one

[OCTOBER 30, 2022 — 3:34 P.M.]

Priya walked outside, stopping right after the porch. The autumn air filled her senses; for the most part, it smelled as it usually did. A hint of pumpkin and chocolate wafted into her nose, reminding her for the millionth time that Halloween was at its peak.

She used to love Halloween. She used to love the candy and costumes and the entire package the holiday came in.

Ever since the incident, she didn't think she could handle blood anymore. Three long years of therapy, and yet, the sight of blood made her tremble. Her triggers weren't as bad as they used to be, but she knew that—in the back of her mind—the triggers shouldn't exist to begin with.

Deciding that she had enough of the Halloween air, Priya made her way to the mailbox in front of their house. She didn't dread checking the mail, but bills and rent payments still sparked a somewhat feral instinct in her. She supposed that it was normal though; most adults her age hated losing money.

The mail seemed usual enough when she checked it. There were a few flyers for the annual neighborhood town meeting (too many, in fact) but the rest was manageable.

She almost didn't bother to check in the mailbox again; she would've closed it without a second thought if it weren't for the anxious tic she developed throughout her life: Am I sure that I checked it? Is it done properly?

In hindsight, there was no proper way to check the mailbox. Open, take out mail, and close.

But when she peered into the mailbox, she was surprised to find an envelope wedged right into the ends of the compartment. No one would've seen it if they didn't bother to thoroughly check.

Priya hesitantly grabbed the envelope, pondering about the placement. She was more so shocked on how thin it was around the edges—a bulk of mass centered right in the middle.

Who put it there?

She closed the mailbox and headed back inside the house, clutching the strange envelope in a separate hand away from the normal mail. She would've checked her surrounding much better if she wasn't so distracted by the bulky content inside.

She would've seen someone watch her check the mail.

***

Lori finished storing the leftover cake in the refrigerator, settling back on the island chair near her. She didn't bother doing the dishes; Priya would probably take care of it, and if not, then the dishwasher would do its job for once instead of being an extra storage space of pots and pans.

She heard the front door open and shut, signaling Priya's return. She didn't think about it much, setting her attention to the flour on the kitchen tiles. She didn't realize how much spilled while she was baking until she took a good look. Perhaps she should clean it; roaches would be a problem.

"Hey," Priya called, getting her attention, "Did you order something?"

Lori looked back at Priya, confused. "No?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because," Priya paused, eyeing the envelope in hand—set apart from the small stack in her other hand. She handed it over to Lori, sounding unsure as she said, "It has your name."

Lori took the envelope, looking it over. "It has your name, too."

Priya nodded. "Yeah, but I didn't order anything."

"I didn't either. Amazon doesn't even ship in white envelopes."

"Right..." Priya recalled, scratching the back of her head and thinking out loud, "Then maybe from a small business or something?"

Lori shook her head. "I don't think I bought anything though."

"Then maybe it's from our parents...?"

"Bro, my parents don't even how to spell your first name. The envelope has your full name on it."

"Bruh, my parents don't know your full name either!"

They both stared at the envelope in Lori's hand. True to their word, their full names were written in red ink—ominous and concerning.

The only people that knew their full names were their family and the government.

"Do you think it's a prank?" Priya asked.

"What prank would it be?" Lori responded.

They stared at each other, contemplating their next actions. Worry itched its way into their faces.

After a few moments of silence, Lori held the envelope towards Priya.

"Open it," she instructed.

Priya sputtered, backing away with her hands up. "What?! No!"

"You found it!"

"You're holding it!"

"But you saw it first!"

Priya backed away further, arguing, "But you're closer to it!"

"It's just an envelope!"

"If it's just an envelope, then why don't you open it?!"

"Fine," Lori defended herself, "I'll open it!"

"Good!"

Lori hesitated before steeling a glare at the offending envelope. It shouldn't have freaked her out as much as it did, but fear was still a very prevalent thing.

"It's a common occurrence for survivors of your situation to feel paranoia," Lori's therapist had explained a few months ago. "The most important thing is to establish a connection between what's causing your paranoia and overcoming those barriers."

A strange envelope with her full name—a name that her family knew, and probably even Priya and Nishi (and the government)—was quite concerning. The media wasn't aware of it back then, having used either an alias (at the start) before using her first and last name (when she was found). The fact that her name was spelled out by hand instead of typed sparked an even greater sense of paranoia.

She shakily tore at the opening, peering inside before growing even more confused than before. Priya took it as a sign to come closer, sidestepping towards her friend.

"What is it?" Priya asked.

"...A hard-drive," Lori responded, reaching into the envelope.

She handed Priya the envelope, who proceeded to look inside it as well. Lori examined the sleek hard-drive in her hand, wondering why it came in the mail.

Meanwhile, Priya dug through the envelope, having found a small slip inside. It was barely the size of her pinkie when she took it out—folded in half and tucked into the edge of the envelope. She unraveled it, reading the five words written in its dead-center.

Lock the window behind you.

"What the fuck?" Priya muttered, looking behind her.

The kitchen window was wide open; the screen for bugs had broke a few days ago. They meant to get it fixed, but with work and therapy (and college), they just never got around to it.

Priya slowly walked to the window, reluctantly closing and locking it. She stood by it, peering out and examining the surroundings. All that stood ahead was a view of their backyard.

She turned around and walked back to her friend, crumbling the slip in her hands. She barely passed the counter when she saw Lori look up and scream in horror.

Priya watched Lori stumble back, frantically reaching for the closest kitchen knife. She quickly turned back around, staring at the window she just locked. Priya dropped the slip and envelope in shock, finding her voice gone as her blood ran cold.

There was a man dressed in all black, staring right at them. In his hand was a gun, being cocked and then pointed in their direction. Priya barely felt herself move, finding her body being pulled to the ground.

When she came to her senses, she didn't have enough time to process that Lori pulled her behind the counter—out of sight of the window and the gun. The only thing that pulled her back to reality was the sound of a bang.

No window shattered.

"Call the police," Lori yelled, her voice wavering. "I-I don't have my phone—"

Priya quickly dug into her pocket, shakily entering her password manually and going to her keypad. Times like this made her wish she set up a face ID scan instead of a manual six-digit passcode, but now wasn't the time to contemplate.

She punched in the numbers 9-1-1 and pressed the call button, putting the phone up to her ear.

"You have reached 9-1-1 emergency services. If this is a non-emergency, please hang up and dial the extension—"

Priya cursed internally, willing herself to sit still instead of scream when she heard another gunshot. She waited for the automated system to spew its necessary nonsense before an operator came on the line.

Priya nearly sobbed in relief when she heard the words: "9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

A third gunshot rang in the background.

No window shattered at all.