The Purple Line

chapter 1: someone is following me

I've never been one to scare easily, but after this past week, I can't help but to think that I have a stalker. I'm no stranger to being alone and vulnerable, walking home at night and taking the  train around the city, however I was never afraid of something happening. Sure, you heard all kinds of stories on the news, and I'd heard plenty from my friends, not to mention that I often get a colourful array of comments thrown my way most of the time, but you never think it'll happen to you. I guess youth makes you feel invincible, or maybe it's the fact that I simply had no other option. 

I knew the city pretty well, and was usually out and about seeing as I had some friends who were already in college, and because I had about zero parental supervision. These last nights, my manager put me on the night shift, so that meant I'd been commuting long after sunsuet, especially if I was meeting someone. The bakery I worked at was right in the heart of downtown, so we mostly had very few customers after rush hour, and at around seven o'clock, I closed the shop and went to the back to bake for the next day. The shop was owned by an old friend of my mom's, so she had given me a key shortly after I had started there and learned to bake well enough to do it without her supervision in order for me to be able to lock up after I left on nights where she didn't feel like staying late. 

The air was cool tonight and you could tell that it was the last few weeks of November where we would be able to see the ground. Pretty soon, there'd be snow and sludge everywhere around the city. After making sure the door was properly locked, I began my walk to the subway. I liked to keep a quick pace, and I had music playing low in my ears. I pulled out my phone and the blue light immediately lit up my face, a blinding contraste from the dimly lit street. A few texts popped up on my screen. Some from my friends at school, one from my mom, two from my dad, and a few from my groupchat with my college friends. 

Leia: Going out tonight. Catch us before we're fucked up, we'll be at Ethan's. If not, we're probably already at the bar a few streets down from school. 

I rolled my eyes. I had no intention of going to meet her at her boyfriend's place, or at the trashy bar next to her college for that matter. I contemplated, and then came to the conclusion that maybe going back to my empty apartment completely sobber and before midnight on a Friday was kind of lame.

Me: I'll be at the bar, you guys can't still be at Ethan's. 

Radio silence.

Me: Btw Ethan and his friends have small dicks and need to find new conversation starters. I don't care about hockey.

She was typing.

Leia: GREAT! see you soon:)

To be honest, the real reason I was hesitant to stay out late tonight was , again, about my stalker. Well, I'm not completely sure that I do  have a stalker, but lately I've just been feeling super observed. I think there's a normal amount of "observed" a girl should feel, and this is definitely more than that. It's never happened before, but lots of things that have never happened before have been happening to me nowadays. Call me crazy, and I might be, but there have been more than a few times this month where I thought I caught falling objects before they ever touched my hands, as if I'd stopped them from falling. It must have just been me imagining things to be far more exciting than they actually were, but it still felt so real. 

***

Looking up at the neon sign above the door, I almost felt queezy. All of my texts to Leia, Tabetha and yes, unfortunately, Ethan too, had gone unanswered. The thought of going into this bar and them not being there was sort of scary, more for the fact that I'd look super random sitting there alone, spaced out, in the middle of happy patrons, rather than the fact that I actualy disliked much social interraction in places with inebriated people. After a few deep breaths, I stepped through the door. The smell hit me first. It wasn't a bad smell, sort of sweet but doused In the scent of hard liquor. The lights were neon purple and the decor in this palce was a mess. The bar was on the left wall and at the back of the room was a small stage where I've actually watched a few bands play gigs, but when it was only some singers or dancers occupying it, the floor was usually taken up by couches and pig pillows and table more towards the bar area. Curtains hung low everywhere and overall, It just felt like a glorified basement with a chic crackden theme.