Public Enemy

☣️002☣️

"Oho! Cyrus, there you are!" I hear the old woman squeal as I assume Grandpa has made his way down the stairs.

My train of self-deprecating thoughts is immediately derailed when I hear him calling for me, and I stuff the rest of my sandwich into my mouth and head out to see what he needs. 

"Sorry to bother you, but could you run this to the post office? I asked Annie but she's in the middle of something. " He holds out an envelope with a bright pink lipstick print on it; clearly it belongs to Clarice.

I slowly nod and take it, knowing that meant she'd probably be sticking around for a while. I don't dislike her by any means, but she's very... tiring. That, and she only really comes around to see Grandpa, who simply tolerates her. He just just nods and goes about his business as she follows him around talking away, sometimes for hours on end, telling the same few stories several times over. He's clearly never fully engaged in what she was saying, but she never seems to mind. I guess she just needs someone to talk to.

I head out down the busy sidewalk with my hands in my jacket pockets, gritting my teeth as people knock me in every which direction. The loud chatter, indistinguishable shouting, and revving engines begin to eat away at me almost immediately. 

"Get out of my way, you assholes!" I hear a man's voice hollering over top of the rumble of a motorbike, "I've been waiting here for like five minutes!"

"Whatever, old man!" Another male voice shouts back, "If you wanna get by so bad, go ahead and hit me!"

"The light's green!" 

"So what?!" 

Several other voices begin chiming in, and soon a roaring street brawl breaks out. This kind of thing is a daily occurrence here, and most people don't even bat an eye, including myself as I continue on my way.

Finally, I step off into the refreshingly empty post office. The only other people inside are older, and likely the only ones who keep this place up and running since nobody in the younger generations really mail anything anymore. Soft beats play over the speakers overhead and ease my tension just a little. 

After tossing the envelope into the outgoing mail slot, I draw in a deep breath before stepping back out into the madness beyond the doors. As I turn to head back for the shop, I notice someone staring at me from just a few feet away. I look around trying to see if there's anyone else he could be looking at, but there isn't.

As I take one last glance at him, I'm instantly somewhere else, and I see the white walls from my dream again. In front of me, coming into focus, is a young boy with dark, messy hair. He's very familiar, though I can't place why, or who he is. He's visibly shaken, as if something truly awful has just happened. His nose is bleeding, and the blood is dripping onto the floor in front of him, as well as splattering all over his white clothes.

When I snap back to reality, the man is still staring at me, and people are beginning to shout at me for standing in their way. I shake my head and continued on my way, glancing over my shoulder every few moments and growing fearful as it becomes clear he's following me. Thankfully, about a block before the shop, I finally lose him after weaving through groups of people and I return to work safely. I can't seem to shake what I saw though, even despite that strange guy. It all happened so fast, and didn't make much sense to me.

After dinner I linger around until Annie goes to bed, and soon after she does, Grandpa comes and sat next to me at the kitchen table in his usual fashion; tilting his head back and narrowing his eyes at me to let me know that he knows something's up.