Tuesday, January 23, 2007

unease

we're driving down some divided highway outside dallas. it's a bright, hazy afternoon, the weekend, probably saturday, i'm not sure. the trees line the road in a wall of green about twenty feet from the shoulder. steep embankments of weedy grass between us and the unspoilt forest of this rapidly developing suburb. i think it's sometime around 92 or 93. i can just tell.

we go flying towards a concrete bridge spanning a dried-out river. suddenly a feeling overwhelms me. i know this place. i know what's coming up on the right. a steep turn-off, a driveway that leads down to an apartment complex by the riverbank. i tell the driver to turn there. from the highway i can already see the complex's swimming pool, filled with mothers and small children splashing around in the bright sun and light blue water. they're happy but this place is mired in darkness.

the driver waits while i walk around the parking lots. even in the sunlight those pine trees towering all around us seem so ominous. maybe its just because i know what happened here. i walk past a real estate agent for the complex. she's telling a prospective tenant about the amenities: swimming pool, laundry, night watchman, express train being built to tower airport (this must be a flub in the time travel; neither the airport nor the train exist in real life).

i muster up the courage and break into the apartment. its still empty but there aren't any traces of the crime left, no stains, no police detritus. it's dark but there's enough light from outside's brightness to seep in from behind the hanging blinds. i'm terrified being in here but i manage to push open the door to the bedroom, where it actually happened.

the carpeted room is dark and empty, just like the rest of the apartment. i'm standing there, freezing, when i spot the empty pepsi bottle in the corner. it seems like forever before i'm across the room holding it in my hands.

once i peel the label off i see the message in disturbing scrawled pencil, screaming out at me. it reads WHY DID YOU COME TO KILL ME YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO JUMP THROUGH THE PORTAL

this is too much for me. i tap out and i'm back in queens at 3:30 in the morning on the kitchen floor. i can't stop shaking for a good 20 minutes and i certainly can't sleep for the rest of the night. i go to work the next day a ball of nerves, unable to focus on anything.