Here Lies Lillith

Lillith stood sullenly in front of 5209 W Toska St. Aside from her life, it was the most depressing thing she had ever seen. She fished in the pocket of her jacket for the keys and trudged through the rain to the steps down to the basement level. As she stepped off the stair to the landing at the bottom, her foot submerged up to her ankle in icy water. She looked down, the drain in the bottom of the landing had been blocked by a piece of refuse. She stood there, staring at her foot in the probably filthy water, the cold moisture flooding her ruined sneaker, considered kicking the snarl of garbage away from the drain, but ultimately did nothing. She used the first key, a silver modern key to unlock the outside door, then stepped inside the damp bare concrete hallway. She walked past three or four door ways, one marked laundry, and the others with faded numbers stenciled on them, until she reached apartment 3. She held up the keys and selected the brass antique style key and slid it into the ancient looking lock. She turned it one full turn, counter clockwise, and heard the lock disengage. She grabbed the door knob and pushed inside the apartment. Her new home. She felt along the hallway for the light switch. When she flicked it on, the low hum of electricity carried through wires that needed replacing accompanied the dim awakening of an exposed lightulb overhead. As she closed the door, the light flickered, but remained on. She walked into the small space. There were scuffed and long neglected hardwood floors, and to the right a small kitchen, with enough space to put an even smaller table, and to the left a bathroom with an astoundingly intimidating clawfoot tub, a pedestal sink, and a toilet with a patched crack in the tank. She regarded these things without expression or reflection, and moved forward into the space. She saw that the living room had a large, dusty, and possibly prehistoric faded rug laid out in the middle of the room. “That’s homey” she said to no one in particular. She turned to her left and nudged the door to the bedroom open with her soaked foot. The bedroom was small but not cramped, with a large, battered and antique looking wardrobe against the far wall. Probably a leave behind from the former tenant who couldn’t be bothered to carry it up the stairs.

Lillith sighed and with her keys still in her hand, let her shoulder bag slide off her shoulder to the floor. The thump it made as it landed sounded flat, without echo, which seemed appropriate to Lillith. She surveyed the cracks in the walls, the stains of lives past on the hardwood floor, and the drooping plaster ceiling. This all seemed so familiar to her, she decided to just do what she needed to do, so she could go to sleep and maybe be rested enough to work in the morning. She pivoted on her heels and walked out, returning several moments later with two shabby cardboard boxes in her arms. She set them both down in the kitchen before exiting again. She returned back clutching two duffel bags and a pillow. She entered the bedroom, and set down the bags. She knelt on the floor, unzipping the larger of the two duffel bags and removing a sloppily rolled up air mattress. She plugged in the pump and set it to inflating while she pulled out her simple bed clothes, thin sheets, one faded and threadbare quilt, and a mismatched pillow case. Once the mattress was fully inflated, she made up the bed, folded the quilt neatly at the foot of it, before she slumped off to the kitchen to put her things away. When she had finished unpacking everything she owned, she stood in the kitchen, watching her small pot of water, waiting for it to boil. While she waited she pulled a box of macaroni and cheese out of the cupboard, and read the back for something to do. She didn’t have milk, and she didn’t want to spend a few her last few dollars on it, so water would have to do. As the water started to boil she dumped the pasta in. Once she had mixed the cheese powder and water with the soggy pasta she emptied half of it into a chipped second hand bowl. She leaned against the counter eating her meal in silence, When she finished, she washed the pot, her bowl, and fork, and put the half she didn’t eat into a small tupperware container placing it in the fridge before exiting the kitchen to the bathroom snapping the light off on her way. She brushed her teeth listlessly, washed her face, and slunk off to bed. She laid in the bed staring at the ceiling, tears sliding down her face, but she did not sob, or whimper, or really even sniffle. After a few moments she rolled over on her side, pressing her face into her tear damp, flat pillow, and fell into a deep and troubled sleep.

