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1st Chapter, Villa Vance.
I hear footsteps coming down the hallway, probably Julia, my brother’s girlfriend. The three of us just started living in this apartment about a month ago. I still haven’t unpacked all my things and boxes crowd my room. I’m happy that Terrence isn’t selfish and that Julia can stand me. If not for those two I don’t know where I’d be. It’s been rough for me since graduation; my degree seems not to have made finding a job easy at all, and I’d settle for fast-food or retail, but I hate dealing with people. It’s awkward and sometimes embarrassing for me. In a perfect world, I’d have a desk at a prominent magazine or newspaper company. Alas, The freelance gigs I’ve been so loyal to are paying less & less now. Money is tight. Her footsteps get louder; she pauses briefly before turning the doorknob, without a knock. She walks in; her face is flushed. I can tell she’s upset about something, or someone. “My God Vill, do you ever plan on cleaning up around here? I mean seriously, it’s like you haven’t unpacked a single thing. Are you living out of a box? She asks. “And another thing, when are you going to start working? Me and Terrence can’t pay for this place alone you know!” “Well, I’m trying my best & that’s all I can tell you. I know money is tight, I know I’m not working. I’m sure I’ll find a job soon, I’ve been applying to a lot of publications. Don’t let my junky room distract you; I’m getting everything straightened out, believe it.” I say that I’ve been trying, but the truth is, I haven’t applied myself at all. I haven’t filled any applications out. This white lie is all I need to buy some time until I can find something I can bear. To me, it seems selfish to be so choosy when I know Terrence and Julia are handling most of the bills. I’m optimistic that I’ll come across something soon and if not… there can’t be an “if not.” I’d never let them know the truth; they couldn’t understand. I just need a little while longer. “I’ve got an interview with Express tomorrow morning.” I lie. “Well, that’s a start I guess.” Her tone softens, and she becomes a concerned mother, worried that her scolding has hurt her child’s feelings. “You know I don’t mean to get so worked up, but Me and Terrence can’t afford to keep splitting these bills alone. We have other places we need to spend our money Vill, and we’re counting on you for relief.” “I know Julia, I know. I’m trying my hardest to pull it together.” “Okay.” She walks out, closing the door behind her. I’m relieved she didn’t ask what Express was, I wouldn’t have had an answer. It’s just some company I saw in a magazine before. Julia’s concern is a sign that I need to make a move soon. I figure that as long as Express is a part of my lie, I may as well look into it. I pull the magazine out from one of the boxes I rummaged through last night and flip to the last page. It reads “Express — Highway to life, now hiring. Call 1 333 999 9966.” I grab the house phone, but before I can lift a finger to dial, I hear a knock, an entrance more subtle than the last. “Come in,” I answer. No response. “Come in!” I shout. Still, no answer. I get up to check and see who’s knocking and why they didn’t they just walk in. I crack the door a little and peep through the opening; no one is there. Probably Terrence is playing a joke on me, though it isn't very funny. I shrug it off and get ready to redial the number. Then, another knock on the door. “Terrence I’m in the middle of something, stop kidding around!” I shout. He didn’t respond. I quickly get up to answer the door once again, this time more furious and agitated. I fling the door open and out pops Terrence from behind a corner. He’s wearing a Ghostface mask. “Am I supposed to be scared?” “Haha, you fell for it last time.” “Which is why it didn’t work this time. I was right in the middle of an important call, so I’m not going for any of your shenanigans. Julia just got on my case about not having a job, so this is serious. I think she’ll be less flustered once I land something; I'll pull my weight around here too.” “Well, guess what Villy. You don’t have to worry anymore! You can keep all your money buddy. I’ve got everything covered. I thought my shenanigans might brighten your day since you’re always moping around here looking depressed and shit.” “What are you talking about? How can you have everything covered? Do you know what you're saying? The rent here is way too much for one person to handle, and I know that call center isn’t paying that much.” He begins to explain his luck at being offered a position with a new organization called Express. The same company I was about to call and apply. He's ecstatic to tell me the salary and how much fun the job is. Oddly, he never sheds light on what the job entails. When I ask, he changes the subject, over and over, every time I ask. There’s nothing I want to know more than the type of work involved. Every ad I saw was bereft of anything more than a cheesy slogan. I had heard enough of Terrence's stories. It’s good that he found a high paying job but if he covers everything I’ll feel like a freeloader. I hurried to end the conversation. When he finished talking, I praised him and continued my phone call with Express. "Hello—Express Career Services, my name is Jenny. How may I help you?" "Yes, Ms. Jenny, I'd like information about any job openings you have." "Okay sir, may I please have your name and SSN?" Social security? That’s peculiar. I’m not inclined to divulge the information, but since Terrence got the job, he must have gone through the same process. "Oh… yes ma'am, of course. My name is Villa Vance and my So—" “Villa Vance!” She exclaims. Sir, please meet me at my office, tomorrow at 5:00 p.m. sharp. Thank you. Click! "But where is your office? Where do I need to go?" I was talking to myself; she had already