House of Night

Chapter 1: Lonely in the City

Jill covertly watched the other people on the bus. It was her and four others, one of them she recognized from yesterday and countless days before. He was a young man in a business suit, bagged eyes fixed on his phone. Earbuds deep in his canals buzzed out a Katy Perry song Jill could just make out over the rumbling of the bus. He bobbed along absently. In her head he was simply Suit Guy. Outside, the indecisive clouds pressed down. Tall glassy skyscrapers reflected the monochrome grey sky. She caught a young woman's distorted eye in the windows funhouse reflection. As city custom dictates, all eyes quickly flit downward. Jill sighed. Why so frightened? Like the mere recognition of other people existing may bring upon a fiery hell-storm of apocalyptic death ninjas. The lumbering bus lurched to a stop, heads leaned forward and rocked back in unison. Jill waved her hand under the motion sensor and the doors creaked open.

"Thank you," she hopped onto the curb. A short walk down the street brought her to the coffee shop. Five minutes later she had a latte in one hand and change in the other. She shouldered open the door, returning to the damp, chilly morning.

"Hey Jill," the old man had a face like crumpled paper. He was posted under the overhang of an abandoned shop.

"Hi Jackle," Jill deposited her change into his upturned baseball cap. He smiled a yellow toothed grin from inside his sleeping bag.

Finally inside the office building, she nodded a greeting to the well dressed Asian man who was also waiting for the elevator. He got off first and the elevator binged shut. Jill gratefully let out her fart. It came out with with a soft pfft. A somewhat feminine robotic voice announced that they had reached the twenty second floor.

"Thank you Janine," Jill said politely to the elevator ceiling. She exited through the elevator waiting room and entered the office space. Cubicles barely larger than a port-a-potty were partitioned by chest high walls. The whole space gave the impression of an ice cube tray, slowly being filled by a steady stream of people. Stained carpeting dulled her footsteps as she picked her way to her cubicle. She sat down and did not get up until she had to pee four hours later. Four thirty rolled around and Jill's mind kept the pace of a snail swimming in molasses. Jill told herself not to look at the clock. Jill looked at the clock. It smugly told her that it was four thirty two. Bastard. Five o'clock came as a rescue boat and Jill stood so quickly her head swam. Jeffery ("call me Jeff!") from human resources foiled her attempted escape.

"Jill," he planted himself directly in her path, "Remember that tomorrow is Team Initiative Building Day. Or TIB-Day as I have been encouraging people to call it." Jill felt the intense urge to punch Jeff right in his mashed potato face.

"Sounds great." Jill took a half step to the left but Jeff decided he was a boxer and wove in front of her again.

"Do you want to grab a bite?"

"Thanks but I'm busy tonight," Her mind drifted to the very important leftover lasagna in the fridge.

"Come on, it'll be fun, I could use your help planning for TIB-Day," Jeff leaned forward, winked and quirked his head to the side. It was a move he had practiced in the mirror, he thought it looked quite endearing. Jill thought it was a nervous twitch.

"Sorry, I have a bunch of stuff to do," she shoved her rising annoyance back down into the depths of her stomach. It mingled with the other unprocessed emotions buried down there.

"Okay, maybe next time," Jeff called as Jill pushed past him. She walked as quickly as she could to the elevators before anything else could stop her. By the time Jeff turned around Jill was attacking the elevator close button.

Back on the overstuffed, rush hour bus, she pictured locking Jeff in a broom cupboard. He would plead, his voice reduced to pre-pubescent cracking, to be released. This is getting dark. She tried thinking about other things, but her thoughts drifted back to torturing Jeff.