With All Else Gone (Jeff The Killer)

Terror

A normal day. As normal as it got for Brianna. Yes, Brianna, going about her morning routine. Even if the tangible darkness and anger hung in the air just a little more than usual; even if, perhaps, things looked more down than normal, and when normal peered over the edge into the sea of abysmal nothing, she still managed to tilt her head up and move forward.
         No alarm. No need for one. Perhaps the air hung lower as she had recently lost her job, not of her faults thankfully. She wasn't useless. The only thing her apartment rang with was silence. What usually was found to be a dreadful silence of loneliness only seemed empty today, like even the loneliness had left her.
Her head gently lifted from the soft pillow it had previously laid on, and with that the day had started. Glum was the mood, same as the sky, a moody gray blocking the view of the sun. This shone through her window, and woke her further. At least the sleep was good. She supported herself with her arms, getting onto her knees with effort. God was she tired... For now, she would rub her eyes with an audible yawn.
Ah, consciousness. Really didn't miss you. She sat up more, looking down upon her half naked body. What to do today...

         The microwave beeped, though she hadn't heard it too clearly. It was just a faint noise, drowned out by the faucet spouting water she would use to wash her face. She hummed softly, dabbing her face dry. She would set it all aside, wrinkling her nose while she gazed at the reflection of herself. At least the morning was beginning to feel better, right? Out of the bathroom, feeling a brisk breeze hit her right when she left the door.

The window? Did I really leave that open? All night? I don't think so...
Ugh, whatever. It was fine either way with how nice it was outside, and the apartment got warm in the living room. She would slink on over to the kitchen, patting down her clothing. Simple lounging attire. Brianna let her fingers pull the microwave open, looking at yesterday's dinner.

Damn, microwaved pizza from half a day ago. Things really were looking down. She needed a job, and soon. Seemed that would be today's objective.
Job searching wasn't the most fun, though she was confident it wouldn't take long.

Even if breakfast was poorly heated, rather soggy pizza, it was good nonetheless. Her mind wouldn't be taken off of it as she temporarily let it sit. Her blue orbs danced around the welcoming apartment, examining every little crevice that something, or someone, could be hiding in. Why? Turns out something could take her mind off of food; that damned window.

Some evil murderer must have opened it up and broke in!

Where is my wallet? Is anything else taken? Wh-

Her mind began to freak out, look to the worst. Nothing good ever happened, only bad! This must be...

A realization hit her. A heavy one.

You live in an apartment, floors up. What, is someone going to scale the side of the building to your window like a super villain? Gravity wouldn't allow it to happen. You left it open, you dunce.

A brief sigh of relief ran by, calming her nerves. Pizza time.

         The shadows stalked her, slinking lower and lower when she approached. Around and around she'd go, sanity damned and out the window. Thunder. Lightning. There was nothing else with quite the impact to Bri. A storm, nothing else, was enough to bring her to tears; a trembling mess in her mother's bed as a child. It was easier to deal with now, though the roots of this fear were deep and unending. The patter of rain outside soon turned into more of a flurry, and her heart rate picked up.
Calm down.
She went to the open window, seeing some rain had found a place on the window sill and sadly the floor. Damn. She closed that quickly, twisting the window lock. Even staring outside brought a sizzle to her nerves. She turned away, yanking the curtain closed. Her hands worked quickly, pulling the drawer of her desk open, then diving in to grasp her blockade device. Out came the headphones, and her phone. Plugged in, she would go flip something on. Anything to block out the noises, something loud. Documentary on fear. Strange, but it will work. She pulled up her old laptop, taking her seat at the desk and flipping it open.