Suffocated

▲10▼

It is eight a.m. and I am staring at the mirror at the scratch marks.

It was a dream.
I thought ; staring at the marks which I had cleaned up now.

When I had first stared at the mirror; the marks were covered in blood.
My blood.

I can't believe it.
It was supposed to be a dream.

The marks are getting redder still; and they are beginning to show more in my face.

That woman just scratched my face.

I am still shocked at my dream.
Not totally because of the scratching; but the question where he went.

What was I doing back there so happy and free; and with him ?

I shake off my thoughts and take a hot shower with my favorite orange bodywash to calm myself down.

The weather outside is getting positively colder now; but I reluctantly get into my ironed uniform.

I put some salve-like lotion I have on my scratch marks which are positively burning.

My stomach is churning with the feeling of sickness-mental sickness.

I feel that the woman is continuously watching me; calculating my moves and torturing me.

I take a deep breath and leave my apartment a bit early today without breakfast-I can't eat anything right now or it will end in vomiting.

I have applied a lot of liquid concealer and a lot of face powder so that the scars won't show.

It works.

I take the elevator this time; unable to put my fear in front of my weak-feeling legs.

I just cannot walk fourteen floors downstairs right now.

I am again on the 7th floor when the mist grabs me and my lungs weaken.

My heartbeat increases suddenly.

I collapse at the ground; unable to breathe; my legs weak.

The woman shows up against in the mirror; a vague outline; only her chocolate brown hair visible.

Mist.... That's what I do to sinners....That's what I do to murderers ..... You can't escape me this time Mist; not when I am dead . I can get you any time and make you die . But I won't. I will torture you for your sins; Mist.
I will torture your loved ones.

I will make sure I write killer on your face.

"What have you done to him?" I choked.

But the elevator opened.

She was gone.

* * *
I picked my ragged self from the elevator and drove to the airport. I was half an hour early.

My mind still couldn't digest what she had said.

I will torture your loved ones.

There was only one person I truly loved in this world in my entire cursed life.

And I didn't know where he was.

Or whether he was alive.

I made my way into the pilot section and checked my schedule again.

I had two fast two-hour flights; one with Peter; my good friend and the other one was checking the border checkposts; a flight I had once a week with two other pilots.

Harry and Drew.

Drew. I didn't really like him maybe. But thank god I don't blush.

After some times many pilots come off and on from theit flights and I re-apply my concealer again; just in case.

Three hours later; after a successful flight with Peter ;I finally have a break before my next flight.

Drew comes in and I am about to say something when my scars begin to burn insanely.

Panicking; I run into the washroom.

I face an alarming sight.

On my face; my red scratch marks are showing very clearly.

And worst still; they for a define scratchilly-written word on my face.

The word says:killer.

● ● ●