TW - criminal activity, firearms

I'm sitting at my kitchen table stirring soggy off-brand cereal and eying the cordless phone. I bite my lip and finally pick up the phone ready to dial Joanna's number. I stand up and wander into the living area leaning against the back of the couch. She'd do it, right? She loves me. Of course she will. Besides, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to snoop out the new tenant that's been giving me the heebie jeebies. I start to punch in her number when there is a knock at the door. I tense up for a few seconds when the dial tone of the phone brings me back from my mind running wild with horrific scenarios. I click it off and set it on the end table.

Slowly I make my way to the front door and press my hands against it licking my lips nervously. It's not like it's completely unusual for someone to knock on the door but I can't help thinking the worse after last night. Felix could be behind that door ready to rip my throat out. I know I am probably delusional about this but he is kind of spooky, isn't he? I rise on the balls of my feet a little and peer through the peephole. I'm relieved to see no one especially not Felix but that doesn't extinguish my fears. Flat on my feet again, I count to three before unlocking the door, closing my eyes, and swinging the door open quickly. When nothing immediately happens, I open one eye and peer around. I stick my head out and look down either end of the hall.

My eyebrows furrow and I step out just as I see Mr. Murphy going to unlock his apartment door. However, something catches my eye and I turn to face our apartment door. Taped just underneath the peephole is an envelope with my name scrawled neatly across it. The handwriting reminds me of medieval or Victorian fancy scrawl that'd you see in one of those period films or what Shakespeare's handwriting might have looked like. I pull it off and stare uncertainly at it. Well, it's addressed to me so I guess I should just open it. Of course, something very unpleasant could be inside it but considering I don't have much of a social life I don't really have too many enemies. I shake myself out a bit and open it.

It's the papers I printed out on jellyfish.

"Uh..." I turn towards Mr. Murphy before he completely disappears into his apartment. "Mr. Murphy?"

He backs out and looks over at me with a questioning expression. "Yes, lad?"

"Did you see anyone come down this hall only minutes ago?"

He paused in thought and scratched his face. "Ah yeah, that new bloke, the funny goth one," he said and then followed that with an odd expression directed towards me. "What's that?"

"Oh." I glanced at the papers than back at the middle-aged English man. "It's nothing. Well, thanks, Mr. Murphy, have a good day. Later." I gave him a quick wave and darted back into the apartment, closing the door soundly after me.

Felix certainly saved me the trouble.

Mabel mewed and rubbed against my leg. I glanced down at her and offered a weak smile. "I guess I better get to work on this essay, May."

                                                ---

It took me till 4:30ish to finish that essay. My mind wandered to Felix uncontrollably and I had difficulty concentrating. How did he know what apartment I lived in? Did he ask around? That's definitely creepy. Though, if he just happened to know, that would raise a red flag in my mind. I was grateful obviously but it still had me puzzled. I might have to consult Joanna again tomorrow when I stop by to type this essay up for Monday. I am also tempted to look up something else on her laptop.

My mother woke up around late noon. She had the last bagel and a cup of coffee before she sat down on the couch to watch her soaps. She just changed it to the Hallmark channel and was watching some drama-filled chick flick. I don't really see the appeal but women are mysterious creatures. Never the less, I sat next to her as I finished my essay and watch a few minutes of it. It doesn't hold my interest long though and I get up to wander into the kitchen with her empty mug. I wash it and set it on the drying rack before opening the fridge to check the contents. Pretty slim pickings if I do say so myself and I do. It's been at least two weeks or so since the last time I went shopping for groceries. I best do it now before it gets too late, besides I'd rather not wait around till my mother starts balling her eyes out over this movie. I've been witness to that too many times to count.

I dress simply in just jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, and my favorite pair of ratty converse sneakers. I tell my mother and bid her farewell and that I'll be back soon before I take some bills out of the collective money can a top the fridge. Once I'm all set I leave with a kiss against her temple but she barely responds, too focused on the film. I sigh and make my way out.

I bump into no one on the way down. I'm not too upset about it but just find it a little odd.

The closest grocery store is Mike's Market just a few blocks down. I don't get out much and when I do I don't go very far. There are people out and about but I speak to no one and keep to myself. It's not like my neighborhood is some kind of dog town full of gang wars and such but it's not exactly the best either. I manage to make it to Mike's in peace though. I wander in, grab a basket, and start to collect what we need.

The market is a small privately owned grocer. The manager and owner, John Cliff, runs it with his family and his grandfather, Mike, started it a while, while back according to John. That would be before I was born. I've gotten to know a lot of the business near the Avalon since we moved here. It's kind of nice, as if I live in a small town instead of a small part of a large city. The market is like a small version of a chain grocery store or similar to a large convenience store. A lot of fresh produce they get from farmers outside of the city. It's decent and we don't tend to buy too much non-necessity. Well, except when my mom actually decides to do the shopping. She tends to over spend, so I try to do it before she actually decides to.

There are only a few customers from what I can see but I try to focus on grabbing what we need. I wander down aisle after aisle picking out food items, making sure to check the price before I place them into my basket. I remember we need some toilet paper and toothpaste so I make my way to the toiletries at the far end. I pick up a generic brand of paste and glance out one of the windows. It's still kind of light but the clouds are dark and it's started to drizzle. Darn, I didn't bring an umbrella. I pray this doesn't get me sick in the morning.

I move to the end of the aisle and crouch down to the lower shelves to pick out a pack of toilet paper. My hand reaches out for one when I hear a gunshot and it gets dimmer in the store like one of the overhead lights went out. My muscles tense, my blood freezes and boils at the same time, and it feels as if I can't breathe lest my heart might explode from the way it's thundering in my chest. A man screams from what can only be a few feet away, "Everybody down! Now show me some goddamn money!" I swallow and shut my eyes tight not believing this is really happening. Once my muscles decide to cooperate I peer very slowly and carefully around the corner. Just a little peek and see a man with a large handgun pointed at John behind the cash register and another behind him with what I can only assume is a shotgun. I don't really know firearms. He has the shotgun pointed at a woman flat on the ground. She looks alive. There is a light right above them that's out so I can only assume that's what they shot.

They have on ski masks and dark clothing but that's all I really notice as the handgun guy looks in my general direction and I quickly move around so my back is against the shelves sitting with my knees drawn. Oh god, this is bad. This is really bad. Please, God, don't let him have seen me here.

"Hey, go check down that last aisle. I think I saw something," the one that spoke earlier says.

I think I might hyperventilate as I hear footsteps moving towards me. I'm not usually one to curse but this seems like a perfect opportunity to say fuck in chant form inside this head of mine that I might just lose any second now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.