“For fucks sake,” she said as she exited the train and stood on the platform. It had been a long day and she wasn’t in the mood for this shit again.
The train rolled away, quickly disappearing around the soft left hand bend a few meters down the line leaving her facing the yellow masked people.
“Do you know how annoying this is?” she shouted over to them. There were a dozen today. More than usual, but not the most she had seen. “I’ve had a long day and I just want to go home and have a long bath before bed. I dont need you all following me again.”
None of the people watching her said anything. They didnt move as she trudged over to the stairs and headed up onto the street, but their faces turned to watch her go in unison. She shuddered and quickly turned away from them.
She got to the top of the stairs and, as she expected, found them all standing across the street watching her again. “Go home,” she insisted as she walked quickly down the footpath. “I am not interested.”
Again, only their heads moved as she walked. Following her path. They still said nothing.
She decided not to go straight home, despite her need to soak and sleep. If she went home with them following, theyd be at her windows and even with the curtains closed, she knew theyd still be watching her. She awkwardly made her way into a bar she didnt hate and ordered a glass of cheap wine. Clutching her purse, she found an empty table in the middle of the room and slumped down at it. Being that it was only a Wednesday, there werent many people here. But those that were were the usual kind to drink at a bar on a Wednesday night, that is to say, not the sort of people she would usually associate with. She didnt look at anyone as she nursed her drink and she definitely did not look out the window. Instead she turned her head up to one of the large screens above the bar itself and watched the football game that was playing on mute. She had no idea what was happening in the game, but it beat the alternative.
The TV flickered and she let out a long, frustrated sigh. On the sideline of the field stood the people in the yellow masks. No one else, either in the bar or at the sporting ground, seemed to notice and each time the camera cut to a different view, theyd be there, in the background. Watching.
“Fuck off,” she said.
“What?” one of the men playing pool nearby said.
“Nothing,” she replied, looking down at the table. “I wasnt talking to you.”
“Oh,” the man replied and went back to his game.
Her glass was emptied faster than she had expected and she stood to leave. She took one look out the window before she could stop herself and braced for them to be right there, staring back at her. But they werent. She let out a small sigh of relief and turned to the door, where they were all standing, just inside the bar. It wasnt the first time they had followed her into a building, but it was rare and she couldnt think of the last time they had gone inside a public building. Usually it was just her house or her work.
“You are needed,” one of them said as she pushed passed them and out the door. She deliberately didnt answer or look at them.
“You are needed,” another one said.
“Azalea Flowers, you will come. You are needed.”
“Thats not my name,” she snapped before she could stop herself. “Shut up, fuck off and leave me the fuck alone,” she stalked off down the footpath, the front light of her house, several doors down, guiding her home.
“You are needed,” several of them chanted.
She opted for a disappointing shower instead of a relaxing bath and was frustrated and disappointed at how not relaxed she felt. She fell down onto the sofa – which very deliberately faced away from any windows – and watched TV. She had a feeling she would see them on the TV again, and she vowed to not let it interfere with her enjoyment of whatever garbage was on. When she inevitably broke that vow, she would reluctantly go to bed and dream that same dream. Every time she saw the masked people, she dreamed the dream they made her dream.
She made it to 8 before the yellow masked people were basically in front of the camera, preventing her from seeing anything. They didnt say anything. They didnt need to.
“Fuck you all,” she said, knowing that they would hear it.
The dream started the same way as it usually did: she was a teenager again. 13, maybe 14. She was on a boat with her three best friends, another girl her age and two boys, one of which was her brother, 16, maybe, and his friend also maybe 16. They were all standing on the main deck of a large pirate ship. They had just won a battle. Against who? She couldnt say. Where was everyone else? She didnt know.
She couldnt remember any of her friends names, but they were all looking at her with devoted expectation in their eyes, as if they had been waiting for her to do something. She didnt know what they wanted, and every time she fell to her knees crying. The three of them started to mock her, to taunt her. Call her names and make fun of her. It only made her cry harder.
She rubbed her eyes with her palms, trying to make the tears stop and suddenly the voices of the other children disappeared. She opened her eyes and looked around. She wasnt on the ship anymore. Instead she was in a stone room. It was dark and cold and the only light came from a flickering candle a few feet above her head. It was a cell and she was its occupant.
On cue, she heard the footsteps walk past her door, and on cue she heard her tiny teenage voice, hoarse from crying, scream for help and on cue, nothing happened.
Then they appeared. Standing in the cell with here were two people dressed in long flowing white gowns which hid their bodies entirely and on their faces were yellow masks with simple smiling faces on them.
“Azalea Flowers,” one of them said.
Young Azalea skittered back into the corner of the cell. “Who are you?” she squeaked, her knees up at her chest and her arms wrapped around them.
“You are needed.”
“No Im not!” she shouted. “No one needs me. They dont need me. Just leave me alone.”
“You are needed, Azalea Flowers,” the two masked people intoned together.
“Go away!” the young girl curled into a ball and rocked back and forth on the cold stone floor, sobbing in pain and humiliation and terror. “Go away! Go away! Go away!” she managed to say in between sobs.
The masked people disappeared again leaving only the echo of their message.
And on cue, she woke up. She looked over at the clock. It showed 11.23. She sighed and flopped back down on to the bed.
“You are needed,” said a familiar voice from way too close to her head. She screamed and rolled over, falling entirely out of bed.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” she yelled from the floor. She stood and fumbled for the light switch which showed, predictably, nothing. There was no one in her bed. No one else in her room. She knew that if she went out into the rest of the house there would be no one there either. They might be on the street or the driveway, but she had had the dream, received the message. There would be no more masked people now for some time.
But there had been someone there, next to her in bed. She hadnt imagined the voice. It wasnt part of the dream. That was new.
She tidied the sheets back to normal and climbed back into bed. She did her breathing exercises to slow her heart down and quietly laid back down and closed her eyes.
They were there, on the backs of her eyelids. The masked people. She could see them clearly. She quickly opened her eyes and they were gone.
“No,” she pleaded. “Please dont do this to me.”
“You are needed,” the voice said. “You must come back.”
“I cant,” she said, almost ready to sob like the girl in her dreams. “I cant do this. Please leave me alone.”
“Come back,” said a voice. This was not the voice of a person in a yellow mask. This was the voice of a young girl. “You have to come back and save us,” the new voice said. “You left us here to die and if you dont come back, we will. Azzy please,” the voice pleaded and Azalea gulped down air and caught a sob in the back of her throat. No one had called her that since she was a child.
“I cant,” she whispered. “I cant do that again.”
“You are needed,” the masked person voice said.
“I am not,” Azalea shrieked. “No one needs me. No one has needed me ever since -”
“Ever since,” the young girls voice said. “Ever since what?”
“Ever since I -”
“We will bring you,” the masked voice said.
“How?” she said. “Youre not real. Youve never been real. Just my brain breaking. A dream that I keep seeing in the day. Youre not real. None of you are.”
“Im real, Azzy,” the voice said. “Im very real and you left me here. You left all of us here. We dont hate you, Azzy. I promise. Please, you need to come and save-” the voice disappeared.
“Time is up,” the masked voice said. “You must come.”
“I dont know how,” Azalea said, ready to give into her psychosis.
“Just fall asleep,” the voice said. “Just fall asleep and when you wake, you will be home again.”