Cynni, the storyteller…

Every once in a while, I get the urge to just sit down and type. To write a story or poem. Or to get rid of some strange thoughts that just don’t seem willingly to leave my mind anything else but preoccupied. To write out some thoughts, feelings, things that bug or annoy me, things that I can’t seem to comprehend without writing them down. And well, at times I tend to write a story that also combines some thoughts or just what comes up in that silly head of mine. Why I am telling you this all? Because I just feel like writing something, it is my blog of course… But this is something that I normally don’t blog about. Normally I write more about how my day was, what I did and am planning to do. That kind of stuff. Not the stuff you may be reading, if you read on, in a few minutes. The thing is that I really do not know what I will be able to publish in the end. I just well, go with the flow as some would call it. So grab a cup of tea, coffee or anything else you prefer, sit back and read on. If you’re still interested. Or maybe I should write: read on, if you dare :)

To think that you think that...

ONE

It was a cold summer night. The air was so chilly, one would think it was half past autumn. She was walking so fast that it felt like the cold wind was making cuts across her cheeks. Maybe it was only the cold, maybe it got worse due to the tears running down from her eyes. She couldn’t really care, all she wanted to do was get home. Get away from what she saw, or what she thought she saw, what she believed she saw or maybe what she wanted to see. Wanted might have been the wrong word to use, but her mind was running almost faster than her legs and it all was very unreal. How could it be real? How could it be?
She almost was home when she heard footsteps behind her. Was someone following her? No it couldn’t be. She would have heard those footsteps earlier. Was it just a coincidence? After tonight, she would probably never believe in anything being a coincidence ever again. So that would have to be a second “No” to her own questions. But there were so many questions that were in search for answers. Though she wasn’t sure she’d be able to answer all those questions herself. While thinking of someone who’d be able to help her, she almost forgot those footsteps that she heard just before. When she got her focus back on it, the sound was gone. So maybe it was a coincidence after all. Maybe she was imagining stuff now. Though seeing what she saw this evening, even if she just thought seeing it, could and would drive anyone crazy. Or so she thought while finally reaching her flat building. She looked around her shoulders just one more time, to be absolutely sure that no one was following her, and she quickly unlocked the main front door. She made sure the door was locked again before she followed the stairs to her floor.
There were four floors in her building, she was on the top one. She believed it would be safer. Why, she never really was sure about that. She thought it would make burglars think twice before trying to empty her apartment. But at other times, when she was reading some news bulletin on a website about people getting killed in their own homes during fires, she wondered what she was more afraid of. Burning to death or being robbed. She’d like to think a lot. Think things over and over until she was satisfied. Or till she thought she was satisfied. She could be very sure about herself and convince just about anyone that she was in fact sure, but still be extremely in doubts in her mind.

But when she finally reached her flat, she saw the door was ajar. She had 3 locks on it, so someone really had done a swell job cracking all of those. But shouldn’t her neighbors have heard anything while that person, or maybe persons, was working that hard on opening her door? They were complaining often enough when she was listening to her music or watching a movie with the surround system on. So how could anyone miss the noise this must have made? Should she call the police or just move slowly towards her door and see what was going on? Thoughts were still racing through her mind of what had happened what seemed like a nano second ago. And now she had to work this out as well. Her mind was making over hours this way and she could not bill them to anyone but herself.
She decided to slowly move towards the entrance. She examined the locks to finally notice that they didn’t have a scratch on them. They were all open without her being able to find any marks on them. No sign of forced entry as they would call it in any cop show you’d see on TV. She stayed in the doorway while she called out. Once, twice, three times in total. If someone was inside, he or she was extremely good at keeping still.
Then she finally decided that she did not forget to lock the door, let along to forget all three of the locks, so she flipped out her cell phone from her pocket and started typing in the central alarm number. She told the operator what her situation was and they’d dispatched one patrol unit to come and check it out. She was told to stay where she was until the policemen were at the scene. While she waited, she felt like she was really going crazy. Those thoughts, all those ideas that kept screaming for any attention, all those questions that wanted to be answered asap.
Since she still had her phone in her hand, she decided to use it wisely once more. She opened up the QWERTY keypad and initiated the Word Mobile® software. She typed slowly, trying to give all her thoughts the best description so she’d be able to sort them out at a later time. And even though she rethought about each and every letter she typed, deep within her she wanted to race her fingers over that damn keyboard. Even if it helped just a little bit to comprehend it all, or just a teeny weenie winey bit, she’d be eternally grateful. Because there was just so much that she could take in one night. And that much was already achieved on the way home. This was getting too much, even for her, to handle within a few hours. It would be too much for anyone, she thought, though this was not one of the thoughts she noted down on her phone.

