Coffee

Turn off the lights and put the kids to bed. This one is just for you. The Builder continues next week. Much love! Catch up with older chapters here: Chapter 15

She did not know why or how the basement parking lot seemed darker than usual. Knowing it was all her fault for working late on a Friday night, she halted at the door to the parking lot and peeped out of the meshed window. It was one of those stupid doors that let you out and never let you back in, so she knew she had to make a dash to the car once she was out the door. For the life of her she could not figure out why she had parked further than usual. It was a good 40 metres to the car, and then she would have to drive three storeys up - all alone in the dark, dark parking lot.


Steeling herself and pressing her ear to the door in an effort to hear what was going on in the parking lot, she clutched her handbag closer and hoped it would be able to protect her. Memories of Al, the parking lot attendant who had not showed up for work in over a week, saying “I’m telling yas, it’s bloody haunted. The place gives me the creeps!” flooded her mind, almost as though she was intentionally poisoning herself.

The parking lot was virtually empty, save for the maintenance trucks and the rare car. Was that Joe’s car in the corner of the lot? She could not be sure, and she knew he was supposed to be away on business. Willing herself to pay no more attention to things that do not matter, she pressed down on the door handled and whispered, “Door from hell, why do you lock from the inside?”

She pushed the heavy door open and stepped out, her hand still holding it open. Was that a draft of chilly air she just felt? Unconsciously, she let go of the door to adjust her scarf and pull her coat closer. Realising her mistake a little too late, she heard the door shut with a customary “Pffftt” as though it was being hermitically sealed. Straightening herself, she figured she would make a dash for it.

She cursed herself for wearing ridiculous heels – and they were bloody ridiculous. “Six inches of pure sex” her best friend had called them. Bitch. She would tell her a thing or two if she survived the run. Silence deafening, she began to break out into a run and three metres later found herself on the ground, with the left heel of the six-inches-of-pure-sex lying a fancy distance away. Whore. She would kill her best friend for convincing her to buy the stupid, impractical shoes.

Knees scuffed and shoes wasted, she kicked the other side off and mumbled to herself. The sound of scratching, like claws on a chalkboard, pulled her out of her ruminations. “Fucking epic,” she thought to herself. Trying to calm herself, she pulled herself and her things off the floor. “Get a move on, damn it.”

She figured her car alarm would scare anything that was nearby away, she fished out her car keys and pressed the alarm button. Her car began honking and beeping, lights began flashing. And then she started to run. Did something move under the maintenance truck? She did not know and she did not want to know. She kept running. She now heard the scratching become louder and now there was an even more confusing sound, a constant beating of a drum – which she was sure was not her heart. Scratching and the steady beat of the drum only spurred her on.

Skidding a little as she came to a halt, she tried to pry open the car door and something touched her hair. She was sure of it. “Damn it. I’ll fucking kill you with my six-inches-of-pure-sex!” she shouted out. Now whatever it was touching her bare feet.

Stupidly, she jumped back, away from the car. The car alarm stopped, lights turned off and auto- locked. “In movies, jumping away from the car would’ve been the stupid thing to do. Idiot me.”

The parking lot was silent again. Figuring everything was just a figment of her imagination, she unlocked the car, and got in as fast as she could. As soon as she was in, she locked the doors. She looked through the window to see if anything was really moving outside and when she was sure, she adjusted her mirror and saw something dash behind the car. Was it a person? A bat or a bird maybe? Nothing moved that fast. Completely freaked out, she revved the car to life and flicked the gear into reverse.

She accelerated out of the parking spot and began her drive out of the parking lot. She would have to drive three storeys up. How convenient, she figured. She passed the rusty maintenance truck, glancing at it, almost willing something to emerge and show itself. Nothing. As she drove up the ramp to next floor, the lights in the basement died.

“Fucking great. Today I’m going to die in a fucking parking lot. Why not, for special effect, make the lights go out gradually? Fuck my life,” she said, slamming the steering wheel. Good thing her head lights were on. She continued her slow ascent.

With only one more floor to go, she felt better but she knew she would be afraid again when she had to open the window to flash her parking card at the boom gate to get out. She could see the exit already, in the distance. Even Al’s security post was not lit. She wondered if the boom gate would still open. She slowly approached it and pressed the button to wind the window down. The parking lot exit faced the highway and it was well lit, so she could see clearly. No one walked by, no cars drove by. Everyone was back home with their families - or out in some bar getting tanked.

As soon as the window was down, she heard the scratching sound again. Was it coming from inside the car? She thought she was freaked out before. At that moment she was bordering on hysterical. Trying not to scream, steeling herself, she pulled out her pass card and flashed it at the card port. Nothing.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she said, almost crying. The steady banging she had heard before was now thumping on the roof of her car. She pushed the gear into reverse and accelerated. She reversed a good twenty feet, and then stopped. Flipping it back into drive, she revved her car, urging it move. She picked up speed and braced herself for the impact against the boom gate.

She did not stop, would not stop. “You can do it, Carter. Be a fucking man.” She charged at it, pedal to the metal and crash straight into it. The boom gate flung upwards, and she was off. Not slowing down for anything, she flew up the ramp and did not stop at the curb.

She did not see the speeding truck heading her way. It slammed right into her. Metal crunched, glass flew, the airbags that she did not bother to replace after the last accident did not inflate. She died almost instantly. As the air left her lungs and life flew from her body, she heard the scratching and thumping sound and whispered, “Told you to stay off the fucking coffee at night.”


Keep reading Reading Raynes! Much love to all!