Awakening

14: Disquiet

Blake set a couple of fruits in a fridge drawer, then grabbed some cans from a plastic bag on the counter and set them in a nearby cupboard, and placed a small loaf of bread on the counter. It felt as though he were on some kind of auto-pilot, only able to put away a couple of groceries because he had nothing else to do.

This is torture, he thought to himself when his mind began to wander. He was frustrated with having to stay home and do nothing, and equally frustrated when he'd been told a week ago that anybody currently isolated in quarantine could not be visited. He wanted to visit his mom, and June. But the only hospital in town was already at capacity and nobody wanted to risk anybody else.

All the schools in Jordan Heights cancelled classes days ago, businesses had closed down, and even the churches were hesitant at letting patrons in. Kids no longer screamed and played in the parks, and Blake could not go anywhere or do anything but worry and pace in his own home. He got occasional updates from June's dad on the other side of the door, and sometimes a few groceries....but still he heard nothing new about June or his mother.

Blake walked to the living room, tired of sifting through cans and dry goods. Then he paced. And paced. And paced. He could feel himself stomping on the carpet a little, enough that the soles of his feet became a little sore. He marched back and forth around the living room and around the still-cracked coffee table. His legs could barely keep him standing and walking around. He desperately needed rest, but he refused to sit or lay down much as he needed it.

His senses remained on high alert for anything and everything. As well as they could work anyways.

A tingle ran up his spine, and in a moment's notice he ran towards the corner by the hallway, took the scythe in hand, and held it in front of himself for defense. The uncomfortable prickle radiated around his neck and lingered for a few moments. Slowly the sensation subsided, though it did not disappear completely. He relaxed a little but would not set down his weapon. He thought he felt something else on his back, but he couldn't quite tell.

Blake barely moved a muscle, for how long he did not know. After a time what felt like a season, he lowered the scythe a little, set it back down near the hallway, and paced slowly around the living room once again.

Another tingle crawled up his back, but this time he tried to logic it out. Was it that older lady from several days ago? She'd disappeared when the Shadows attacked and he had not seen her since. Maybe it was another Shadow? One that talked? Or just a simple dark creature with base instinct like the ones he was unfortunately getting used to.

Then again....it could be absolutely nothing. He'd had enough false warnings in the last week that it was difficult to figure out anything. And right now he could not focus enough to tell the difference.

He walked towards his bedroom instead, and peeked inside. Nothing but a space enveloped in darkness caused by closed curtains. The bed sheets were practically ripped off the bed but the rest of the room seemed ordinary and empty, and eventually he lost interest and walked away.

Blake stopped in front of his mother's room however, and his thought process turned much more pensive. Alisha had not stood or rested in this room for days, and a thin layer of dust had appeared on her dresser. On the nightstand, two pills on a small plate lay, untouched. Blake could feel the frustration bubble from within. More than anything though......he felt regretful.

It was in her room. I don't know what's going on with the spirits anymore. And the town is now.......I should have told her.

Fact of the matter was that he hadn't the slightest clue if she was sick, or just in quarantine....maybe she was dying and he wouldn't know.....