She was so busy arranging her thoughts that she did not even hear the cops climbing up the stairs towards her apartment. There were two of them and they gave her quite a startle. Not because the looked freaky or anything but more because of her preoccupation with her thoughts and cell phone.
“Excuse me, miss. We got a call that your apartment was burglarized.” She quickly saved the document before putting away her phone. Then she looked at the two cops, a male and female one, before answering them. “Good evening. Could you please show me some ID’s first before we proceed?”
The cops grabbed their wallets and flashed out their Metro Police identifications and nodded politely while doing so. After she had checked them, she knew that the female was called Janie Peterson and the male Jack Jones. For some reason she thought it important to remember their names. While she was mentally making a note of those names, making sure she’d remember them when they left so she could write them down, the male cop was talking to her.
”Miss? Could you please answer our previous question now? You reported a burglary?” She shook her head, also to clear some her thoughts, and then slowly answered the question. “No I only called because I have three locks on my door, which I am sure I locked before leaving. When I came home, the door was ajar without any scratch on the locks or doorframe. So I called it in before proceeding. I did not want to disturb anyone or maybe destroy any evidence if there is any inside of the house.” “Why would you think there’s any evidence, miss?” “Well, if someone went through all the trouble of opening three locks as quiet and clean as possible, I would not think it was just for the fun of it. Why go to the trouble if you don’t want to get inside?” The cops made some notes and exchanged some looks before putting on some gloves.
”Ha!”, she thought. If the cops were using gloves, they too think something could be wrong.Why else go to the trouble of putting on those latex gloves if you think nothing’s wrong? All the thoughts she just got rid of by writing them down were made complete again with all the new thoughts that came running into her mind while she was talking with those two cops. And in between it all, she kept repeating: Jack Jones and Janie Peterson, Jack Jones and Janie Peterson…

Mister Jones grabbed out his flashlight and Miss Peterson followed her partners lead. He slowly pushed the door open, while announcing himself to anyone that might be inside. With his flashlight he scanned the room. When he thought it was safe, he searched for the light switch which was near the entrance. The cops were still outside, scanning the room again now the lights were on. Jones took a small step inside while Peterson started to screen the locks and doorframe. Jones and Peterson made some notes without saying anything. This was quite confusing seeing she was wondering so much what was really going on. Was she allowed to follow inside or should she remain in the doorway?
At that moment, Jones turned around and came back to her. “If you could please follow me, miss. To see is anything is missing or put back in a wrong way.” Peterson signed for her partner to come closer to the locks. “Miss, are you sure that you locked the door?” “I just told you that I an very sure that I did indeed lock it, all three of them.” What was wrong with these people? Had they not been listening to her the first time?
“Sorry to ask you again miss, but it seems that these locks were unlocked when the door was opened. There is really no sign of forced entree, one way or another.” She started to get quite annoyed, because the way that Peterson told her this, the tone almost suggested she was talking to a freaking 4-year old. Not to an adult who certainly and surely knows how to lock a door. “Miss Peterson, I am absolutely sure that I did lock all three of the locks before leaving. I always check and double check, because I am far too attached to my possessions to leave them behind an unlocked door. Not because they are extremely valuable money’s worth, but they are valuable to me personally.”
“First of all, it’s Mrs. Peterson to be exactly.” The way she had said that, there had to be a second of all. Peterson exchanged a concerned look with her partner before proceeding. But instead of Peterson continuing it, it was Jones who came up with the second of all.
”Second of all, there seems to be nothing wrong with your apartment. Besides from being it one of the neatest crime scenes I’ve ever seen. That is, if it would be a crime scene. I am sorry to say miss, but it seems there is nothing wrong here. We will make a note of it all, but there is nothing more we can do here.”
She looked at the cops, thinking a whole lot of things, some not too nice, and then nodded in agreement. She did not agree though, but she just felt there was no way to make anything work between her and the two of them. So she thanked them, even though they did not really do anything to help, it did seem the polite thing to do. They nodded and wished her a pleasant night and went off.

She went inside and bolted the door from there. There were many more thoughts that needed to be sorted out. And quickly before her head would explode. It felt like it was all filled up with C4 explosives, ready to press the button that would make it go “KABOOM!”.
She turned on her laptop and transferred her Word document from her cell phone to the laptop using a Bluetooth connection. She had connected them using a secure code, so no one would be able to hack into it. She always had been cautious about many things. That’s how she was sure that she did not forget to lock the door.

