done”. I tried to speak but my mouth wouldn’t move, the divider curtain pattern started spinning and turned black and white.
I’m looking up and a lady I’ve never seen before is asking if I’m o.k. and I’m confused about where I’m at. Everything was really bright and shiny and unfocused as she lead me to an empty waiting room. I feel halfway numb and my feet and hands are tingling. She saw the large scar on my chest and asked me about my surgery then ordered an EKG. She was asking more questions, lots of questions I could answer in my mind but my mouth wouldn’t work to answer them. The last I remember was waking up and putting my shirt back on. It felt like nothing happened. I was wide awake. I opened the door and the receptionist saw me and gave me the “1 minute” finger gesture. Another nurse (I’m assuming they’re all nurses) came in and talked to me, I told her I’m fine and she agreed to let me go. The fifteen minute drive back home seemed like an hour. I get to the drive and as I turn in I saw in my rear view mirror a maroon minivan had followed behind me.
A vivid dream last night woke me up. I was talking to a female, there were a lot of animals running in the back ground. The conversation was incoherent except she did say, “We’ve never met”. What woke me up was the feeling of her hand on my arm as she got up from the side of my bed. No one was there, the TV was going with the sound off. Thinking I heard the TV, I turned it off. A few hours later I finally get up for the day. Making coffee I noticed a small piece of paper on the drawing table.
(Just now while I’m writing this my alarm clock went off. It’s 8:39 am and not set to go off on Friday. The clock only sets to 15 minute increments, too)
The paper is a piece I use to put my hand on so I don’t smudge drawings with the side of my hand. It’s filled with mostly pink scribbles. The only thing I do know is this isn’t something I’ve done. At least consciously. It is unique, it kind of looks like a child’s scribbling.
I didn’t get moving around today until around 11:30 this morning. By the time I left the house it was 12:15. “Fck, I’m going to catch the lunch crowd”, was my first thought. I wasn’t in the mood for the crowds I hate so much but I needed gas and my prescriptions. I’ll suffer it out then do nothing the rest of the day. Gas, $1.78 today, $25 filled my Durango up. At one time I was spending $25 a day on gas. This little thing made my voyage into unwanted crowds feel a little better. While I was there and my tank filled, beer sounded good. But, there’s the dark anonymous crowd of people inside. All gathered at the counter to slowly check out their purchase and generally act like they’ve never been in a civilized group before. The talker is in front of me again, why? I don’t want to talk, I don’t want a rewards card, I want to get what I came in for and get out. During this barrage of stimuli, the feeling of being stared at for attention was burning into the left rear of my skull. In a sweating semi-rage I looked back. A girl, a young lady not a kid, had her eyes locked in so tight on mine I thought they’d grown roots into my retinas. Her tomboyish attractiveness made me hold a stare back at her longer than I really wanted too. It went through my mind while I stood in the slowest check-out line from hell, that she is one. It felt like it, the short glancing exchange produced a light blue aura around her, after I thought about it. My $8 wait was over and I walked out to my car. Behind me I hear in a faint voice and I distinctly heard, “Bist Do Doitcha”. It stuck out just by the way the words were pronounced. I looked back and it was the girl from the line. Her pale skin seemed almost iridescent in the sun light. I was caught off guard and answered like country bumpkin, “Huh”? With her baseball hat pulled down covering her eyes she replied, “Sorry, I thought you were someone else”. She acted embarrassed and shy as she looked down and walked away. What I found peculiar was she didn’t buy anything. To come up behind me that fast she had to leave the line she was in. The other thing was the direction she walked into. She walked out to the sidewalk and headed away from the gas station. Without buying anything! But stood in line! Pulling out of the lot, looking both ways to cross traffic, there was no sign of her. There’s only a sidewalk for several hundred yards until it leads to the next closes business. Even running she couldn’t have vanished that quick. After getting my prescriptions I drove back in the direction she walked off in. The several miles it took the road to end, there was no sign of her.
My phone kept vibrating all day. It’s only set to vibrate when I get a text but there wasn’t any new texts. Even in my incoming log there wasn’t anything for today. I restarted the phone it but that didn’t do any good. The last time it vibrated I typed in my pass code and a picture flashed before my home screen opened. I opened my picture folder and found the same one that flashed on my screen. I have no idea what this is.
I met a quiet man a few years ago. He kept to himself much like I do. He spoke when he had to and nothing more. At first he would walk by me, not a glance or acknowledgment as we passed. My greetings went unanswered. His aura said he was content. A golden gleam. A color I see a lot around happy energetic and content people. He wore sunglasses everywhere, again just like I do. For a retiree he was active and healthy for his age. He kept a strict walking regimen, every day 1 hour non-stop. He carried himself with confidence.
One day “F” answered my greeting. “Wa-sup Mike” he said. I remember it. A victory won for me. I found out he had served in Vietnam. I didn’t ask questions, but accepted it.
I remember a bad thunderstorm came through one afternoon. “F” was out of his unit. He lived on the upper floors. He was panicked. His face, hidden behind the sunglasses, gave off sheer terror. He moved around too much, restless. His golden aura was empty and hollow, nothing was there. The lightning and clapping thunder intensified. There was no sign of him. The wind pushed the rain hard against the windows and water came in from under the doors. I found out later he was terrified by the sound of thunder and lightening. The storm gave up for that day. “F” appeared at the elevator. Smiling and refreshed. The look of relief and his gold colors returned around him.
For the last few weeks he came out less and less. The random time we passed he was quiet. No acknowledgment. He seemed tired, His aura turning a charcoal and yellow. He walked one day then disappeared. This morning I kept hearing in my twilight, between asleep and awake, “If I don’t see you again, it’s cool”. It sounded like it was spoken. The words stayed in my mind most of the morning. Arriving at work I found the lock box had been opened. My first thought was someone was locked out and the building’s after hours attendant got them a key. I asked, when I saw her, what happened last night. She didn’t know and reminded me she would call if she ever went into the lock box.
They took “F” away in the emergency squad last night. The neighbor told me they spent a long time inside his unit. Sometimes I wonder how close I really am to people without realizing it.
Another time I’ve seen the lights was the night we were coming home and took the country roads. We came up to the traffic light at State Route 42. It was just getting dark, the light turned green for us to go. I was in the front passenger seat. I’m pretty sure my friend, Jack, who was driving, didn’t even look to see if there were any cars coming before he started to move. The lights came from my side vision, flashing and circling. I looked and bearing down on us was a semi-truck unable to stop for the red light. I reached over and slammed the gear shift up only making it to reverse. It was enough to stop us and make enough gear grinding noise for Jack to hit the brakes. The truck flew right in front of us. The lights then appeared in front of the windshield. It seemed they were making sure we were o.k. They moved around towards the drivers side and slowly faded out.