Chapter Six

Endure

"I HAD A REALLY HARD TIME LOSING WEIGHT BEFORE, BUT EVER SINCE I TRIED THE NEW SUPER WEIGHT LOSS ADVANCE MACHINE 2000, I HAVE LOST HALF-"

She screamed and jumped in such a way, she almost fell off her bed. It took her a while to understand what was happening and where she was. When Petra finally realized she was in her new bedroom, in her new house and that it was three in the morning, unfortunately, she actually didn't feel any better.

Groggily, and mumbling against the entire world, she shot a hateful stare at the broken TV. For some reason, it had turned itself on and it was screaming at the silent house. It had scared the hell out of her and brutally ripped her out of her slumber, like a drill sergeant abruptly kicking you out of bed.

Her hand lazily stumbled through the scattered objects in her nightstand, until it finally found the remote. Petra pressed the buttons, but it wouldn't work. She sighed in frustration. Getting up quickly, afraid that the screwed up TV would eventually wake Natasha, she went to it and pressed the button to turn it off.

It didn't.

Instead, it changed the channel.

Cursing, Petra pressed the same button again.

In response, the volume raised even louder, as if the object was mocking her.

With her heart beating like crazy, she continued to press the button frantically, finding that the channels would just keep changing just as madly and wildly. Panic, anger and frustration kept growing, just as the volume kept rising and the channels kept changing. Finally, Petra reached behind the TV and unplugged it.

She breathed in relief as silence and darkness finally met her.

"What an old piece of crap," she whispered to herself.

She returned to her bed, wondering how the device had turned itself on to begin with. For some unexplainable reason, she was actually terrified that it would turn itself on again. Without it being plugged on, she wouldn't have "old and broken device" explanation to give herself.

But that would be ludicrous. There was no way it could turn itself back on without being plugged to electricity. The explanation she gave herself was the only possible explanation. It was impossible for it to happen again.

She tossed and turned, finding it hard to sleep again. In her mind, she kept picturing the TV suddenly and inexplicably turning on again, louder than ever. Her heart was beating fast, her eyes deeply shut, as if she could avoid seeing the impossible happen.

She was freaking herself out.

Sighing in tired defeat, Petra decided there was no other way. She reached for the nightstand drawer, took a small bottle from the inside and, without thinking, swallowed one of her sleeping pills.

Finally, she would have a good, restful night. Even if it was an artificial one.

Even if she knew she would regret it in the morning.

***

Everything moved slower than normal that morning, including sound and taste and scent. Every movement seemed to take her extra effort to complete, every thought felt heavy.

Petra knew she was still under the pill's effect and she struggled to get out of its control, even if she knew only time could do it. She had slept profoundly and deeply, a long desired dreamless rest, but the price to pay was frustrating. She felt trapped in her own body, unable to get out of that robotic state.

It was amazing, she thought, how well rested she felt and still, how sleep deprived she looked. As she examined her reflection in the horrible elevator's mirror, she noticed the deep and ugly bags under her eyes and the perpetual expression of boredom the pills forced on her.

She turned, slowly, as she noticed someone else entering the same space. It was a man she had never seen before, one of her neighbors. He looked just as exhausted and sleep deprived as she did, his hair disheveled, his facial hair undone. Still, he dressed in an impeccable business suit and took the time to straighten his jacket and tie.

He never looked at her and she actually wondered if he had even seen her.

"Could you please try to make less noise from now on?" he suddenly asked, still without even sparing her his sight.

Petra took a few seconds to even comprehend he was talking to her.

"Oh, hmmm, sure. I'm sorry. My TV, it malfunctioned. It turned itself on and the volume-"

"Honestly, I don't know what you girls were doing in there, but next time, please take your neighbors into consideration."

"Sure. I am really sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"In fact, next time, I will call the police. Almost did so last night."

Petra was a little taken by his statement. A loud TV that, admittedly made some noise, but only for a few minutes, hardly seemed like enough reason to do something as drastic as calling the authorities.

"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again," she replied, vowing to herself that the TV would never be plugged again.

"Good," he answered, finally turning to face her. As he did so, Petra had to be grateful that she was still under the zombiefying effect of the pills, otherwise, she was sure she would've let out a shocked gasp.

The man had the most disfiguring scar she had ever seen on the left side of his face. It still looked recent and fresh, with a few droplets of dry blood still horribly decorating it. It hugged his face from his temple to his chin, almost getting right through his eye. It looked deep and painful and she could see bits of torn flesh through it.

He had to be in incredible pain! Why wasn't he running to the hospital?

If the disfigured neighbor noticed her shocked expression, he didn't react to it, as he continued his speech in the same calm and collected tone, eyeing her with a look of quiet disapproval, like a father reprehending a child.

"Good," he repeated, "it is quite difficult to sleep with all the yelling and screaming."

Petra didn't have time to answer, as the elevator doors finally opened and the man quickly walked outside. She took a few seconds to compose herself and walk outside as well, deciding it would be best to not even try to make sense of what she had just witnessed and heard.

She walked towards the exit, still feeling the numbing effects of her pill, but still embracing the fresh air, the sunlight and the business of the world outside. Through the corner of her eye, she could detect the presence of the old lady again, still standing in her usual spot at the building's entrance. Terrified by the thought of those haunting clear eyes studying her again, Petra turned on the spot and walked as far as she could, away from the weird lady and from the cursed building.