She had many quirky habits that some would even describe as neurotic. As a kid, she felt so insecure about herself. She was always the laugh of the class, the joke of the day and the one who was being singled out. All those things made her so insecure about everything about her that she got some habits she could feel secure about. But there was always the nagging in the back of her head: her consciousness telling her to be careful. Be careful or someone might get to you. Might be able to touch you in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable. Maybe even hurt you. So always be cautious about many things, almost everything, if possible.
It was also the reason why she did not have many friends. She felt like she wasn’t made out of the right material to be able to form a equivalent friendship. And it was very hard for her to be able to trust someone, anyone. She had been pestered all her childhood life and that surely had left it’s marks and scars.

When she transferred the file, she opened it on her laptop. But she still did not feel safe within her own place. That cop Jones only looked around the living room. Which seemed strange, because in all the police shows she’d been watching on TV, they always check the entire apartment. Not a glance around the living room. But also a look inside the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen and all other rooms that a house might have. It felt unnatural for a cop to leave a scene so quickly, for nor being thoroughly in their research. It also felt like they did not want to be there, like they felt awkward for even having to set foot in her place.
Before she felt secure enough to continue on her “thoughts file”, she wanted to check our her place by herself first. She grabbed a baseball bat. She had bought it because living alone for a woman in a big city can feel threatening at times. Especially when you are insecure about yourself to begin with. She kicked off her shoes under her laptop table before continuing her research. This way she could walk almost soundless around her apartment. She had it all carpeted so she just thought it best to continue bare footed.
She slowly walked towards her bedroom. She felt cold air when she slowly opened the door. Since she always locked the windows before leaving the house, it was strange to feel cold are rushing towards her. Her heart skipped a beat and the adrenaline rushed like a madman through her body. She quickly used the light switch and saw that the window was, like her front door, left ajar. So someone must have been in there and left through her bedroom window! Or someone wanted her to think that.
She felt like she should call the police again, but she also felt like it would be of no use, no use at all. They did not take her seriously the first time, so why should they if she called them in again? No, she had to figure this out by herself. She went inside the room, only to see that nothing was missing, misplaced or anything at all. It all was there just as she left it, besides from the window. She thought of fingerprints and how she would be able to check them. But what good would it do? The person, or maybe persons, did such a good job on opening three locks without any scratches. They would not be stupid enough to leave any prints. So she went to the window, closed it and bolted it, just to be sure, again.

After the check on her bedroom, she found all other rooms to be left just as she had earlier that day. So feeling a bit more secure than before, she went back to her laptop. It was already showing a nice screensaver with some lovely holiday pictures she had made. She kept the bat close to her as she sat down and started typing once again. She raced over those keys and the document grew rapidly. She never knew she could contain so many different thoughts inside of her head.
Before she knew it, it was almost 3 am. She did not feel tired, not at all. The adrenaline inside of her kept her going like a steam engine on fire and besides, she was too scared to go into her bedroom and close her eyes.
She slowly checked the list of thoughts, rearranging them into smaller lists. The important thoughts that needed to be answered asap and the less important ones. The thoughts that had anything to do with the break in and also with what she’d seen earlier that night. How could she ever describe what she had seen? Was there a way to put it to words? But how could she put something to words if she wasn’t even sure if it really happened. If she saw something real or if her imagination was playing games with her from the start. But even if she could put it to words, who would want to read or hear them? And if she could find someone willing to listen or read, what would that person do after it’s all been read or told? She already saw herself being shoved into a white straight jacket and shipped off, straight to the nearest mental hospital.
But maybe she would try to put it to words, just for herself. So she could read and reread what had happened. Or at least she thought what happened. How could you ever believe something that looked like magic when you don’t really believe in it? Magic hocus pocus always was like a myth to her, one she didn’t ever think possible. She had watched a lot of episodes at the Discovery Channel “Mythbusters” series on TV. She had seen many myths gone busted, so why not bust the myth of magic herself? She did not need Jamie and Adam with their myth busting team to convince her about this all.

Magic? Magic!?

Was there really such a thing? She thought it might be better to sleep for a while. On the couch though, with her bat ready when needed. After encrypting her word documents and shutting down the laptop and cell phone, she checked, double checked and again rechecked all the locks of the doors and windows. When she was absolutely sure that there was nothing unlocked, she got a small blanket and a pillow and lay herself down on the couch. Sleep caught her almost immediately. But instead of getting some well deserved rest she got some very weird dreams. Some would call it nightmares, but not her. She did not believe in nightmares. To her, everything that she dreamt about had a deeper meaning. And the more important it was, the better she would remember it when she woke up.

TO BE CONTINUED…

If you liked it, please let me know and write a comment! I am looking forward to your suggestions and ideas and also, of course, to your honest opinions! I am just going with the flow, writing this from scratch… But it will be continued, so keep checking my blog for any story updates!