Lianna

I don't know what woke me up that night, but it definitely wasn't human.

The night had already gotten off to a bad start. My plan was to binge-watch season 2 of Stranger Things with a huge bag of potato chips and then to finish reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, but that didn't go so well.

I have a habit of overreacting so when I finished Stranger Things, I started crying because it was over and I read Harry Potter to distract myself but the ending only made me cry even more.

I climbed into bed that night only to be woken by a scratching noise coming from my kitchen. And since I have a weird phobia of scratchy sounds, I fell out of bed in my confusion and hit my head on my nightstand.

Bob, my amulet, clattered to the floor as I landed on it, making me wince. It felt like stepping on a lego, I thought while scowling. I shoved it in my bra.

The scratching sounds got louder as they got closer. I scrambled blindly on the floor to find something to wear, as I certainly didn't want to be in my underwear if whatever it was in.

But it never did.

I stay holed up under my comforter for at least an hour as the sounds slowly receded.

I should have called the police, but I'm kind of used to this happening every few months. I'm woken up by weird noises in the middle of the night. I usually always fall and hit my head. And the sound always goes away after a while, whatever it was leaving my living room and kitchen a mess.

I live in one of the middle floors of this cheap but clean apartment. It's not like I care where I live, as long as I have my essentials with me: my books, Netflix, and a view of the city.

I hate this apartment.

It would have been a perfect view if not for this big grey building that's so ugly that it makes Shrek look like 

I can hear the boisterous sound of people as they party in the apartment next to me. For a second, I think about going next door and asking for some booze but the thought immediately dispels from my mind. I'm not about to start drinking again.

I go into my kitchen to survey the damage. I think they got me the worst this time because my paintings are ripped open, the shaggy carpet has burn marks on it, and my pots and pans lay in scraps on the floor.

I groan. I swear I've never exercised more than thirty minutes a day so just thinking about cleaning up this mess makes my head hurt.

My phone pings and I rummage through the rubble until I find it. My eyes can make out the caller ID (my boss, Leda) through the white spots starting to form in my vision.

You're fired.

I blink a few times.

What the fuck?

I knew I was a bad bartender, but not worse than my coworkers.

What do you mean? I reply.

You know what I mean.

You mean to tell me that you actually took the effort into texting me at 3 fucking AM to fire me? Through text? I write back.

Don't come back tomorrow.

I stare at the small screen incredulously as the words sink in. This couldn't be real, I think. But the text I get next changes everything.

You weren't a bad employee Solarus. We're sorry to let you go but about an hour ago we were told to clear out the building because of some project this new company was working on.

What company? I ask.

I don't know I wasn't given much information. Leda texts me.

Okay, I'm sorry that happened. It was nice working for you. I write back and turn off my phone, letting it fall to the ground.

I have nothing. Or I'm going to have nothing, I realized. Since I didn't have a job anymore, I couldn't afford to stay in this apartment. I shudder at the thought of the slums. I'm never going back there again, I decide. 

My thoughts trail to the amulet in my bra. I take it out and turn in a few times in my hand. The diamond-shaped pendant is dark onyx with silver vines growing up the sides. I stare at it for a few moments, admiring the authenticity and craftsmanship before slipping it over my neck. The gold chain suddenly feels tight around my throat and I'm tempted to rip it off but I keep it there.

It could fetch a fair price.

I shouldn't, I think to myself. What would mom and dad say? 

I vividly remembered the day she had come home from school when she was eleven. The air smelled like fresh rain, even though it hadn't rained for weeks. 

That should have been the first sign.

I was wearing a green dress that my mom had forced me into because it was picture day at school. My lanky feet ran up the steps to her front porch so I could play Call Of Duty. My hands traced the railing as I did so because I was always afraid I would trip on the third step that had a loose plank. I reached the top.

And my heart plummeted. I remember that I thought I was dreaming. Yes, I assured myself. This was all a big nightmare and soon I'd wake up and it'd be Saturday.

I was wrong. 

The lights had been shattered, glass pieces scattering the wooden floor.

"Mom?" I called. 

Dad was at work right now. "Mom?" I called even louder. I went in closer, using the light of my flip phone to guide me. And then I saw the wall. In black blood were the words: TRUST THE DRAGON. The light of my phone flickered. Stupid flip phone, I muttered. Then, I saw something shiny beneath the words and I reached down and picked it up. It was the amulet. I ran my fingers over it the same way I did a few minutes ago.

I think I was screaming.

The police were there in ten minutes, but they found nothing. No trace of human blood or anything. The amulet was still tucked safely in my pocket.

Long story short, I ended up getting switched around multiple foster homes who only wanted me for the money that they got from the government. Eventually, I escaped and ended up cold and hungry near the slums. I remember thinking about the scary men that leered at me as I trudged through the streets.

I shudder and wipe the memory away.

I know what I have to do. If I sell this amulet, I could get enough to buy myself a cheap home in the outskirts of the city. It wouldn't be much, but at least I wouldn't have to depend on someone to loan me money every money to pay rent.

I'm sorry mom and dad, I think as I clutch the amulet tightly in my hands, but this for the best.

When I walked out, the door slammed loudly and the flimsy chain lock rattled. I knew where I had to go.

I was heading to the Underground.