Lillith woke with a start to the harsh sounds of her alarm. She sighed, and sat up. Her air mattress was mostly deflated, and her back ached. She stood up, and stomped sleepily into the kitchen, filling her small pot with water, and setting it on the flame of the stove top to boil, before walking into the bathroom. She relieved herself, brushed her teeth, washed her face, and walked back into the kitchen. The water was bubbling merrily in the pot, she scowled at it before removing it and pouring the hot water into a mug. She opened the cupboard, and removed the nearly empty container of instant coffee, stirring the last of the powder into the water, and walking back into her bedroom. She plugged in the air pump to her bed, and let it inflate, while she stripped her clothes off and changed into her uniform, sipping her weak coffee halfheartedly. When the air mattress was full again, she unplugged it and made the bed. Before she left, folding the quilt neatly at the foot of the bed. She threw her hair up into a ponytail and slid on her baseball cap over it. Another long day, alone, in a parking garage for rich people. Rich people that would yell at her over absolutely everything. She glanced toward the fridge wondering if she had time to eat the rest of her macaroni and cheese before heading out the door, but after a furtive glance at her watch, realized if she didn’t leave now she was going to be late. She hooked her purse over her shoulder, snagged her keys, and hustled out the door, into the inevitable downpour of rain.

Thirteen hours later Lillith trudged into her apartment, dropped her purse by the door. Kicked her foot behind her, to swing the heavy door shut. She slumped towards the bedroom, stripped off her hat, Her hair tumbled from the cap. She stood for just a moment before she fell to her knees before her bed. She fumbled with the cord for the air pump, knowing that the mattress’ slow leak would have deflated it too much for her to sleep on. As she leaned forward to plug it in, she lost her balance and caught herself with palms splayed flat on the air mattress, it was still firm and fully inflated. Too tired to question her good fortune, she kicked her shoes off and reached for the quilt at the foot of the bed, but it was not there. It was pulled up over the bed, and tucked neatly under her pillow. Lillith frowned in confusion, but decided instantly that she was too tired to care about it. Still fully clothed she pulled the quilt down and collapsed into sleep the minute her head hit the pillow.

Lillith startled awake sometime in the middle of the night. She had sworn she had heard a noise in the kitchen. She struggled groggily out of bed, and padded out of her bedroom, peering into the dark living room, the only illumination the faint light from the streetlights filtering through the small ivy choked windows near the ceiling. She didn’t see anyone. She hesitated a moment, before gathering her courage, and stepped out of her room, sliding her eyes from side to side, she poked her head around the corner, there was no one in the hallway. It was at that moment that she remembered she had not locked her door, and left her purse sitting in the doorway. She glanced down to the place the purse should be, and sure enough it was gone. She groaned, and walked to the door, locking it, and feeling a bit foolish for doing so. Kind of like putting gas in your wrecked car. She heaved a sigh, a new license, new wallet, new bus pass, new bag… What a hassle, and what an expense, she wanted to cry just thinking about it. She remembered the cold macaroni in the fridge and decided to eat that instead, and then just go back to bed. Why cry when you could just sleep. Rubbing at her shoulder absently, she stepped into the kitchen, crossing the small room to the refrigerator, and pulled the door open. She snagged the small container out of the fridge, and pulled her fork out from the cupboard containing all her flatware. She put the first bite of mediocre cold boxed pasta in her mouth, when something caught her attention. She could have sworn it was movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked there was nothing there. Or… wait… was that? She slammed the container on the counter so hard the fork jumped out of it clattering to the floor. Her fucking purse was there. It was just sitting on the counter! She rushed forward, crossing the entire room in two short steps, snatching her purse and feeling the reassuring weight of her wallet inside. She flipped the top of the purse back, and peered inside just to make sure, and miracle of miracles, her wallet was still in there! She barked a hollow, incredulous, laugh, before putting the purse back, bending to retrieve her fork, rinsing it halfheartedly in the sink, before gobbling the rest of her left overs. She placed the container back in the sink with the fork, and went back to her room leaving her purse on the counter. She again knelt next to the bed, feeling like surely this time the mattress would be deflated, but it was still, incredibly, firm. She shrugged, crawled back under her quilt and fell backwards into sleep again.

