1 <Chapter 1>

My home was the definition of "perfect", and by perfect, I meant perfectly still.

Not an utter of noise coming from children's crying or fighting, no screaming and arguing from a wife, no disturbing sound from the television or radio - all in all, no distraction at all. Especially while I was having a man-to-fish word of advise with my only roommate, Sam triple zero eight.

"Do tell me Sam triple zero eight, how is it that the woman from page two hundred and twenty three was totally mad?" I asked him and he was lost in deep thought. It was a befuddling question indeed, "perhaps she was cursed?" I asked again, and the wind gushed in via my open windows. "Sam triple zero eight, do say something." Snorting at my funny question I realized why my roommate hadn't uttered any reply. "I know right? There is no such thing as a curse."

Sunday morning was going so well as it usually did. It was my day off like it used to be every Sundays and I was having the day of my life.

You see, I whisked and made coffee for customers at a mini cafe shop not too far from my house. Every other times when I wasn't making coffee or tea, I was indoors gisting with my only roommate.

"I condemn the author that made this novel, Sam triple zero eight, it's rather... disappointing."

Fun facts about me; I hated people. People hated me. The balance was pleasantly acceptable by me. One time at work I'd even heard a co-worker called me the-Squidward-from-spongebob.

Exactly why I hate them.

That morning I'd just gotten up and, traditionally, said my good mornings to Sam triple zero eight, then the story stroke up. We were having a conversation of a book I'd just finished reading, 'No, Mr Harry Botter, do not turn me into a witch.'

Believe me, it was a real book alright. The author was named Harry Botter, so he was the main character of his novel.

Stories like that, what do they call them again? Paranormal stories, they were always fun to read. Partly because they were stupid, other part, they were nonsense. Nothing but ridiculous lies.

"Say, Sam triple zero eight, what should we do today?"

My roommate turned around in excitement. He was hungry.

"Of course, we should make breakfast first."

****

Walking down the streets of Brooklyn, I fixed my gaze straight on the road, ignoring the faces of people around me. Before my eyes was a wide and partly quiet arena with only a muffled chattering of people doing their business. I knew not most of the faces I'd passed by, others that were familiar were Pitt's Cafe customers I served tea and coffee to at my workplace. Some of them stopped to say hello, but my impulsive side never gave them a listening ear.

I hated you all, why bother?

Ah, there we were. Just one ingredient for my special Sunday pancakes. Sugar.

The doors of the mini mart before me swung opened at the contact of my hand, pushing it forward. Not many people were lurching around, and it was good news for me. I walked over to the sugar section and my eyes instantly caught what I was looking for.

"Mr Bernstein!" A shrill hoarsed female voice from behind hollered out and I almost jumped out of my skin.

What was she doing here? Her voice was disturbingly annoying as every time she uttered words from her mouth, they creeped out my soul deep inside of me.

Behind me was a middle-aged thin-lipped Blondie. Not that this woman wasn't beautiful in her own way. But that was it. She was only beautiful on the inside, I presume she would say that to herself.

As for me, each time my eyes took a glimpse of her face, they'd almost want to shut back tight and never opened again. Her lips revealed an ugly color of matted purple lipsticks and plastered across her pallid cheeks as usual, were women's rosey red blush makeup. I don't quite understand why that part of their make ups was required. They'd painted their face with all kinds of dashing colorful things, then as a final touch, ruin it with a complete different shade of bright colors; sometimes pink, red, orange, white... I'd never understand women.

"Mrs Sandy," I called out, acting as normal as I could. Mrs Sandy had been a nanny we hired to cater for my daughter years ago when she was still little. My wife didn't trust me around our daughter, so she hired a nanny do all the motherly duties. My daughter was all grown up now and needed a nanny no more, but this woman wouldn't stop bothering me.

"Oh I am so happy to see you here, you're back." She said, grinning rather ominously.

"Oh yes, I am. But only for today." I said, hoping she would leave me alone. I'd mentioned it to her I traveled the last time we saw, perhaps around two days ago.

"Oh, really?" Her thick brows furrowed, "already?"

"Yes." I said a little too quickly, "yes, already I'm afraid."

"Well where to this time?"

"Uhhhh," it was my chance. I had to be far away from her. My brain though hard for countries far from New York. "China!" I said, hoping my lies wouldn't sound filtered.

She gasped at the mention of the country like it was some treacherous land. "What for?"

"Oh uhh, well- interview. Yes, I'm going to china for an interview."

"Interview?" She screamed out. "Oh my God, why would any one travel that far for a mere interview—"

"—Could you, uh, could you lower your voice, Mrs Sandy-"

"—I'm just so surprised by the news. Please forgive me."

Mrs Sandy was not from Brooklyn, or Manhattan or New York. She was from another country entirely, I'm sure I'll never be able to remember from it's complicated name. But, she did visited her sister in Williamsburg sometimes, and every time, managed never to miss a trip down to Brooklyn. TO SEE ME. As she'd always claimed.

"Oh, that's so sad. I was thinking of visiting, that's why I'm here." Her voice high and querulous yelled again, "I think I am lost, Mr Bernstein, for I do not have a place to stay for the night."

