Voices In The Alley

There are three major things you need to know if you want to live in Bay City.

1. There are no actual bays in Bay City

2. It's always cold at night in Bay City, especially after it rains.

3. Bay City is most dangerous at night so you shouldn't stay out late.

Mercedes was one of the many people who moved to Bay City without knowing any of these three must-knows only to be hit in the face by reality and in her case spend a lot of time sulking about it afterwards.

In her rush to get away from her bad memories and the stifling presence of her mom and sister, she'd moved to Bay City without doing any research. The thing she felt was important back then was that her uncle lived in Bay City and that alone was enough for her to pack up and leave.

Of course, apart from the initial regret she felt for not making enough preparations, she also got an ear full from her uncle when she arrived at his house with her luggage.

Now more than three years have passed since she started living in Bay City and Mercedes can proudly say she knows everything there is to know about this city.

Of course this only applies to the things and places she's interested in but for the first time in a while, Mercedes is completely unprepared for all the currents Bay City has to offer.

Mercedes shivers for the umpteenth time tonight as the cold wind brushes against her exposed skin, her long dark brown hair flutters in the wind and a trail of goosebumps rise on her skin with each touch of the wind.

Her nose is already stinging from the cold air, her cheeks have gone numb after taking multiple hits from the passing breeze and the little puffs of air she blows on her hands to warm them up come out slightly fogged.

'Why is it so damn cold in this city?'

Mercedes doesn't know how many times she's asked herself this question over the years, she's mildly susceptible to cold but ended up moving to a city that's cold.

She's thought about moving back home many times but the mere thought of being under one roof or in the same city as her mother and sister again sent the thought away every time.

Mercedes tugs on her coat trying to make it cover up the exposed parts of her skin being ravaged by the cold, but it doesn't help much. After all, when she'd picked out her outfit this morning, she didn't expect to work overtime or be going back home so late.

The coat is barely keeping her warm and the only thing Mercedes hates more than being in a cold place is being cold herself.

The street she's walking on is narrow, empty, and quiet, the only sound she's able to hear is the faint sound of traffic in the distance and the more she walks the fainter the sounds become; soon enough it's only the sound of her hurried footsteps that echo in the empty street, breaking the silence that's settled in the air.

It's quite normal for someone walking alone at night in a deserted street like this one to be anxious, except they're a highly trained individual who's capable of self-defense and immune to fear, of course.

But Mercedes who's an introvert through and through is as anxious as it gets. In the unsettling silence, Mercedes finds herself jumping at the slightest sound or movement and looking over her shoulder every now and then.

After getting a bad fright from stepping on a bubblegum wrapper, Mercedes quickens her pace and clutches the strap of her bag tightly within her sweaty palms.

'Where is it?' Mercedes thinks as her eyes scan her surroundings, using the faint moonlight to aid her search.

She lets out a breath of relief when her eyes land on the familiar washed-out poster of a burger eating contest at the entrance of a connecting alley up ahead.

'Thank goodness, it's still here' she thinks.

Mercedes hasn't used this route to go home in a long time so it's both familiar and unfamiliar to her, it's been so long that finding this connecting alley in particular would've been difficult without the poster.

She always tries to get off work early these days and, in her opinion, who wouldn't if they have a cute dog waiting for them at home?

Since she clocks out on time these days, she's able to take the bus back home and hasn't had the need to use this route but back in her days as an intern when she worked overtime almost every day, this alley was her saving grace.

Each time she left her apartment back then she'd always carry a thick coat or jacket to keep her warm when she's coming back at night unlike today when she's so unprepared.

She'd found this place one day after she got lost while trying to escape a burglar, her own little shortcut that leads to her apartment complex after a few twists and turns, it saves her almost thirty minutes of walking the long way.

Mercedes transitions from a brisk walk to a jog, making a beeline to the alley and once she steps in, she feels herself starting to relax, a subconscious reaction after stepping into the comfort of a familiar place. As she makes her way through the alley, Mercedes falls back to the old pass time she used whenever she walked through here in the past– venting.

While some people scream into their pillows or use stress balls to relieve stress, Mercedes finds her own outlet in just letting it all out.

