Short Stories By Yours Truly

|#11 The Date|

I stared into the warm brown eyes of the figure in front of me. The corners were crinkled, a smile on the figure's face. It was a nervous but hopeful smile. Tonight was a big night. A strand of dark hair dangled in front of one of the eyes and I moved it away, tucking it back into place.

I heard my alarm go off in the kitchen. It was time to get going. I adjusted my bowtie and stepped away from the mirror, waving goodbye to my reflection before walking away.

In the kitchen, I turned off my alarm and grabbed the roses I'd found for my date. I hoped that they would like them. I stopped to count the flowers. Fifteen of them. Good. I made my way to the door, ignoring the empty bowl on the floor. I'd deal with it later.

The walk to the diner wouldn't be long nor difficult, only about nine minutes, but I still felt a bit uneasy. I hadn't gone out in a while, much less on a date. They wouldn't mind that, would they? My last date hadn't gone too well.

Finding love was hard, especially when you've got qualities like mine. People don't seem to like them very much. They said my appearance was 'unsettling', whatever they meant by that. I looked normal to me.

The cold air nipped at my fingertips, nose and ears as I walked but I didn't care. A woman walked past me and I smiled at her. Today was a good day.

She didn't smile back. Instead, she frowned and turned just the slightest bit pale. She stepped closer to the side of the road when she passed me. Maybe today wasn't a good day for her. I heard her begin to run once behind me. She must have realised she was in a hurry.

I kept walking. I walked past the corner store, the family owned bakery, the past bank and through the park. I was walking past an apartment building when a man called out to me. "Hey, you!" he said. I turned to face him. He held a cigarette between his fingers. "Are you alright?"

My smile turned into a frown. Why would he ask me that? The lady accompanying him scoffed, "David, let the weirdo be. They're probably just high on something that makes 'em look like that." The man sighed and took a step back, sitting on one of the stairs to the building. Did I look high?

I walked away, leaving the couple to whisper amongst themselves. What else could I do? I was nearing the diner. I'd be there soon.

I stopped one building off from the diner and looked at my reflection in the window, my thoughts still on those people's words. I looked fine to me. Like any other Joe or Tommy you'd see on the streets, though maybe a bit paler. I didn't go out much. I didn't do much.

I tried to shrug off the thoughts and made my way to the door of the diner. I placed my hand on the knob and turned it, but it wouldn't open. I pulled harder. I felt eyes on me, so I looked back. A couple of teens looked back at me. I smiled and waved to them and they waved back slowly before rushing away, looking a bit weird. Maybe they were having a bad day too, like that one lady and the other couple.

I pulled on the door once again and this time it opened. Stepping inside, I was met with warm light and the smell of pancakes, coffee and bacon fat. There was no one at the counter, so I found myself a place to sit. My date wasn't here yet, either.

I counted the roses which I'd placed on the table in front of me. Six. That's not good. Frantically, I pulled one out and stuffed it into the cushions of my seat

After a few minutes of waiting, I heard the door open. A person walked in, looked around and upon noticing me, made a beeline for my table. "Hey," they said and I recognised them as my date. I stood up and hugged them.

"I got you these," I said, handing the flowers to my date. They grabbed them with one delicate hand.

"Thank you," they smiled and I smiled too.

We sat down together and as if on que, a waitress brought us two plates of pancakes. "Enjoy," she said. We hadn't ordered, had we? I don't think we did.

"Let's eat," said my date and I obliged. The pancakes looked good, but tasted like musky air.

"I'm glad you could make it," I said.  My date stopped eating for a moment.

"I didn't," they said, deadpan.

"What do you mean?" I asked, though I didn't know if my words actually came out. It didn't feel like they had. I looked at the roses. One of them was wilting faster than the others.

"I didn't make it."

"But you're here, aren't you? You're with me," I said, not understanding.

"I'm not, William. I'm not here and neither are you, not really anyways." My date was beginning to fade away, their hair turning to dust and blowing off in the wind that wasn't even supposed to be there.

I looked at the flowers again. Only four left. The fifth had disappeared like it had never even been there in the first place. My date plucked one away, leaving three.

"Where am I then?" I asked. My date didn't answer but the building did. The bright colours of the walls began to melt away, leaving dull, almost gray versions of them behind. The scent of pancakes, coffee and bacon grease was replaced with mould, dust and rot. The space around me transformed from a beautiful little diner to a barren husk of what it must have once been.

The paint on the walls chipped and the floorvoards creaked as they shriveled up and rotted away. Dust covered every surface, my body included.

My gaze flitted around the room frantically. My heart pounded in my chest.

I turned to my date. "Who are you?" I asked. I realised they'd never told me their name. I'd never even asked.

"I do not have a name, William," they said. "I do not have a need for one, for those who know of me no longer exist in this world."

My date's human body fell away, turned to dust entirely. From beneath the dust emerged an orb, deep black in colour like the night sky. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked, fear settling into my heart. Only two more roses remained.

"I do not need to kill you, William. Your body has already done that," they said, ominously. I looked at my reflection in the window again, but no longer did I see a normal young man staring back at me.

Gone were the warm brown eyes full of life, replaced by dull, dead ones that sunk into my skull. My skin was no longer lifelike or warm. It had turned almost gray, cold and dead. I could no longer feel my heart beating in my chest or my lungs fill with air. My body was nothing more but a wilting vessel.

Only one rose remained and I began to weep. "I don't want to go yet," I cried, begging the being before me to spare my life. The being with me did not comfort me.

"It is your time, William. You've been here far too long. You've allowed yourself to wilt."

"But I don't understand! I didn't do anything!" The being did not explain anything.

"You do not need to understand. You just need to close your eyes and I promise you, you will be okay. You will find your peace." And just as the last rose died off, I did too.

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This one's a bit.. odd I guess.