hung up the phone. It seemed promising, in fact, I almost had a little hope that things would turn around. Now, I'm back at square one. Why couldn't the lady just tell me where her office was before she hung up. How could she expect me to know where to go or how to get there. The phone began to make a dial tone. I had forgotten to dismiss the call. I click end and flop onto my bed. The plan was to go to college, get a bachelor’s degree in English, then snag a job writing for a company or teaching. The plan failed. In reality, I’m sitting in a room full of boxes with no clue what to do next. In a moment, every depressive thought of my future begins to creep into my consciousness, so the walls close in and my brain feels too big for my head with every analysis fighting the other for a space to occupy. From college, life has never seemed this volatile. I’m used to a set routine with predictable outcomes. Now, I truly don’t know what’s to come next or how well I can handle it. I’m already unstable. Tonight will be cold I know. I should get to bed. Writing is the only thing that ever helped me relieve stress. Before I go to sleep, I have to write in my journal. It’s something I’ve done since I was a little boy. By documenting what happens in the past, I can remember it easier than a mere memory. My memory is frail. I write in detail, lest I forget a single instance. I grab my notebook and a pen to jot down everything that took place today. When I woke up this morning, I found that my cell phone had stopped working. For some reason, it wouldn’t cut on. Next, I couldn’t find the remote to the TV, even though I distinctly remember putting it on my nightstand before going to bed last night. Which was right after I looked through a box of magazines, where I found the Express ad. I continue to write about my day until the ink in my pen runs out. Of course, the ink would run out. With everything going wrong, why would anything decide to go in the right direction? I don’t remember having another pen in my drawer, but I check anyway. I open it up to behold a bright red pen I never knew existed, Express is printed in small white words on the side. Before I reach to pick the pen up, I hear a voice. It shouts in my ear, “Express!.” I jolt back and quickly check my surroundings. Maybe I had been awake too long. My clock says 1 a.m. as if I’d been writing that long. At any rate, How did this pen get in the drawer? “Walk toward the window.” The voice calls. And like a fool I follow. I walk to my window and peek through the blinds to see no one. This better not be another one of Terrence’s tricks. No, it couldn’t be. “Open it!” The voice shouts. But I won’t move, I’m not willing to open a window for a voice alone. I don’t know who or where the speaker is. I’m reviewing every concept of reality introduced to me, trying to disprove them all to explain how and why this is happening. “This is for your own good.” It whispers. Suddenly, My hand moves to the window without my permission. I slide the lock to the left and slowly raise the glass. My body is no longer under my control. It has a will of its own. Terror and confusion have replaced any sense of security and common sense I had. The chilling wind from the draft of the open window bites my lip with a gust that is much more bitter than it should be. The calling voice spirals from a whisper to a mumble. Finally, an obnoxious shout breaks my thought. “You are no longer a part of this world. Listen to my voice to uncover great wisdom. You must understand before you walk blindly. I am here to lead you, accept my presence and follow my will. Let your body do the work. Put your mind to rest.” It claims. Before I knew it, I climbed out of the window. The wind whipped so rapidly that it hurt to hold my eyes open, so I kept them closed. I'm now dangling from the third floor of an apartment building without a hint as to what will happen next. My body is frozen, I can't see, and a seemingly benevolent, but eerie voice is dictating my actions. It told me to let my mind rest. It feels like this voice knows me. Does this entity have control of my body? Something I thought was a joke at first has changed into a phenomenon I can’t fathom, let alone explain. If I am no longer a part of this world, then what world have I entered? I've been dangling for at least ten minutes now, and the voice hasn’t yielded another command since. My arms have yet to tire out, and despite a severe, arctic wind, I’ve resisted hypothermic shock. Then, all motion of the wind stopped, and something began to counteract the bitter cold. It was dark outside, but now I feel rays of light surround me. My eyes remain closed; I begin to imagine the environment around me. It feels like I’ve arrived in a place where sunshine and light are persistent and dazzling. What is this world? I'm no longer dangling from the window of an apartment building, but now standing straight up with little space between my feet. My back is erect, and my head is tilted slightly up. My eyes are still closed, but this is by choice. I'm not ready to see. The voice calls me by my first name. I'm not willing to answer this soon. I don't feel like I should have to speak, I’m the one expecting answers. After a long pause, the voice seems to fade away, while murmuring what sounded like a rant. I stand here, quietly and patiently, as my life whirls around in my noggin. I think about Terrence and Julia; the debt and trouble I'm in. I question the possibility of all this being a dream. I convince myself that it is indeed an odd dream, which gives a good reason as to why I have not yet opened my eyes. Perhaps, once I open them, I'll be in my room lying on the bed. That's it; it's time to stop this dream. I'll count to three and open my eyes. One... Two... Th— “Are you ready Villa?” The voice interrupts.
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