Like You Better Dead

3

I trade the small, slender knife in my hands for a larger, sharper one, one more durable for handling the next task on my closing agenda of slicing thick lemons rather than ripe tomatoes. I poke the edge of the prospective tool against the tip of my finger and check its smooth, shiny surface for scratches, before deciding this particular silver knife will be good enough for the job.

I maze through the kitchen of Ben's Cafe carefully to make sure I don't slip on the slick floor after a full day of it enduring spills and messes, until I successfully reach the counter of the salad bar to resume stocking its contents of full, fresh vegetables so it will be prepared for another busy day tomorrow. Ben's Cafe was packed today, as it usually is on a Friday. It's a cute but rather upscale sandwich shop and coffee cafe for the city's working force, though Saturday will still see its fair share of family brunches and friendly gatherings.

I've worked at Ben's Cafe since the beginning of last year, to help support myself through my senior year of high school. Waitressing provides enough money to get by on food and basic necessities plus the cost of rent, but doesn't quite cover college tuition. I can't even think about having enough time for a college schedule anyway, right now, with my focus being on building my savings. I promise myself I'll go in a few years, when I'm in a stable situation and an environment which could allow for such a commitment. But I'm definitely not ready for that now, especially with my shifts at Ben's Cafe being a full time job.

Thinking about finances and the possibilities of the future has my mind reeling with a reminder of anxiety, that familiar, dreaded sensation of nervousness. I barely survived high school, so the thought of college leaves a bad taste on my tongue. I remind myself that my situation will be better when I'm ready for college than high school, I'll make sure of it — which is the only thought that really brings comfort, a quiet confidence that eventually, all will pay off. I won't feel the stress of the instability that has followed me so far, eventually, if I'm better prepared for the future.

High school was an interesting journey, and I'm ready to close that chapter. I've tried to leave it in the past, but my relationship with Calloway and its effects have made it a struggle to let it all go. In many ways, I belonged to Calloway, and even when I should have been free, he still kept his claws deep in my back, holding me to him, bound by his relentless control. I suppose he's gone, now, though it doesn't feel that way. Not yet. But it's still fresh, his death. Accepting he's actually gone after years of torment won't be an easy thought to finally believe.

It just feels like he's still here, watching me, whether that be paranoia or just my mind playing cruel tricks on me. Calloway's presence seems to still be lingering somehow, in one way or another alive in my head. It's ridiculous to give in to such thoughts, but I can't help it. I feel that at any moment, he could sneak up behind me, or when I step out from the kitchen, he'll be waiting for me expectantly at a table. He's here somewhere, and he'll find me.

But I'm alone in the restaurant. I know this, so I must be paranoid or plain crazy to feel so haunted. And despite the fact that I'm the last one here closing up the shop, there's the little detail that Calloway is dead. He can't stalk me at work anymore because he's no longer breathing, let alone functioning enough to scare me now. I'm probably simply feeling so watched and weirded out because I'm sensitive to the reality that I am here alone, and this old building has never held a friendly aura when no one else is in it. I'm just creeped out, that is all.

And it's not because Calloway is in my mind, but because Ben's Cafe is a scary place to be alone in at night, a typical, rational fear anyone would feel, not me explicitly. Nothing weird is going on, nothing out of the ordinary. There is no reason to feel uneasy and unnerved, and I feel the exact same way as I always do when it's my turn to finish cleaning the kitchen.