MicroHorror

I’m going to befriend a stranger today. I feel full of life and energy, slept well last night, no dreams, no panicked waking up as the night noises shook and boiled beneath my window, the dogs stayed quiet and the cats weren’t fighting. I had the covers pulled right up to my nose and my eyes scanned the room for hours but eventually I slept.

I was covered in sweat as usual but I couldn’t see the shadows in the corner. They weren’t moving or talking today. I couldn’t hear a thing. This was going to be a good day. I could feel it. I danced a little but my feet felt slick against the wooden floor. I looked down and saw that there was a small smear of blood trailing off my foot.

I’d scratched myself again and now I needed to scratch some more. I sat back down on the edge of the bed and soothed the burning, feverishly raking my nails across the skin, reddening and reddening, the blood seeping into my nails. I stopped and took a deep, deep breath and smiled. Better now, sore but the itching had gone. I pulled on my robe and went downstairs. The buzzing noises had lessened today, a cold snap outside and I couldn’t smell a thing. I poured a glass of milk and drank it deep.

I switched on the TV and a block of hissing static filled my ears. I left it on and walked to the window which overlooked the park ten floors below.

It seemed like a really good day for making friends, perhaps I could talk to the children who were playing soccer by the swings. Maybe not, they did look a bit old and I felt a little afraid. Or maybe the colored boys with the turbans who owned the shop by the library could be my friends. Sometimes I bought comics in there and pop; they had dandelion and burdock which I like the best. They were always friendly, well, except for the old man, he always stared at me and Mary who helps me at the hospital says that he smells funny.

I slumped to the floor resting the back of my head against the cold radiator, my neck and chin bunched up into rolls of fat. I began to pick at my chest. Some of the spots were very itchy and mad red. I squeezed some and rolled the yellow juice between my fingers. I had a quick smell but I didn’t like it much.

I got dressed and opened the front door. The wind was howling around the caverns and alleys of the housing estate, dark clouds settling firmly above. I avoided the boys and stayed away from the shop by the library. I walked to the hospital feeling very cold in just a T-shirt. Mary would be there. She could tell me what to do.

When I eventually got there they told me that Mary was missing, they hadn’t seen her in days. The other girls looked really scared and upset. There was even a policeman in there, talking to Doctor Heffernan. Sometimes I wondered if Dr. Heffernan would be my friend but I didn’t think so. I’d heard him tell Mary once that he didn’t like comics in the dayroom.

I went home and found that I’d left the front door open again and the television was screaming at me. I laughed and thought of Mary. She would be my friend. I took her photograph down from the fridge door and put it in a bag with some of her other things. I could go to see her later, check to see if she’s okay, and maybe we could play together if she isn’t too tired after work. She works very, very hard.