SEPTEMBER_UNIKUM_WEB (1)
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and discreetly paused his music mid-chorus.<br />
He felt his heart rate accelerate. They were almost all alone in the<br />
bus, why would he choose to sit directly behind him?<br />
Only three more stops, he reminded himself, and you know better<br />
than to let it win. What were five things he could see? Or was it five<br />
things he could feel?<br />
His knee bounced as he fiddled with his phone case, and when he<br />
turned his head to the window, he saw cars fly by in a dizzying<br />
speed. Or perhaps it was a normal speed, and he was just dizzy.<br />
He was watching a motorcycle zoom past the window when he felt<br />
the belt against his throat. Or he assumed it was a belt. Perhaps<br />
it was his arm. He wasn’t really thinking much, just feeling. The<br />
leather, or skin, was tight and brutal as it obstructed his air flow.<br />
He tried to make eye contact with the bus driver to no avail.<br />
Marcus was going to die.<br />
But he wasn’t, was he?<br />
He leaned forward, sputtering, head between his knees, gasping<br />
for air.<br />
“Hey, man. You okay?” the guy behind him asked.<br />
Marcus gulped down air. Yes, he was definitely dizzy. He nodded,<br />
not daring to turn towards the man behind him; way too frightened<br />
of his own mind and what it might conjure up.<br />
He pressed the red stop button and got up from his seat, dragging<br />
his new book along with him. He nearly lost what remnants of<br />
balance he had left when the bus came to a stop. His stop, finally.<br />
Finally, alone. But then of course, he was alone.<br />
He saw someone in the shadows beneath the trees, but was it one<br />
person or two? He diverted his eyes, and with his head downturned<br />
he started his trek home.<br />
descended and his heart clenched. He worked out, avoided caffein<br />
and alcohol, took his d-vitamins and fish oils and had even started<br />
journaling. All to no avail. It was insane. He was insane.<br />
He couldn’t even focus on the beauty of the falling leaves, not when<br />
his brain played these tricks on him. Because it wasn’t autumn that<br />
he hated, and he knew as much. It was the symptoms that followed<br />
autumn around like a bloodhound that made him want to hunt<br />
down a fuzzy bear and slumber by its side for a few months.<br />
Every autumn and winter was the same, but new hope came<br />
with every spring and summer, so he knew it would get better,<br />
eventually. And he was patient, although he had developed a love/<br />
hate relationship with the word throughout the years.<br />
Cold air stroked his cheek, but he deigned to open his eyes. He was<br />
almost there. He saw the smoke coming up from the chimney and<br />
knew his favorite roommate was home, and that she was sat in<br />
front of the fireplace knitting, a smile loose on her lips and warmth<br />
blooming in her cheeks.<br />
He shivered and picked up the pace, ignoring the sound of leaves<br />
crunching and ragged breathing coming from behind him.<br />
He ran the last steps to the front door and slammed it shut behind<br />
him, ignoring the creature waiting for him on the inside, bloody<br />
gums and hollowed out eyes glaring at him from the shadows.<br />
Marcus made for the living room, where she was waiting, knitting<br />
peacefully just as he had anticipated. But when she looked up,<br />
there was no loose smile on her lips.<br />
“Oh Marcus,” she said, dropping everything in her hands as she<br />
saw the look on his face and the shine in his eyes.<br />
“I hate fall,” Marcus said, lip trembling.<br />
She pulled him into an embrace.<br />
“Tell me about it.”<br />
He heard the steps behind him and pinched his eyes closed. He<br />
didn’t hate autumn without reason, he thought as the darkness<br />
<strong>SEPTEMBER</strong> 2023 <strong>UNIKUM</strong> NR 7 13