Creative Writing Now - Break In

Work was long today.  I sat at my desk, staring out my window, wishing I could find a way to escape this daily ritual of mine.  I arrive at work, write down my list of to-do’s for the day and then get busy.  I cross things off one by one, happy with the work I’ve done on each task, but strangely is seems as though at 3:30pm each day I finish my list.

What to do with the final hour and a half is always a struggle.  I wish I could just leave when my work was complete, no longer an anxious prisoner to the time I could be using on other things.  But I wait until 5:00 each day.  I have the luxury of surfing the internet and stalking friends on Facebook, but that no longer gives me a thrill.  It increases the boredom and makes me feel even more trapped in this small square office with only a small window to the outside world.

Each day I fight that hour and a half.  Today it seemed to drag on forever.  In my head I could hear each second ticking away in my mind and when I looked at the clock only one or two minutes had passed away.  Inside I was screaming, wanting to be set free.  I am not meant to sit day after day after day in a room with four walls, breathing the same stagnant air for eight hours. I craved freedom. 

Finally, the clock turned to 5:00pm and I was already walking out my door and heading to the parking lot.  Stepping out into the sunlight I felt myself come alive and the energy that had been shut off during the work day hit me full force and I couldn’t wait to get home and go for a run.  With so much built up energy I feel as though I can run for hours and hours.

I rush home, unlock my apartment door and halfway walking across my living room I freeze.  Something’s wrong.  I notice broken glass and an emptiness that suffocates me.  My couches are gone, along with my tv.  The walls are bare and even my family photo that hung over my couch is gone.  

I take a look into my bedroom.  Again, emptiness surrounds me.  Who would take my bed? Who would take my life? Opened closets reveal my clothing is gone.  EVERYTHING is gone. I am frozen. I close my eyes. This must be a dream.  I’ll wake up soon.  I feel like I’m floating, traveling from room to room. My things have disappeared. I no longer exist.

One more look in the living room and I notice something small in the corner.  Slowly I walk towards it and dread fills each of my bones as I see what it is. The heaviness of the dread pushes me down to my knees.  The only thing remaining in my apartment is an empty box of Milk Duds.  I remember the man at the movie theater.  The way he watched me as I walked with my friends to the counter. He listened as I told them about my favorite treat.  

When I ran into him a few days later, as I was walking home from a run in park, he offered me a box of Milk Duds.  I’d seen him multiple times when I’d been out running or out with friends.  I’d caught him looking at me.  I declined the box and politely asked him to leave me alone.  How did he find my house? How did he get all of my stuff out of my apartment? Why would he do this to me?

Suddenly, I am aware that someone is standing behind me.  I turn to face him.  My questions will be answered soon enough.