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“Fuck this,” I growled as an overwhelming anger took hold. With the stress, it didn’t even shock me. High amounts of anxiety or stress always sent me into one of these waves. Uncontrollable anger or sadness, or whatever emotion felt like tormenting me at the time. They were all-consuming, pulsing stronger with each breath I took until I had to get it out. One way or another.

My hand shook as I fought to dispel it before I gave myself away. The officers may have left, but I doubted they went far.

All of that was forgotten at the sight of the crowbar resting on a table nearby. My hands wrapped around the cold metal before I even realized what I was doing. A grin slid over my face as I smashed it into the brick pillar near me. The impact was so strong my teeth chattered, but I was already cocking my arm back and slamming it down again. The chunks of brick and dust falling sounded like rain, and it had a cathartic effect. Soon, all thoughts were gone and all I was and all I knew was destruction. Tables, chairs, walls, crates, boxes, anything left here in this abandoned building was subject to my unwavering anger. Each swing of my arm had the shadows in here with me moving further away until I stopped noticing them altogether.

“Feel better?” Monty’s voice cut through the silence as I stood amidst the wreckage. His voice was teasing as usual, but he always spoke gentler after these outbursts.At least my mind can be kind to me once in a while.My chest was heaving and my muscles ached, but all I felt was free and giddy.

“Yes, I do,” I answered as I threw down the crowbar. As I glanced around the dark warehouse, lit only by emergency lights and moonlight, I realized the shadows were gone. A temporary reprieve from my personal plague. “Is it safe?” He was circling along the windows, his eyes focusing back on me at the question. Monty was the only hallucination that talked back to me, I may as well take advantage of it.

“Is it ever?” His voice was mysterious as he stopped in front of me. He was easily seven feet of a monstrous nightmare. Two winding horns raised over his head and his glowing blue eyes focused on me. His features were more defined this close. The shadows receded to display an open rib cage, blue fire burning bright where his organs should have been. His bony face ended in a point, like a helmet and bone fused together to form his visage.

“No,” I admitted. “But I’d rather not be sent to a state facility. Give me the streets over prison any day.”

“Then have the streets.” He gestured to the door, shadow figures lining the wall once more as if to show me the way. They were fairly harmless as far as my hallucinations went. They didn’t talk to me like Monty, and they didn’t have features like my more terrifying ones. In this moment, it was as if Monty could control them. But I didn’t want to linger, dissecting my waking nightmares. So I took that as my cue to leave.

His footsteps followed behind me until I stepped out into the streetlights. The door closed with a thud behind me, and for a brief moment, I wondered what he did to pass the time when he wasn’t around.

Nothing.

You made him up.

You’re crazy, remember?

Fuck... I was right. Sometimes he felt so real that I had to remind myself he was just in my lonely mind, nothing more.

The walk to the hostel was full of terrifying figures and monsters again. The run-in with the fucking cops had my skin crawling to the point I wanted to scream. Whatever reprieve I’d gotten from slamming the crowbar around was long gone. Now I was a walking ball of stress, and I longed for that comfortably numb feeling.

My key was in my hand before I even reached the front door, so I didn’t have to fumble with it or linger as I made my way to my private room. Generally, hostel private rooms were expensive, but this place only had the small rooms, barely bigger than a closet, and they were cheap enough that even I could afford one. For a few days at a time, at least.

The faded walls and lumpy mattress had never looked so damn inviting. I locked my door, stripped, then flopped onto the bed. The ceiling fan whirred above me, pushing stale air around as I slowly gave into my exhaustion.

“You’re safe.” The words were part of my daily mantra, and I clung to them with everything I had. Because things have and could be awholelot worse.

This was my current home sweet home, while the money lasted at least.

* * *

Harlow

Saturday Morning

“Wake up!”Monty’ shrill voice had me sitting up so fast my head spun.

“What the fuck, Monty?” I groaned, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

“You need to leave.” That was all he gave me before he was gone again. The whispering outside of my door was too close to miss the word ‘cops,’ and I hurried over, listening closely.

“They’re looking for her. She’s calling it in now. She broke into a building downtown and did a ton of damage. The silent alarm went off and cameras had her face all over them,” they whispered. That was enough for me to pack my backpack and push open my window. I’d been on this fire escape enough nights to know how to use it effectively.

I was out the door and halfway down the block before the cop cars were parking in front. My time here was officially over.

“Hey! Stop!” I turned. Sure enough, they were already running after me.

“Shit,” I cursed, putting everything I had into running around the corner and through the crowd, coming face to face with another cop.

“Stop!” he bellowed. Even as I tried to run again, I was grabbed from behind, two officers slamming me to the ground hard enough that my teeth chattered at the impact. The harsh treatment had every cut and bruise I’d gotten yesterday at the warehouse throbbing in response.

“What’s with this brutality?” I growled.


Tags: Jarica James Paranormal