***

The night had been quiet and peaceful, as usual, at least on the outside of the building, when Petra finally allowed her body the rest it had been craving the whole day. Once the pill's effect had worn off, she felt the expected aftermath of withdrawal symptoms: she was dizzy, nauseous and every muscle ached and felt made out of rock, so she decided to end her torture by going to bed early, with no dinner.

It was deep into the night and it took her a while to understand exactly why she had woken up in such a violent, sudden way.

Screaming.

Someone, a woman, was screaming in the hallway, outside of her apartment. She was screaming at the top of her lungs and it was terrifying. It was the sort of piercing, horrified sound one could only produce when faced with danger, with the possibility of pain or death.

Petra's survival instincts told her to stay hidden in her bedroom and, for a few seconds, her body seemed perfectly content to obey. More in shock than anything else, she lied in her bed, incapable of movement, her eyes open wide, her heart beating faster than her blood could run.

Filled with adrenaline and fully aware of her humanity, Petra knew she couldn't just ignore the terror of the woman in danger. Like a moth to a deadly light, she quickly got out of bed and ran towards the door, aware that she was running towards the same peril the woman was facing but still determined to help. The screams were louder than ever and, with them, her sense of urgency also grew.

When she opened the door, she was facing nothing more than darkness and silence. The hallway was as close to dead as it could be.

She turned the light on, her arm shaking.

Emptiness. Nothing. No one. No screaming, no sound at all.

For a moment, a blessed second, she felt relief.

Then, a new kind of fear quickly took over her.

"Petra? What are you doing?"

She jumped at the sudden break in the consuming silence and turned around to find a confused looking Natasha. She was coming out of her bedroom and looked properly tired and sleepy, though Petra couldn't help but notice she was still wearing the same clothes she had been wearing during the day.

"Petra?" she called again, "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost." She smiled, like she had told a hilarious joke.

"The screams..." Petra mumbled, "didn't you hear them?"

"What?" Natasha's smile quickly faded and she walked closer, a look of concern in her soft features. "Screams?"

"Yes!" Petra replied, her voice rising. It was extremely important to her that Natasha confirmed what she had witnessed. At that moment, she needed that confirmation more than oxygen. "There was a woman screaming hysterically in the hallway!"

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know!"

"I didn't hear anything."

Petra could almost feel her heart dropping to the ground. And she could almost feel that same ground crumbling beneath her feet.

"How could you not hear it?" she insisted, close to desperate. "She was so loud, I'm surprised she didn't wake the whole building."

"Exactly," was Natasha's short and calm reply, which hit Petra like a punch to the stomach.

Natasha slowly walked past her and sneaked her head out of their door, carefully searching up and down the corridor.

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"The screaming lady."

"I don't know! She vanished as soon as I reached the door. I don't understand!" Petra raised her hands to her head which was suddenly aching.

Natasha sighed and looked at her with the sort of condescending and forgiving smile her mother always gave her.

"Look, Petra-"

"There was someone out there!" she yelled, not really knowing who she was trying to convince. "Someone was screaming! I heard it! I'm not crazy!"

"Of course not," Natasha agreed, her eyes wide, like she was a little scared. Petra couldn't really blame her for that. She closed the door and gently placed her hands on Petra's shoulders. Her cold yet soft grip was soothing, but Petra couldn't stop trembling.

"Let's just look at this logically, ok?" she whispered. "If there was, in fact, someone out there screaming, surely someone else would've heard it, right? Me or one of the neighbors... Don't you think?"

Petra nodded. It made perfect sense which, in itself, was terrifying.

"Besides, why would someone be screaming like that in the hallway to begin with?"

Petra had no answer. She just shrugged.

"You probably just had a really vivid nightmare and woke up confused."

She nodded again. It wouldn't be the first time, truth be told.

"But... but I was awake and I kept hearing it. I can't explain it, it felt so real."

"Well, that's vivid for you," Natasha replied, sounding relieved now that Petra seemed calmer. She wasn't though, she was just exhausted and defeated.

"You look tired, you should go back to bed," Natasha said, releasing her from her grip. "Do you want some tea? I could make you some really quick, it will help. We could talk for a few minutes in the balcony again, until you feel relaxed."

"No, no thanks," Petra declined, feeling completely worn out after the sudden adrenaline discharge. She faked a smile. "You're right, I should just go back to bed. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"No problem, roomie." Natasha smiled, looking happy and relieved. She winked and walked back to her room. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." She waved before closing the door.

"Sure..." Petra faintly replied. She slowly walked to her room and climbed into her bed, sitting with her knees close to her chest. Her mind was racing and she was trying, with all her might, not to succumb to the fears and paranoia that were taking hold of her. She grabbed her head and tried to forget she had a cure for this.

Frantically, she grabbed her cellphone and prayed that it would work. A sleepy voice called her on the other side.

"Petra? This better be good, it's three in the morning. Is someone on fire?"

"Olivia, I need your help," she begged, close to tears, her voice cracking.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"No, I'm really not. I think it's happening."

"What? What's happening?"

"I think I'm going crazy," she whispered, the weight of that word finally hitting her with all its real power.

"Petra, you're not crazy, stop that-"

"I'm serious, Liv. I really am."

Olivia didn't reply for a few heavy seconds. "Tell me what happened."

"First, I need you to remind me exactly why I shouldn't take the pills. Please."