Back when she was an intern, she'd use the entire trek home to just say everything she kept bottled up during the day and her victim today is none other than the two-faced scoundrel who dumped his work on her at the last minute and made her work overtime today, who she so lovingly bestowed the name 'Dennis the douche bag'.

The curses roll off her tongue with ease at the mere thought of him and soon the sound of her footsteps is accompanied by her cursing.

Perhaps, if 'Dennis the douchebag' had left his work for her because he had an emergency to attend to Mercedes wouldn't be so pissed, but he didn't, because in all honesty what kind of 'serious emergency' has you laughing over the phone while making plans?

The most irritating part about it all is that when he came to ask a 'favor' from her Mercedes couldn't refuse, she just had to suck it up and accept the fact that she was his target today.

'Stupid nepotism!'

As she imagines him taking the credit for all her hard work tomorrow with that smug smile he always has plastered on his face, a scowl twists Mercedes' lips and another round of curses bubble up in her gut.

When she opens her mouth to let it out though, all that comes out is a loud sneeze that echoes in the alley. She got so riled up that she forgot how cold it is, she pulls out some tissues from her bag knowing that won't be the end of it.

"Achoo!"

Just as she expected, Mercedes sneezes a few more times after that, and amidst the constant sneezing she hears a small, "Bless you."

"Thank you" she replies while wiping her nose.

Two seconds after her reply, Mercedes pauses her actions as the exchange registers in her head and the realization that she might not be the only one in the alley dawns on her. Mercedes trembles and it has nothing to do with how cold she is.

'Who just spoke?'

Her eyes scan the dimly lit alley searching for the source of the voice, one hand over her heart that's pounding fiercely in her chest while the other rummages through her bag for her trusty pepper spray.

This street is one that people hardly visit especially at night, she'd never run into anyone when she went through the alley in the past.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" she calls out but all she gets is silence. A silence that makes her doubt whether she heard anything in the first place.

Just as she starts questioning her hearing, Mercedes hears a noise up ahead; the sound is faint so faint she almost missed it. Her voice trembles slightly as she asks, "Who's there?"

She's once again met with silence which her brain sees as an opportunity to nag and it says, 'Very smart, Mercedes. Now the person is going to come out, introduce theirself along with the last three generations in their family just because you asked'

Mercedes doesn't have time for her brain's nagging as her thoughts start running wild... a little too wild.

'What if it's a thief? A robber? A kidnapper? A trafficker? A pervert?'

Mercedes trembles at the thought and starts contemplating her options.

The last bus of the day had already left by the time she got off work, her phone is dead so there's no way to call an Uber which leaves walking as her only option.

Now, she has to choose between taking the long way round which is almost an hour of walking or sticking it out in this alley where a potentially dangerous person might be and getting to her apartment in a few minutes.

Mercedes doesn't spend as much time as she thought she would, thinking about it. After comparing the pros and cons of both options, she decides to go with the one that will make her spend less time out in the cold and reduce her chances of turning into a human popsicle.

'The alley it is'

After spending God knows how long 'prepping' herself, Mercedes finally starts walking again. Her steps are light, her eyes move around frantically searching for any movement and her finger on the pepper spray is poised ready to shoot at any moment.

She hears hushed voices up ahead and for a split second contemplates going the long way, but the thought is instantly banished when she's hit by a blast of cold air that makes her shudder.

Mercedes does the only other thing she can think of at the moment which is to pray desperately.

'Dear Father, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I don't want to die!'

Her footsteps become even lighter as she approaches a stack of cardboard boxes where the voices are coming from which also happens to be right in front of her next turn. Her heart hammers against her ribs and her prayers become even more desperate than before.

Mercedes hears the voices again, coming from right behind the boxes, she holds her breath and listens carefully to the hushed conversation going on there.

"Do you think they're gone?"

"I don't know I can't see anything"

Mercedes only listens this much before her mind goes blank.

If she weren't standing so close to the boxes, confident in her hearing and completely sober Mercedes might've doubted her ears because the two voices coming from behind the boxes are the voices of children.