The next day was Lillith’s day off, she awoke slowly, coming to consciousness begrudgingly, like going to make amends with a long standing rival. She knew she had to do it, but she did not relish it. As she became more aware of her surroundings she noticed a few things. First of all, she was not lying on the floor with a half deflated air mattress ballooned up around her. The bed beneath her was still firm and holding. She also noticed the way the pillow hugged the sides of her head, suddenly her memory from the night before flashed in her mind, her purse, the door, and she sat bolt upright, heart pounding in her chest. She turned and saw that the pillow case was still hers, and started to relax. With another squirt of adrenaline, she realized that while the pillow case was largely unchanged, the pillow inside it had been! Her pillow was as flat, and comfortable as a crushed cardboard box, but this one… This one was straining the edges of the seams of her threadbare pillowcase. She snatched it up and wrenched it free of the pillow case, and stared at it in amazement. It was white and clean and fresh and new. No stains from a bloody nose she had had in the 9th grade, no water stains from decades of tears and drool, and spilled water. She squished the sides of the pillow, it was so soft, and new, and springy. She blinked down at it, and felt her brow furrow. Where had this fucking thing come from, and where the fuck was her pillow? How the fuck did it get into her fucking pillow case, and how the fuck did it end up on her bed? Lillith felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her fucking bed. She rolled off the bed, which was still somehow inexplicably full of air. And stared at it. Her sheets were on it, her quilt was rumpled but still there. She leaned forward, ripping and throwing it to the floor. She scrambled to get the fitted sheets off the bed, yanking and pulling with abandon. This was not the air mattress she had purchased 7 years ago. That one had been an off-brand purchased at a thrift store, and this one was a brand new Coleman. She sat back on her heels, overcome and perplexed. Had someone been in her apartment? For lack of ability to think of anything else to do she grabbed the fitted sheet and began to stretch it back over the mattress. She stuffed the pillow back into the pillow case, and then reached for the quilt, and began to fold it. As she started the second fold, she halted. She was so exhausted when she had gotten home last night that she dismissed the irregularity and just went to sleep. The quilt had been tucked up under the pillow, like a hotel bed, she never made her bed that way. She always folded the quilt at the foot of her bed, and had done that for as long as she had been able to make her own bed. What the hell was going on?

She finished folding the blanket, trying really hard to control her breathing and not freak out. When she was done, she rose to her feet, and walked out of the room. She walked into the bathroom, and turned on the water. She used the toilet, washed her hands, and face. She brushed her teeth, and then tidied the bathroom. When she was done, she decided to walk down to the store, and spend her few remaining dollars on more coffee. She walked into the kitchen, and pulled open the cabinet, remembering that she had left the empty container in the cupboard the day before in her haste to get to work. Except it wasn’t there. There was a full, sealed, container of instant coffee in her cupboard. There was also a small container of sugar, and another of powdered creamer. She opened the cupboard to the left that should only contain one box of macaroni and cheese, except now there were ten boxes of macaroni and cheese, and ten packets of ramen noodles, with a few cans of soup tucked away as well. She stared in absolute shock. Feeling not quite like herself she closed both cupboards, and moved to the fridge. Inside, she found milk, lunch meat, bread, mayonnaise, cheese, mustard, and a twelve-pack of soda. She had not had this much food at one time… well ever really. She felt the tears start to roll down her face, as she shut the door to the fridge with shaking hands. She walked backwards away from the refrigerator until her back hit the wall, and slid down until she was curled up on the floor, sobbing. She cried for a long time. Cried until she was exhausted, and damp, and splotchy and red. She cried until there was nothing left. She lay curled up in a ball on the cold, dirty kitchen floor, and shuddered with panicked confusion. She swore she felt a small hand stroke down from the crown of her head, down her hair to her cheek. The touch was gentle, light, and small but Lillith shrieked and skittered away from it.

