Young Writers Society

There was so much blood. More blood than he ever seen in his entire life. It pooled around the small body of his brother, who lay motionless on the ground. The initial shock subsided and his mind caught up with the events. He screamed, "Mom!" He scrambled back towards the house, he spotted his Mom and Dad exit, panicked. He met them halfway.

"Dayton, what is it? Where's Dakota?"

He couldn't speak. He collapsed, falling to his knees.

"Dayton!" They yelled, "Dayton, Dayton wake-

"-up!"

Someone tipped his chair back and he jerked awake, gripping wildly for the counter in front of him so he wouldn't fall. "I-I'm up!" He stammered quickly. He looked up. Staring down at him was Sarah, her lips pulled down in a frown across her pale face.

"You should get to sleep earlier so you're not dozing off at work." She said, pushing her brown curls from her face.

Dayton avoided looking at her, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."

She leaned against the counter, smiling sympathetically. "You're just lucky I'm the one that always finds you, instead of Kaitlin."

Dayton could agree with that. Kaitlin- their boss, an older woman -would kick him to the curb before he could blink if she ever caught him sleeping. Despite being blind, Kaitlin was eerily aware of all of her surroundings. He worked in a small rune shop with a dark atmosphere, which sold things like incense, potions— the validity of their power was still in question —spell books and other items associated with magic and religion. While working there didn't pay much, it was something, and he needed anything he could get.

Sarah's hand on his arm brought him out of his thoughts and he looked at her again. "Are you doing okay?" She asked.

He wasn't okay, nowhere near. He didn't even remember what being okay felt like. "I'm fine." He answered, mustering up the most convincing smile he could.

She seemed to buy it, returning the smile. "Alright. Well, if you ever need anything, I'm here for you, okay?"

He nodded. "Thanks, I'll make sure to keep that in mind."

Sarah reached up to fix the collar of his uniform and pat his shoulder once. "I need to head out early today, so you're closing on your own. I hope that's okay?" She phrased it like a question, even though he knew it wasn't. He simply acknowledged her with another nod. "Don't fall asleep again, I won't be here to save you this time." She added playfully, walking into the back room with a wave over her shoulder.

When she was out of eyesight, Dayton let his smile drop. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand down his face. The ambiance of the store didn't help his mood. If anything, it made everything so much worse.

He sighed. He could leave in about an hour, back to a home that if he were honest with himself, didn't provide a much better ambiance.

By the time Dayton got off work, the sun was setting and the streets were quiet. He hated closing. The shop wasn't in a great part of the city, and walking home filled him with anxiety every step of the way. He doubted he'd ever actually get jumped or mugged or anything, but his paranoia skyrocketed every time. If he wasn't quick, the sun would set completely and he'd be stuck in the dark.

He locked the door to the rune shop and stuffed the key into his pocket, making his way down the sidewalk toward his apartment. It wasn't a great place; it was rundown, the streetlamps around it didn't even work— it was literally falling apart. But it was the only place he could afford, currently. So he sucked it up and dealt with it.

As he went, he stopped briefly to stare up at the towering walls that surrounded the city. He liked to admire them, though he wasn't sure why. They were an easy four stories high, built from smooth stone to prevent anyone from climbing them- from either side. They'd been built after the Fall. The Fall... he still remembered it like it had just happened, like it hadn't been years ago. It had been a string of catastrophic events that destroyed almost everything; structure, cities... families. The little survivors that it left... well, they lived here in Gleamwood, or one of the other three cities that actually fought to rebuild order. As far as Dayton knew, there were no other survivors that were still sane.

The walls were to prevent the lunatics from getting in, and to protect the civil from going out. Dayton didn't know what it looked like out there now, but it was said to be a wasteland which everyone referred to as the broken cities. You'd think he'd feel safer having them up, but they did little to make him feel protected. Walls or not, lunatics were everywhere.

With a shudder, he kept moving. It was getting darker and darker by the moment. A shiver ran down his spine as he passed through an exceptionally dark stretch of the sidewalk where the streetlamps were shot out. Predictably, his heartbeat quickened along with his pace. The thought of someone sneaking up behind him and stabbing him in the back played through his head. He could almost feel it happening already.

He took a deep breath, "It's okay, it's okay. You're just being paranoid."

A glimpse of someone in the dark just ahead of him made his heart stop.

His mind raced. Should he cross the street? Should he stop? Should he—

The person turned and disappeared inside one of the buildings.

Dayton's shoulders sagged as he exhaled heavily.

The rest of the walk went without incident, and he made it to his apartment building unscathed, as usual. He stood there for a moment at the entrance, collecting himself before beginning the trek up the creaking staircase to his apartment.

The rusted 107 on Dayton's door was missing— again —and an envelope was slipped halfway under the door. He bent down and picked it up, looking at it as he opened the door and walked inside.

On the front of the envelope, in handwriting that was barely comprehensible, it read, "To the freeloader in Apt. 107." He stifled an exasperated groan, ripping it open and pulling out the orange slip that was inside.

'7 Day Notice For Payment. Dayton A. Wilson and any other Occupants. Take NOTICE that unless payment is received in SEVEN DAYS, you must vacate the premises. Payment must be full and be by cash, cashier's check or money order.'

The note went on, explaining how to pay. Scrawled at the bottom, in the same messy handwriting that was on the front of the envelope, it said, "Pay up or get out!"

Dayton sat on his bed, running a hand through his hair. The total came out to over three hundred dollars, money he didn't have and wouldn't have any time soon. He tossed it onto the end table next to the bed where it landed on top of all the other bills that had slowly accumulated there. He kicked his shoes off and pulled his shirt over his head. He threw the shirt to the floor before laying down. He was screwed.