Backwards

A phone alarm blasts from my bedside table. It’s loud enough to jolt me awake, so I throw my arm over my body and smack the screen repeatedly till the ringing stops. We do this dance every nine minutes as the alarm’s snooze goes off, until I’m finally angry enough to pick up the phone and turn off all the alarms. I’m about to happily lie back down when I see the time. 10:02 A.M. “Oh shit.” I throw the thin top sheet aside and stomp to the bathroom to hurriedly get ready. I’m mid-brushing my teeth when I stop and listen. I peek my head out the bathroom door. “Mom?” No response. She must have gone to run an errand. Dad works in an office every day, so he won’t be home till later, but Mom is a teacher, so she has the summer’s off. I rush back to my room to throw on jeans and a wrinkled polo shirt, swipe some deodorant on, and run down the stairs. Waffles eagerly jumps up, wagging his tail when he sees me. “Hey buddy!” I pet his head as I try to put on my sneakers with one hand, which never works, but I try it anyway. “I’ll take you for a walk later, I promise.” I finish tying my Converse, which is significantly more difficult than a typical pair of sneakers because the laces are falling apart. Waffles likes to chew on them from time to time, but who am I to tell him no? Sometimes he just wants a treat. I grab my keys and bag, give one last pet to Waffles, and make my way out the door. As soon as I turn towards the street, however, I stop short. Mom and Dad’s cars are still in the driveway, which also happen to be blocking my car in. “What the hell?” I half whisper, half groan, and pull my phone out from my pocket. I call both of them but get no answer. I feel a twinge in my stomach as I think for a moment, then send a text to the family group chat. “Hellooo where is everyone and why are the cars still here??” Too lazy to move both of their cars, I take Mom’s instead. It’s hot today, but it’s August, and we’re in a heatwave, so it’s always hot. I roll down the windows and pull out of the driveway, already dripping in sweat. I look out the window as I drive, thankful for the breeze, and it seems odd, only for a moment, that I don’t see anyone outside right now. But with this heat wave, I suppose it makes sense. No one in Atlanta wants to be walking in 95 degrees. As I drive through the streets, though, I don’t even see a single car on the road. It’s still a weekday; although we live in a small town, it’s still full of people who always have things to do. The twinge in my stomach becomes an ache; a familiar feeling caused by my anxiety, but still unpleasant. A few minutes later, as I approach a red light, I see a car in the distance at last. It’s about half a mile up the road and slowly coming towards me. I let out a relieved sigh. The car stops across from me as I try to look at the driver for no reason other than to make sure I’m not totally crazy. I lean forward and squint. The driver is wearing a gray baseball cap, and by the looks of their stature, they seem to be an old person, but for some reason they seem too far away to identify anything else. I guess my eyesight is worse than I thought. The light turns green, and we both pull forward. As the car rolls next to mine, I look out my window to get a better view of the driver, but it’s as if they were going much faster than they actually were because I couldn’t make out a single detail on their face. I do a double take, not believing the mysterious driver only has a gray blur for a face, but that’s all I get, and they slowly drive away. My palms start to sweat, even though nothing is actually wrong. I continue to drive for several minutes in silence until, finally, I pull up to the office of my summer job, and there are three other cars in the lot. Ok, so Dottie, Mike, and Carol must be in, thank god. I quickly park and half sprint to the door but end up slamming into it. “Oh my god.” I rub my forehead where it hit the glass and examine the sign that says PUSH. The lights inside are off, and there’s no sign of anyone. I keep looking anyway, and I swear there’s a quick movement in the dark corner. I step back and look around. I call Dottie; no answer. I call Mike; no answer. I call Carol; no answer. “Right.” I say, telling myself not to panic. I go back to my car and just sit. After a few seconds, I lock the doors. Because why not. “Might as well go back home then.” I turn the keys in the ignition, but the car doesn’t start. I let out a laugh. “Hell no, do not do this.” I turn the keys again. Nothing. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” The car doesn’t budge. “Come ON!” I slam the steering wheel with my fist, and it lets out a pathetic honk. There’s a sound like a crash from inside the tiny office building, and I whip my head towards it. I stare at the building, willing the door to open and Dottie to stroll out with her usual smile, but there’s nothing. After trying to start the ignition again and again, I finally give up and get out of the car. I stare at the building for another minute, then decide to start walking. I take my phone out and text any and all of my friends, but the texts don’t go through. This part of town has no service, of course. I keep walking at a faster-than-average pace, knowing it’s going to take at least an hour, if not more, to get home. Block after block, it’s eerily quiet. No cars in the distance, not even a bird song. I turn a corner and stop dead in my tracks. There’s a deer standing down the street from me, in the middle of the road, utterly still and with its back to me. It’s too far to make out any detail, but I don’t move, and neither does she. “Um, hello?” Nothing. “Hey friend, you ok?” I step towards her and look around for anyone or anything that might explain what’s going on. Without warning, she takes a step towards me. Then another. And another. But she’s walking backwards, in a way that looks unnatural, like she’s walked backwards her whole life and not forwards. I start stumbling over my feet, and the deer picks up the pace, still showing no sign of her face. I turn and run in the other direction. I run and don’t look back till I’m out of breath and far from the animal. I’m breathing so hard it feels like I could die, but I keep looking all around me. There’s no sign of anyone. Suddenly, my phone rings, scaring the shit out of me, if there's any left. It’s Mariana, my best friend and one of the people my texts didn’t go through to earlier. “Mariana??!” I half-scream, still looking wildly around me. “Lynn, oh my god. Are you ok?” “Dude, I don’t know, what the FUCK is happening right now?!” I yell. “I don’t know, my phone hasn’t worked all morning, but I just now got like, a single bar. Where is everyone? Where are you?” She sounds far away, the line coming in and out. “I’m on my way home. My parents are nowhere in sight, and no one was at work, and then my car wouldn’t start, and I just saw a crazy fucking deer on the street.” Mariana’s reply is all static. “Mariana?? Hello? You’re breaking up!” More static. “Shit, shit, shit, please don’t go, Mariana. Please, I’m scared out of my mind, please.” The call drops. “Oh fuck oh fuck.” I fumble with my phone trying to call her back, but it doesn’t go through. I grip the useless phone until my knuckles turn white and continue walking as fast as I can. I start to notice crashed cars on every other street, abandoned. My house at last comes into view in the distance, and I go into a full-on sprint. My hands are shaking so much I can barely unlock the door when I get there, but I finally burst through it, slamming it behind me and locking every bolt on it. Waffles excitedly greets me, blissfully unaware of anything wrong, but I run past him and grab a kitchen chair, propping it under the doorknob. I fall to my knees, panting. Waffles calmly looks at me, tail still wagging slightly. Tears fill my eyes, and I put my arms around him, still unable to catch my breath. Then, a moment later, there’s a rattling. I look up to see the doorknob turning. “No no no.” I run to the family room to look out the window, but no one’s there. I go upstairs to look out a window facing the front of the house for a better view, but still nothing. I try calling Mariana again, and the call fails. I go back downstairs and make sure the back door and all the windows are locked, unsure of what else to do. I sit with Waffles for what feels like hours, listening and waiting. Eventually I start to doze off, exhausted from the running and the fear. 

When I wake with a start, it’s dark, and my phone is ringing. It’s Mariana. I grab my phone and stand up so quickly it makes Waffles jump up off the couch. “Hello? Mariana?” Silence on the other end. “Mari?” I look at the screen to check I’m still connected, then put it back to my ear. “Hello??” Suddenly, Waffles, standing in the front hall, looks at the door and lowers his head, something that usually means he sees another dog when we’re on a walk together. Unable to hide the tremor in my voice, I whisper, “Waffles? What is it, buddy?” I walk towards him hesitantly, but he doesn’t look away from the door and lets out a low growl. I try turning on the lights, frantically, but nothing is working. “Waffles, come with me, buddy, get away from there, come on.” I try pleading with him, but to no avail. I hop on the chair that I placed behind the door to look out the tiny slats of windows above. It’s impossible to see anything outside in the darkness. Waffles begins to bark at whatever looms outside, so I jump down and try to usher him away again, desperately wanting to run and hide like a child. Suddenly, the door begins to open. The chair must have moved when I jumped off it, allowing the door to move freely despite the locks I had triple-checked were in place earlier. Knowing my rescue dog is at least 50 pounds, I snatch him up into my arms and run to the back. The front door opens fully, by itself, revealing no one and nothing but the emptiness of the dark August night.