She leapt to her feet, and snatched her purse off the counter and bolted out the door, not even bothering to lock it. She ran up the stairs and pushed her way out of the main building door, bursting onto the sidewalk. The sun was out, and she ran with abandon at full speed down the street. She was in her rumpled work uniform that she had slept in the night before, hair disheveled, and sprinting down the street in sock clad feet. After several blocks she started to slow down, trying to rationalize what was happening in her brain. She spied a coffee shop and decided if she ever needed a splurge this was the time. She pulled out her hair tie and ran her fingers through her hair, before whipping it back into a ponytail as she strolled towards the shop. She pushed her way inside, and entered the queue, letting her eyes survey the menu. She decided she could get a small americano. She could cover that expense with her 3 dollars. She stepped up to the counter, and placed her order, then reached into her bag for her wallet. She extracted it, and opened it and stood in shock, looking down into the clutch of bills inside her wallet. Three dollars. She had three dollars. She hadn’t been paid yet, and she had forked over all her cash to get into this apartment. She only had three dollars. But here staring her in the face, pressed next to her three dollars, were several twenties, some tens, a few fives, and even what looked like a few fifties and one hundreds. She gulped, and handed over her three dollars to the patiently waiting cashier, and shuffled off to wait for her coffee.

Over the next several weeks, Lillith descended into a kind of numb routine, every day she would get ready, go to work, come home, stoically eat something that shouldn't have been in her fridge, then fall into her bedroom, which was also receiving upgrades she did not make. Her wallet was always full of cash, she had furniture, curtains, art on the walls, and a record collection of all her favorite bands. Everything she ever wanted, but she barely acknowledged any of it. She repeated this routine everyday. She did not spend her new money, but found more and more stuffed into her wallet every morning. She had stopped locking the door, but every morning she found it locked. She stopped throwing things away, but the fridge was always full of fresh things, the garbage was always empty, and the floors were sparkling clean. She sunk deeper into her mind, thoughts racing, guilt pulsating as a real and viscous thing. After months, and months, she finally caved in. She woke up on her day off, and did her morning routine. Once the necessities of her corporeal being were met, she regarded her sallow reflection in the mirror, and made a decision. Just this once, she would use these things she did not buy, but somehow owns. She brewed expensive coffee in her espresso machine, steamed milk, and poured in vanilla syrup. She padded out into the living room and sunk into her plush and cozy couch, picked up a remote that should not be in her apartment and switched on the television. She is met with cartoons, she flips aimlessly through the channels. She stopped her aimless surf when a ticker on the bottom of a news channel caught her eye. “Petty Theft” it scrolled. She turned the volume on, and listened to the last part of the report. Her jaw hung open, horror flooded her mind, her heart shattered into a million pieces.

“-been a slew of petty thefts in the affluent neighborhood of Pitesan. Local business owners state that their cameras are malfunctioning around the hour of 3AM and when they come back on, items are missing. The local banks have also stated that deposit bags dropped in their night slot have been short money, at first they thought that it was a miscalculation, until they realized that all the bags were short. They now have a guard on duty, but the money keeps disappearing. Police are frankly puzzled as they have found no DNA evidence, or evidence of cleaning products. Some residents have also stated that items from their record collections have gone missing, and the local grocery store has had some incidents as well. We will keep you updated on this case as it is investigated, back to you Tom”

Lillith turned the television off and sat numbly staring at the blank screen. She looked around her apartment. She had everything she had ever wanted. She was sleeping better than she ever had, but… was she? She had become so broken, she could no longer be sure of what was real. She felt the tears come, she felt them sliding down her face, she didn’t care. She stood, emptied the coffee cup, having never touched it, and dropped the cup into the sink. She took several deep breaths, then made up her mind. She walked into her bedroom, and found her leather belt. She took it back into the kitchen, and stood on one of her kitchen chairs. She tied the belt to the exposed metal pipe that hung there, she dipped her head sliding it through the loop that dangled. Secured the other end around her neck. Her hands shook, as hot and heavy tears flooded her cheeks like rivers bursting through their levies. She was terrified, but she could see no other way. She had gotten so bad, that she was going into a fugue state and had become a criminal. How many people had she hurt? Just so she could have stuff? She couldn’t handle it. She whispered a silent entreaty for forgiveness, and stepped forward.

But she didn’t die.

She didn’t even fall.

She hitched in a breath, knowing that her feet were not touching anything, and feeling something around her middle, she opened her eyes and saw that there was a woman, dressed in a high collared frock and bodice, her hair in a complicated up-do, only interrupted by the exit wound on the side of her head. The woman smiled, her visage semi-translucent, and in an accented lilt said, “Nah T’day lass, t’int yer time.”