Isabella Jones is a rising senior in college, who is pursuing economics. Life is blissful. She has a supportive best friend, numerous job offers lined up and almost healed wounds from the past. But, one treacherous summer night, someone muffles her...
Staying awake is agonizing but so is the mere thought of succumbing to sleep. But, I have to break the viscous cycle of sleepless nights. I constrain my mind from stumbling around in a whirlwind of emotions and put a hand on my drowsy eyes in an attempt to shut my eyelids.
12:26 am
7th sheep jumps across the bridge, 8th sheep jumps across the bridge... 41st sheep jumps acro-. 41. The number stirs terror in my stomach. It has been 41 days since I safely slept in my bed. 41 days since they let me go. But, why?
Every day has been a purgatory, accompanied with paranoia. But, I have to sleep today. I must. Tomorrow (technically today) is the first day after summer vacations.
1: 10 am
I can't shake off the feeling that someone is watching me perpetually. My mind is always on guard regardless of where I am or what time it is.
1: 25 am
My crazy thoughts overpower my rationale convincing me to jump out of my bed to reach for my closet door. I frantically search the closet, uncertain about what I'm looking for, maybe a person, camera or a microphone. I empty the closet, scattering all the clothes on the floor and dashing for the bathroom door. I push it open and go through the cabinets, while throwing products in all directions.
2: 40 am
I am pulling shards out of my foot with a tweezer. The shards of the betadine solution glass bottle I broke while examining my kitchen cupboard. My entire apartment is in a disarray. The instant noodles which were supposed to be my dinner last night are splattered across the table cloth and broken glass bottles wrap the floor.
4: 53 am
I knot the black plastic bag, which contains all the broken pieces, with my right hand and sit down on the chair to examine the pain on my left side I got while cleaning the mess. I probably just pulled my muscle. Sometimes, I feel like my body has become fragile after the incident. Every time I pick something heavy, I am left with wobbly muscles screaming for help to the core and a translucent layer of grey mist circling my brain causing me to lose sight, balance and consciousness.
6: 01 am
I get out of the shower, dry my hair with a towel and start looking for something to wear. Eventually, I end up with a navy blue full- sleeve top and black jeans. It is unassumingly going to be a hot summer day with strong heatwaves capable of sweltering my brain but the idea of wearing something suited to the weather, being vulnerable, showing my skin- sends chills down my spine.
7: 30 am
I throw the uneaten cereal bowl in the sink. I have only had a cup of instant noodles and some stale french fries in the last three days. I have only gone out twice in forty- one days to stack packed food in my cabinet. I am broke. I have less than 100 dollars left in my bank account. I don't know how I am going to pay my rent. My scholarship only covers my tuition fees. Seriously, fuck capitalism.
8: 33 am
I am stepping out of my apartment after one and a half week, that too for college. To say, that I'm scared would be the understatement of the century. I have forgotten how to speak. I have not heard my voice in 41 days except for the time I spoke to the cashier in the store. My vocal cords seem to be paralyzed. My skin would rather bear molten lava than human touch. But, I will not let anything sabotage my progress, not when I am here despite almost two decades of assault. I must continue. I tie my shoe laces and lock the door, checking it twice. Inhaling deep breaths, I start walking down the steps with brisk movements.
8: 45 am
The magnificent red brick buildings become visible along with moving figures. Summer vacations are over at Maple Hills College. Everyone is back in school for the semester. Enthusiasm gleams in their eyes as they tell each other about their chirpy vacay stories. Nobody knows about the murderer amongst them. Nobody, but me.
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This chapter literally came out of me so easily. I was so relaxed while writing this chapter as if I was capable of giving the writer's block, a writer's block or an existential crisis.
