Lilac

Dust covered yellowing window panes, much to the disappointment of the owner. It was already 8 am, and the entire room was pressed by careful hands to its usual sleek presentation. Everything was almost in order. The white comforter had a single wrinkle near where the pillows sunk into the bed. Not a single piece of clothing or disarray could be pointed out.

Across the hardwood floor of the tiny studio, a wrinkled tortoise picked away at a leafy breakfast. A woman sighed and waited. Her eyes were dark, pointed and focused. The circles that underlined the eyes matched the jagged cheekbones of her face. Her long dark hair was tied back into a ponytail, or else it would hang at her waist with traces of split ends reaching farther than her jean pockets. The tortoise grudgingly moved to its flowerpot home once the meal was finished. She eyed the reptile, and then approached the white paneled closet. Now, she knew this would be very upsetting news.

Inside the pantry was empty. Shuffling around in annoyance, she hurried to her purse. Long brown fingers and cracked knuckles pulled out a pack of disinfectant wipes. The strong scent of alcohol and lilac fields seeped into the wood grain of the desk. It spread around the sharpened pencils of the wire cup, and made its way into the corners. Laptop keys sparkled bright with the remnants of the wet towel. Without hesitation, she moved from scrubbing the desk to carefulling throwing the grime-filled wipe into a freshly changed trash.

"If I have to take one more trip this week, I won't be able to afford your breakfasts'' she said to the tortoise. Without much acknowledgement, the house guest made a few scrapes of its claws into the walls of the clay pot. She shook her head, but managed to let a laugh escape.

Puddles of melted snow lined Damen street, as the woman made her way to the blue line. The sky was littered with drooping winter clouds, and the Chicago street was unusually empty for this time on a Saturday afternoon. Orange bottles that served as her only realistic savior dangled around inside her white tote bag. Within a few minutes, the train huffed its way into the station. On her pass, a faded picture read "Elisa Martinez".

On the train, she looked down at her hands. Even with all of the moisturizers and post shower routines (that included almost 12 different beauty products) nothing seemed to change. The lines in her hands were growing deeper, and her face did not adhere to the promises of ads and everlasting glows of $100 serums. A large bump made the train shutter, and her hand brushed against the rail. Looking around, she noticed that no one was sharing the train car with her. "Ugh...now I have to pull out another wipe". Once again, lilac fields infiltrated the space. The train car welcomed this.

Elisa almost fell asleep until a black wrinkled book caught the corner of her eye. With a sudden jerk, the train caused it to fall from the seat and onto the salt covered floor. "No one is even here, someone must've left it" Elisa figured. But curiosity got the best of her, and she decided to pick up the book for a quick peak. First, she grabbed the lilac scented wipes, and gave it a quick clean. Distrusting of its contents, Elisa was hoping it would be gossip or something interesting. Maybe it would contain a list of groceries, a bad breakup, or maybe it would relay another person's piling bills. That thought felt too familiar. Elisa opened the worn cover of the black moleskin journal and to her surprise, there was an envelope taped to the first page. Flipping through the entire book, there was nothing written at all. However, she almost fell out of her seat.

"This is a check....for $20,ooo....god".

"Maybe I should give it to the police? Or the train conductor? But did anyone even see me?"

She wondered if giving it up would be a good idea.

Nervously, she glanced back and forth while putting the black book inside her tote. Instead of going to the store, Elisa decided to get off the train at the next stop and walk around for a bit. "This is an insane amount of money, would the bank even take this if I cashed it? I guess not, it's probably illegal too". All of the new and exciting thoughts about who the check belonged to circled in her brain. The space where a name should be written was left empty, and it seemed eerie. Yet upon further inspection, the check was signed from an official company. Possibly, a small business. When she tried to search for the name or company online, nothing pulled up. "Weird". But with the looming bills and appointments past due, she knew this would be more than enough help to get by. Despite the dings of infrequent messages from her friend asking if she would like to get dinner later, she ignored everything at the moment. Elisa was set on making her luck a little better. With shaky hands as she walked, the book became a stable base as Elisa began writing her first and last name in a pretty cursive on the check front.

Talking to the bank tellers gave her too much to think about, and she wasn't in the mood for people. Guilt turned to desire. No one is going to notice if it's gone.

"I think I will use my bank app to upload this, but I doubt it will work", she whispered to herself.

However, within seconds of the process, it was accepted. "What the hell?" Elisa was dumbfounded. "How is this already in my bank? Doesn't it take days?". But there it was, $20,000 deposited and ready to be used.

