"Give them pleasure - the same pleasure they have when they wake up from a nightmare."
~Alfred Hitchcock
The banging on my door became more audible the longer I fought the urge to answer it. I didn't necessarily want company this evening, and why would anyone visit me at this time of day? The only person I could think of was Hayden. Perhaps it was; all the more reason to avoid answering the door.
Turning on my portable radio, I cranked up the volume to tune out the thundering echo ringing through the apartment.
"Corin I swear to god if you don't open this door!" Emmalyn's empty threat had me rolling my eyes as I hurried to the door.
"What are you doing here?" I questioned as she pushed herself in and stalked into the kitchen.
"You've been acting distant lately... I had to make sure you were okay!" She glanced around her upper lip curling. "Why does this apartment always look so dreary and, and... morose? You need some cheering up!"
"I don't think an apartment can be morose..." I insisted. "Please don't touch that!" I yelled as she sprung over my counter and to the radio to begin flicking through the stations.
"Nobody listens to classical music anymore, either. We're in the 21st century; you have some uploading you need to do! There," she said victoriously as a steady beat replaced Pachelbel's Canon in D major. "Start rocking out to the good old Beatles!" she exclaimed as she began dancing around my kitchen.
"Emmalyn, the Beatles were the twentieth century!" I loudly reminded her over the roar of the music. I hoped my neighbors wouldn't send in complaints to our landlord.
"Whatever, Corin! They're more up to date than the crap you were listening to!" she laughed, as she shimmied around the counters. "Quoting the Beatles: 'Roll over Beethoven!'"
"It wasn't Beethoven I was listening to, you smart ass! It was-"
"I don't have time for you lecture on 15th-century music; leave a message after the beep!"
I rolled my eyes at the friend who wanted to major in Sociology. She would get far in life, that was a definite positive, but she did have her moments. Over the blare of the music, I could barely hear the ringing phone in the other room. Rushing over, I pushed one hand against one ear and the phone against the other, scrunching my nose. I could barely hear the voice on the other line.
"Corin!" a voice on the other end exclaimed; after a pause, "What's that noise?"
"Beatles," was my one-worded reply. "Matthias, is that you?"
"Uhm, yeah. Listen, if this is a bad time I can call back later."
YOU ARE READING
Incubus
Narrativa generale*Completed* In the city of New York, twenty-one-year-old Corin Baxter is still adjusting to her new college life before it starts up again. But the nightmares she seemed to suffer from since childhood come back to haunt her, and she is unsure of why...
