She curled her silky black hair around her finger; mindless of the fact her finger was turning white. Her grey eyes seemed to peer through the rain, unable to look anywhere but far away. She seemed like she was focused on something not yet able to be seen, like she was waiting for someone. And although she didn’t know it yet, she was.
The rain was streaking down my window, leaving little trails of clarity on the face of the glass. It had been like this for days. And I loved it. The rain blurred the outside world, which for some reason made me feel lighter, like the rain was temporarily erasing the ugliness that lie outside my apartment. It was only on days like this that I could just curl up with my headphones and a good book, and feel like nothing existed outside of my music and fantasy world. And that’s exactly what I did that chilly day in October.
I woke up around 10am to the sound of rain tapping on my window pane. I slowly got up, re-adjusted the My Chem shirt I had worn to bed, and stepped onto the chilly wooden floor. I looked back to see Ghost curled up on the other side of my bed. He was slowly waking up, so I coaxed him, saying
“C’mon Ghost, you hungry?”
His smoke-colored tail slowly started to wag, and soon he was up in the flurry of fur and sheer energy that only dogs can possess. I shuffled to the kitchen, and poured some food into his bowl, the one that looked like a spike collar. As he practically pounced on the bowl, I set about making myself a cup of green tea. After that was finished, I walked into the living room, set the cup down on the coffee table, grabbed a new book from the bookshelf, and picked my headphones up. I then sunk into my favorite chair, securing my headphones on my head and putting my library on shuffle. For some reason, I’ve always had this weird superstition that whichever song comes on first when you hit shuffle will determine the mood of the rest of your day. The first song to come on was Jesus of Suburbia, one of my all time favorites. This comforted me, and I sank further into my chair, pulling a blanket across my lap. I sipped my tea then swapped it for my book. My day had started normally enough, as you’ve probably noticed. But it didn’t stay that way for long.
It was just as I was really getting into my book that someone rang the doorbell, naturally. Reluctantly, I got up, walking towards the door. I opened it to find and brown package. I didn’t remember ordering anything, and I don’t normally get gifts out of the blue. Curious, I took the package inside and opened it up. Looking back, I realize how strange the following situation was. At the time though, there was no way for me to know that. My first clue was that Ghost ran over to me and started barking at the box. I didn’t find this unusual though, as he often barked at random objects. But I should’ve sensed that this was different. Shushing Ghost, I continued opening the box. After sorting through a sea of packing peanuts, I found a small leatherbound journal. I flipped through the pages, but quickly realized this had been sent to the wrong address. The journal was filled with sketches and descriptions of all kinds of fantasy animals; vampires, chupacabras, and the like. I looked at the box, but there was no return address. I now noticed that the box had my name scrawled across it: Syren Elias. Don’t laugh. I know it’s an unusual name, but my parents are Greek and apparently obsessed with mythology. Anyway, I was slightly taken aback, but chalked the whole situation up to some prank. I threw the box, journal inside, into the trash, not thinking twice about it. I should have.