Elisa was in absolute shock, but she couldn't tell anyone about this. Now worried, she wasn't ready for the possible legal repercussions of her actions. But....this was a unique find. It was almost impossible to believe. A little black book on the train just gave her a new brand.

"I need to keep this safe, and maybe start paying off my debt soon. Ugh, but I also need to check out those clothes shops or something...it's about time I treat myself..I look so horrible". From the newfound wealth, she decided to ditch the store and the train. Moments later, a shiny black car pulled up on the side of the icy road to take her home.

A thud against the apartment door would ring in the groceries that evening as she needed, and then some. "Even if its wrong, maybe its really not.... I mean, this money is magic'', Elisa told the tortoise. With tired eyes, it stared back. She always talked to Mr.Pebbles. He was the usual therapist, and she found it much cheaper to talk to her friend rather than a stranger in a virtual room. Why bother with help, when she had a very good listener living right here.

The next morning, Elisa's text messages overflowed with bank notifications. All throughout the night, a computer screen had glowed as shopping sprees caught up to her. Ignoring many bills tucked away, she continued on in a sea of stores. With a click of a button, more clothes and accessories were being ordered. It was all a repetitive cycle by stating random confirmations out loud: "this is cute" and "added to cart, cool".

Nowadays, there wasn't much that made Elisa feel human. Every day, the plants and Mr. Pebbles would listen as she begged the stuffed animals to hold her. Tethering to the bed, the eucalyptus leaves would notice her heavy silence. Some nights, the tears would reach the floor and form an inground pool. As usual, she would move her hands wildly while she drowned from air. There's no reason why a pretty package and a new dress couldn't distract the brain for a few minutes just the same as an unimpressed professional does.

At this point, it had only been a week, but so many boxes had piled up in the apartment. Elisa felt she was getting prettier and uglier at the same time. She looked like all of her favorite internet sensations. Even with an all natural cream, her hands remained stained with alcohol and lilac.

"I told you I worked extra shifts, why are you calling me about my posts?" she yelled on the phone to Andrew.

Her best friend wasn't buying it. Elisa wasn't always this unrelenting to her life even though she was introverted.

"Hey, there's no need to get angry, I just haven't seen you for a few days now and you haven't even responded. But all of a sudden, you have been posting these amazing clothes on your page. Where did this come from? What's even going on?"

Andrew was getting heated as time dragged on, and Elisa felt like she shouldn't even bother posting at all. With an angry, "Bye", she quickly hung up and went back to her desk.

Curious again at what she should use the black book for, she opened it. To her surprise, the envelope was missing.

"Where did it even go? I don't remember it falling out" she said to herself as she looked around the room briefly. "Oh well". Checking her bank account again proved to be a sad but realistic slap to the face. "I'm already down 12k....I need to stop at some point. Oh.. forget that, I'm going downtown. Want anything Mr. Pebbles?" The tortoise only swayed its head up and down.

It was Saturday again. Before leaving the apartment, Elisa said goodbye to the tortoise, her plants, and the black book. The new provider of life. On her way to the train, she smiled at the $2,500 available in her account. Boarding the blue line just as she did every weekend, she grabbed the wipes as she sat down. Lilac traveled down the car until it met the nose of the only person sitting in the quiet train with her. Elisa looked around and locked eyes with the stranger for a moment. When she looked at him closer, Elisa noted that he was not breaking eye contact. The man in the seat wore an all-black leather coat. He had a large black briefcase that stayed at his side, and grinned towards Elisa in an unconventional way. As she sat during the ride, his grin only grew wider. His teeth were vibrantly white. At this point, Elisa was becoming afraid. When the train halted at the next stop, she sprinted off.

Now at the store, Elisa made another routine bank account check.

"No....." she muttered. "No, this cant.....wait....this..." the words fell out of her mouth like drops of tears.

There was no past history of the check being deposited. Frantically, Elisa scrolled through every purchase and every dollar spent the past week on her quick attempts for happiness. Everything was in the negatives.

"This is impossible...the check went through", Elisa told herself.

Nothing was there.

Now faced with a major issue, she had to call the bank. Immediately.

"Hello yes...." she stuttered. "I deposited a $20,000 check last saturday, is there any record of it? I made all of these purchases."

The teller was confused but tried to reassure her while looking up the account.

"This account is overdrawn."

"What? But I just looked at it to call you and I had 2k in there this morning."

"Actually, there is no record here. There was never a history documented here of the check by your information provided"

The money wasn't even able to be traced.

Elisa clumsily hung up the phone and re-wiped her hands. But in the corner of her eye, a black coat brushed by in the crowd of people downtown.

From a distance, she could see someone staring directly her way.