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