1 01 | Boring Beginnings

Weird things are good things.

However they're examined, it's true. Well, maybe not entirely true, but they vary from the expected at least. And what could be gathered from those sentences?

The expected is boring, of course.

Boring things are horrible, and that was exactly how I felt about my life only two short hours ago before everything became so incredibly interesting… and not so horrible.

It was a regular Saturday evening near the end of summer. The air still felt humid during midday, but the nights were cool enough to need a jacket. As nightfall approached, more customers came into the store wearing their jackets, complaining about the change in season. Nodding and agreeing to avoid further conversation with them, I rang out their items, bagged them up, and sent them on their way.

21:50… Only ten minutes left, and I could go home! I could be away from all the annoying people who talked about nothing of importance and made horrible jokes and caused my brain to rot. Nothing particularly interesting was at home either, but I wouldn't have to socialize, which soothed my nerves to a certain extent.

Joan walked out of the office and came around the register, twirling her key ring on her bony finger. "What're you plans for tonight, Daisy?"

I shrugged and leaned against the counter. "I've been meaning to catch up on a few articles on cognitive performance under stress and various other factors."

She nodded and walked outside, not saying another word. Her plans involved some movie with her boyfriend or something equally horrible. I tuned her out a quarter of the way through her story for my own sanity's sake, but based on every other conversation I heard, I hadn't missed anything important.

No one ever said anything important.

I finished ringing out the last few customers, all of them buying cigarettes or snacks. All of the real shopping had been done earlier in the day, so none of the last transactions totaled to anything more than $15.

Two minutes before 22:00, Joan shut and locked the door. We headed into the office, counted everything down for the night, and left the store. We told one another goodnight in the parking lot, and she was gone before I'd even pulled my seatbelt on. People were always in such a hurry, and they were never going anywhere interesting.

I started the car and plugged up my phone to start the music. Notes began thrumming through my speakers, and I glanced up to start backing out of the parking spot when a shadow on my windshield caught my eye. Using the flashlight on my phone, I leaned up, squinting at the spot. It was a note left on the back of a receipt.

Well, it wasn't a fucking parking ticket, I knew that. I climbed out of the car and snatched the slip from between the windshield and wipers.

27629402943

Only call this number after the impossible happens.

Snorting at someone's shitty attempt at humor, I crumpled up the note, tossed it into my floorboard, and got back into the car. As I pulled out of the lot, thinking of home, I remembered that I'd ran out of just about everything. If I wanted food for that evening or tomorrow, it'd be a good time to stop by the grocery store.

Turning the opposite way from home, I drove out to the store. While it wasn't particularly late, there was hardly any traffic. A few town cops passed by, a street light went out on the corner of Euclid and Commonwealth, the playlist played in the exact same order it did two weeks before despite the fact that I'd shuffled it.

It was all so boring.

I wanted to pack up and run away, go somewhere, do something that wasn't so pointless. Because what was the point when all I did was ring out groceries, study three different subjects because I was about to be a junior in undergrad and still hadn't declared a major, and sustained myself just enough to exist? Even then, what was the point of existence if one hardly felt as though they existed at all?

I pulled into a spot at the grocery and climbed out of the car, taking my phone, wallet, and keys with me. A few people trickled out of the doors as I strolled in, head down, avoiding eye contact and possible conversation with anyone that passed. In a small town, it was all too likely I'd bump into someone I knew, and I really didn't feel up to the dreaded small talk that would ensue the second an acquaintance spotted me.

The store was quiet, winding down for the evening with only another hour and a half before closing time. I went to the food section and picked up a few things, adding them to the small red basket. Milk, tea, a few cans of soup…

Rounding the corner to pick up a jar of peanut butter before I left, I smacked into someone. Instead of actually hitting them, however, I passed straight through them. Dropping the basket, I whipped around to figure out what the hell had happened. When I looked behind me, there was a black shadow figure hovering at the end of the aisle.

I scrambled back as my pulse kicked into overdrive, blood rushed through my ears—what on earth was that thing?

Before my body could hit the flight portion of the stress reaction, the creature advanced on me. I threw up my hand—like that'd be able to stop a creature I walked through. But, the action caused the creature to fly backwards. Several shelves and their contents hurtled through the air alongside it.

"What the hell…?" I breathed, frozen in place as I stared at the mess I'd made.

Surely that hadn't been me. There was no way. I'd just moved my hands.

I looked down at them. They were pale, like the rest of me, and shaking, also like the rest of me at that moment. As thoughts and theories raced through my mind, an absolutely absurd one came crashing through the loudest: magic.

Magic wasn't a thing… That creature shouldn't have been either though. All I could think was that I'd been drugged at work or I'd gotten into a car accident on the way to the supermarket and my brain had started making up crazy shit to keep me entertained while I teetered on the brink of death. There was no way anything happening in front of me right then was possible.

Possible.

The note!