Echoes

72 Hours left - Morning

I jolt out of bed with a start, my heart racing and my breath coming fast. Frantically looking around I try to center myself. I was on the sofa of my apartment the old, battered thing creaking under my movement. The familiar scenery of my apartment worked to calm me down and I took a deep breath as I ran my hands through my hair.

"What's the fuss?" I hear from the other side of the room, the voice amused. I look over and see my neighbor, Matt, scrounging around my kitchen. I go to move and wince as pain bites into my lower back, he sees this and raises an eyebrow. "Sleep wrong?"

I shake my head. "I don't know, I think I had some crazy dream." I tell him, climbing to my feet and moving to the fridge. "It was strange, almost like that movie, where the kid dreams everyone is going die on that plane, so he freaks out."

"Final Destination?" Matt asks. I nod at him while taking a drink of orange juice from the bottle. "So, you had a dream about dying? That what you're trying to say?"

I shrug. "Not exactly, it was super weird. I barely remember most of it, to be honest." I give him a once over. He was wearing a black button up shirt and a new pair of jeans, with what looked like freshly cleaned boots. I smirk. "Trying to impress somebody?"

He looks down at his clothing, his black hair falling over his forehead in the process. "Its my first day at the new place, I wanted to make an impression." He explained scowling at me. "Too much?"

"I don't know, you're probably fine. I can't say I know how your average homicide detective looks like though."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, I gotta go anyways." He hands me the plate he was holding, toast and eggs piled on it, and goes to leave. "Make sure you eat that, and I'll see you later." He yells over his shoulder, leaving my apartment.

I stared down at the plate of food and sighed. It seemed to have turned into a daily habit of Matt coming over to force breakfast on me. I sat down on the sofa and started eating; As always, the eggs were too salty and the bread burnt, but I was used to the flavor now. Whenever I asked him why he did it, he gave some excuse about making sure I ate in the morning since I worked so late. But I was convinced it was more so he could make sure I made it home the previous night. I leaned back and turned on the TV, a somber news anchor appeared before me.

"Yet another young girl was found last night in the downtown area of the city. This is yet another victim in the horrifying string of serial murders currently plaguing our local area. Police are trying to move as fast as possible to identify the newest victim and find any evidence at the crime scene." She looks down at the papers in her hands for a moment. "The police released a statement early this morning alerting women to stay inside at night and not to travel alone. If you must go out at night, stay in well lit areas, and make sure someone knows where you are at all times. Stay safe out there, everyone." She finishes as it changes to commercials.

I shake my head and turn off the TV, the cases have shown up like clockwork, every week a new girl is found, and the police are no closer to finding who's doing it. I shake my head and drop the dirty plate into the kitchen sink. The warning pertained to me, and people like me, the ones who worked the night shift, the ones who went home late, the ones who lived in dark dingy areas. I worked the graveyard shift at a liquor store and went home at close to 3 am every day. If I thought about it right now, when I'm awake and energetic I get worried, anxious, thinking about the what ifs. But if you were to ask me the same question at 3 am as I drag myself home, I would be too tired to care. The thought made me bark out a laugh, it was somewhat depressing. Shaking my head, I walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower, begrudgingly getting ready for the day.