Dear Diary | Proxies

iv. embarrassing phone calls

Dear Diary,
There's three of them total, I believe, but the first one hasn't shown back up.

The next day, after work, I was sitting on my couch, watching as the sun set on the horizon. I had gotten home exhausted and ready to pass out, but my body wouldn't let me, so I sat on my couch in a pretty bra and sweatpants and lazily watched the sky as it turned shades of pink and blue and then fell into darkness. My window was open as I watched, the cool night air making me even more comfortable. The only thing separating me from the outside was a mesh screen so bugs wouldn't get inside.

I hadn't noticed them at first. It was only when I looked towards the trees to see if any animals were coming out that I saw them. There were two this time instead of one. It was the one with a white and black mask that I saw last time, but he was with somebody. This man was a few inches taller than him with a black mask covering his face, a red frowny face stitched into it. I frowned, a thought tugging at the back of my head. They looked so vaguely familiar, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

I leaned forward, trying to get a better look. "Hey," the word slipped past my mouth before I caught it. "What are you?" It was a ridiculous question to ask, but as soon as I said it, I knew why. Besides the fact that they were opaque, they hadn't said anything the entire time I had seen them. My hallucinations in the past would normally say something, trying to convince me that they were real. They, however, had stayed silent the entire time I had seen them.

At the question, the one with the frown stitched into his mask tilted his head slightly as if asking what I meant without saying anything.

I was speaking without thinking at this point, leaning my head on my hand as my elbow found purchase on the back of the couch. "I mean, you're not hallucinations, are you? You don't fit the normal look of them. Like him." I stuck my thumb back, vaguely pointing to the man my mind had conjured up in the back. He was resting on one of my chairs, mumbling to himself as he chewed on his fingernails, whispered conspiracy theories about the government and my life. I had tuned him out the best I could a while ago.

The frowny-faced man straightened his head back up but still made no move to talk.

"It's weird," I continued. "I don't feel scared of you. You seem familiar, but I can't place my finger on it. You've been here before but you haven't tried breaking in," I started counting on my fingers for emphasis, "killing me, threatening me, or even talking to me. You just stand there."

The one in the white mask grunted lowly as if trying to say something but falling just short of it.

I sighed and leaned back a bit, rubbing my hands along my arms to push away imaginary fingers. "I feel like I should feel threatened by you, but I don't. Is that weird?"

The frowny man moved, placing his foot in front of him, and at the movement, I perked up, but the white-masked one threw his arm out, blocking him from coming closer. The frowny one turned to look at his friend, and I watched with curiosity. He let out a low grunt, and the masked one pressed his hand harder against his chest, pushing him back slightly. Then, they turned and left, walking into the woods before I could ask them to stop.

I sighed lowly and slumped in my seat. Still no answers.

"Can you shut the fuck up," I finally yelled to the man on the couch, and he gave me a sad look before disappearing into nothing.

Work was stressful the next day. I felt like a chicken running around with its head cut off as I had to cover my work along with others as people refused to take their job seriously. When the rush finally dulled into almost nothing a little after one o'clock, I slumped down in the backroom for a few moments before my coworker came over, smacking gum she wasn't supposed to be chewing. "You have a table."