"Footsteps" by Angel Rousseau

It’s 7pm on a beautiful fall night in the middle of the woods. Zia looks out her window to

see the bright red and yellow leaves on the trees. It’s funny, she remembers the smell of fall, but for some reason fall here never smells like she remembers. Where she grew up fall always had a crisp, sweet smell. She smiles and remembers the days she used to play in the leaves with her older brother. Building up leaf piles and jumping into them over and over again until they were called in for dinner.

Zia turns from the window. She walks to the bathroom to start the shower. The walls

and floors are bright white. The only color in the bathroom is the deep blue shower curtain. Even the smell of the bathroom is sharp. It reminds her of her dorm in college. She had to share the bathroom with the entire floor, and the walls and floor were white, just like this one. She begins to undress when she hears a sound coming from the bedroom. Confused Zia walks back into her bedroom. Nothing is out of place, the bed is perfectly made, the nightstand next to the bed has her book and lamp on it, and her dresser is off the side of her door. Everything is in perfect order, just how she likes it, in college she was always picked on by her friends who always said she had OCD, Zia shrugs it off and walks back into her bathroom.

Zia gets out of the shower and walks back into her bedroom, and she puts on her

warmest pair of pjs she has. She slips into her bed and begins to read a book that had been

sitting on her night stand. It’s quiet, and peaceful. Then she hears something in the kitchen. Two men, talking quietly to each other. Zia gets out of her bed. Holding her book to her chest. She wasn’t expecting company, maybe it was her father and brother. They said they were going to come and visit sometime soon. Zia smiles at the thought. She missed her father and brother. She hasn’t seen them in a very long time. She opens her door and walks down the hallway to see the kitchen is empty. The men stopped talking. Where did they go? Zia thinks to herself. She hears them speaking softly to each other again in the living room. Zia walks slowly into the hall again, as she reaches the entry of the living room she peeks in. No one is there again.

Confused, Zia walks to her bedroom and gets back in bed. She begins to read again. The men are right outside of her door now. She jumps out of her bed and walks to her door. They are still speaking, but she can’t make out their words. She opens the door, again there is no one. Zia is now nervous. She walks back to her bed and is biting her lip, but instead of getting in she paces back and forth next to it. Who is here, and why do they keep hiding when

she wants to see them? She stares at the door for a long while, and then decides to go out and look for them.

She walks to the hallway and looks down both sides. She walks to one end of the

hallway near the living room and looks in. There is no one. She enters the room, still biting her lip. She looks out the window again. It is funny how the view from here and the view from her bedroom are exactly the same. The yellow on the trees is the same vibrant yellow, the trees have the same bend and curve, even the bark on the trees looks the same. She walks back out of the room to the kitchen. Empty, just as before. She believes they left.

Zia enters her room again still biting her lip. Why were there people in my house? She

thinks to herself. She gets back into bed and tries to read, but she can’t focus.

“Zia.” She startles. There is definitely someone here. They did not leave.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” She asks trying very hard not to sound scared.

“Zia.” the voice says again from the other side of her bedroom door. She is squeezing

her book so hard that her knuckles have turned white. “Zia.” It says again. But it sounded

farther away. He must have walked down the hallway. She gets out of her bed and walks to the door. She presses her ear against the door. The only thing she can hear is the sound of her heartbeat. “Zia.” The voice whispers from the other side of the door. Her heart skips a beat. She rips the door open, but she sees no one standing there. “They are coming for you, Zia.” The voice says from the living room. Who is coming for me? She thinks to herself. “They are coming for you.” It says again this time from her bathroom. She runs out of her room to the end of the hallway.

“Zia.” It whispers again from the living room. She sees a shadow on the wall coming

from the living room. She runs as fast as she can into her kitchen. She goes to the door that

leads outside. “They are coming, Zia.” It says again. The shadow is on the wall again. She

opens the door and runs outside. She runs for cover in the woods, but there are foot steps

behind her. Lots of them.

“Catch her!” A woman says from behind her. The voice was right she thinks to herself.

The footsteps are getting closer. Zia starts to run even faster than she even thought she could. Someone grabs her shoulder. A high pitched scream escapes her lips. Someone grabs her other shoulder. Then the hands push her to the ground. She screams and kicks and punches at the two men whose faces she can not see. They hold down her arms and a woman, who Zia believes to be the one who yelled, walks to her side. She is wearing a pair of blue scrubs. She is holding a needle. She pushes it into Zia’s arm. Zia begins to cry. She is confused and scared. The men pick her up and carry her back into her room. The room has transformed into white walls and a small bed with a book lying on the pillow.

The men put Zia into her bed where she sobs quietly to herself. One man walks out, but

the other one stays. He kneels down and looks at her softly. “It’s okay Zia, you are safe now.”

He walks out of the room.

Zia stares blankly at the wall. Then her gaze shifts to a painting on the wall of bendy trees with their yellow and red leaves in the fall.