People stopped to stare at the strange woman, and I hated that they'd see me relating with her. "Shhh! Uh, Mrs Sandy, I'm afraid I won't be of much help to you." I said, hushing her.

"What am I going to do now? When will you be back?"

When would I be back? When would I be back?

"Hopefully, never." I blurted out. Her eyes were too wide opened I feared they could bulge out any moment soon, "because, the pay is really nice it would make me wealthy. I don't want to return."

"That is not such good news, Mr Bernstein. Why run so far away?"

"Well, it, it's not my fault. They called me and wanted to hire me. I can't refuse, you know." My head was high up, standing firmly on my lies. If only she could had seen through my repeated blinking and pacing heartbeat, she would have been able to sense the fear out my guts at once."I'm afraid, you may never see me again." Adopting the most sweetest smile my face could come up with, I went back to my shopping, hoping she would have left already. Hopefully, permanently.

From my life of course, and not from the cosmos. After several moments, my eyes caught the sugar, and I picked it up. Ready for consumption, it was.

As I turned to go pay for my pre- goods, this woman was still standing behind me, eyes bulging out. "Oh Lord gracious! You're still here, Mrs Sandy."

"It's alright. From here, I'm going to meet my priest." She said, frowning vigorously. Doubly desperate she looked. 

"Priest?"

"Yes." Her jaw tensed and jutted slightly forward. "You will never get that job." And with that, she stomped out of my sight.

When I tell you I hated humans, Mrs Sandy was one of the reasons why. But it wasn't more of the hate part, it was a lot more on the fearful part.

I feared humans.

****

Away from ominous Mrs Sandy, I got my sugar and hurriedly left the mini mart. I was almost a few minutes home when a strong sonorous woman's voice halted me to stop. She knew my full name. I didn't move an inch, waiting for the mysterious woman to appear at my sight. For seconds now I was humming and waiting. When I ran out of my patient humming song, I was forced to turn back.

What I saw was rather disappointing. A black bird on the ground, eating what seemed to be either an earthworm or a snake. A shoelace sized serpentine thing. Heaving in a deep breath, I turned forward and began walking up to my doorstep.

"Mr Elmer Perry Bernstein," the voice called again, but now it was a calm male's voice. It was shrill but distance, quite authoritative.

Perhaps the humans I detested were pulling pranks on me?

Ignoring the voice, I continued my business, maintaining my normal walking pace. No fool was going to rob me off my peaceful relaxing Sunday.

Once inside, I went straight to my kitchen. Time for breakfast. My roommate would have to wait until I was finished, then we'd eat together. The ingredients were now ready; the eggs, milk, sugar, baking powder, my favorite silver whisk I got from Germany, an orange bowl my daughter had sent me as a gift one time, a pinch of salt and of course the chocolates!

The phone buzzed in the living room, interrupting my moment in the kitchen. Another human was bothering.

Perhaps my boss, Mr Shadwell? I walked towards it and unfortunately when I got to it, it was still ringing.

"Hello?"

"Elmer," the voice spoke from the phone. My wife. "How is it going with you?" She asked, loud and disturbed she sounded.

"It's Sunday, so I'm good." I told her. We weren't really the perfect husband and wife you probably use to know of. We don't even live together, at least not anymore.

"Good for you then." She replied and a distinct chattering was heard.

"Marian, are you busy with your acting stuffs? It's alright if you're quite busy."

"Of course I'm always busy. People who have work and are successful usually are." Her voice cold and blaring spoke.

"Yes of course, if so. Then why have you called?"

I heard a sigh from her side. One that frequently happened with Marian because the woman was an over dramatic one. "Elmer, if you are always so much of a pathetic looser, you won't ever find any help." She said, another voice interrupting. She spoke, but not to me. I just had to placed the phone on my ear, waiting till it was my cue again. "As I was saying, I wish you let your pride aside and come begged me for money."

"I don't need it, thank you."

"So stubborn as usual. Have it your way then. Anyway, I'm busy. Don't call me again till next week Friday." She said and I replied with a slight nod, forgetting she wouldn't notice, then did her the favor of hanging up.

Once again, my environment was filled with quietness and serenity. Back to the kitchen to finish up my pancakes.

I wasn't a fan of the television. What is there to see these days? Back then, my favorite channel was the discovery channel. I'd once watched them discovered the great garden of Eden and Noah's Ark. Now I watch a strange man record himself and talk about boring impossible stories on how to survive in the woods. That Sunday, I decided to watch TV, but only for the pain that would come with it.

My wife, Marian wass an actress and a successful one at that. She never forgot to remind me every time she got the chance. There was a show that was usually hosted every Sunday, and she was always the face of attention. There, they'd ask her a few questions about her career, then personal life and each time a question about her husband popped up, Marian always succeeded in making my life a misery. She'd say things like; "he was a regret for a husband", or "I would have never married him, I must had been insane back then", then the reporter would ask her why she was still married to me and had not yet filled for a divorce. I always loved that reporter. He was an exception of the humans I detested.

Life is a balance of good and evil, ups and downs. My morning was too much peaceful. I needed a form of heartbreak, thus, I tuned in to watch my wife say disastrous things about poor me.

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