It Eats. ( COMPLETED )

September 7th, 2018

I've started noticing strange things around the office.

Coworkers will come and go which surely seems normal to a business that can't get its shit together and pay their people enough. But even after people have gone, I still see them.

I see them in the halls, wandering through the bathrooms, or sitting at their desks. They'll start as the suggestion of an image in the corner of my eye, and when I turn to face them, they aren't there. If I think about them more, I become more convinced that I am seeing them in the walls. Their shadows crease the faded yellow paint and their voices bounce around the bathroom stalls.

I've decided that I must be seeing things.

Working at my desk, I had my head bent down and focused on the article I was assigned. Voices filled my ears, shadows crossed my peripherals. I am exhausted. The lids over my eyes are slipping as I hear footsteps approaching. I was trying to decide if they were real or not as the sleep became too strong and took over my body.

"Isla?" The hand on my shoulder gripped me gently and pulled me to attention.

I jerked upright, "Wha-" Drool stuck to the table and dribbled up with me. I blinked wearily, turning to look at who woke me, "Oh, hello, Elliot." My arms reached up to the sky but quickly flinched back down in fear as a former coworker peeked through in the corner of my eye.

Elliot blinked at me. Was that annoyance or sympathy I saw grace his features?

"Are you alright? You seem to be a bit tired." His arms folded over his wide chest as he looked down at me from under his equally wide glasses. "If you need to go home early and. . . take care of your cat or whatever." He waved away the notion of insecurity in his thoughts, "Just, go home if you need to."

A laugh bubbled up from my lips, "No, sir. I'm alright! I just didn't sleep very well last night so I'm a bit tired today." I tapped the space bar on the computer, waking the device from the slumber I jealously craved. The document I had finished hours prior but was pretending to edit was still there, staring back at me.

As if not understanding my words, Elliot slid inside the cubicle barrier. His gray suit pants and blue blazer were striking against his cold foam skin. My eyes trailed up the seams to his head of bourbon hair and deep blue eyes. He was like a character out of my novel - I hope he never reads it.

"You should just go home if you don't feel well, y'know."

Was he flirting with me??

It took everything within me to keep my mouth from dropping open in shock. I shoved my chair back from the desk and ran for the break room. I had been avoiding the kitchenette ever since the mold had infected my thoughts and I had started seeing the Coworkers of Friendships Past. But Elliot was in my personal space and I found myself instinctively running towards it. Can I report him to HR?

Pressing my palms against the counter, I leaned over the sink and became aware that I was keeping my back to the mold. It had grown larger in the last few months. My breaths were labored as I began to panic: it was close.

It wanted me.

It wanted all of us.

Why has no one gotten rid of it? Why did my mouth taste like rot and yeast?

I blinked and I was telling Elliot that "Actually, I would very much like to go home. I'm just not feeling my best and Tini would enjoy my company." My smile felt forced, my eyes were watering the carpet and Elliot definitely had a sympathetic look on his face.

"Sure. Go on home. We'll see you next week," He patted my shoulder, a touch I recoiled from.

Tini is enjoying my company. I think I'll sleep now.