shadows of solace

You were 16, working your shift at the grocery store, your mind drifting as you stocked the shelves. The monotony of the day had you lost in thought until a familiar face entered the store—Stace, the employee who would be taking over for you.

You glanced at the time and realized you’d gone five minutes over your shift.

"Apologies," you muttered softly, almost apologizing for existing.

Stace, always kind, smiled warmly. "Oh, no worries, sweetie. I get it, don’t stress."

You gave her a simple, respectful nod before grabbing your things and heading out. The cool air outside was a welcome relief as you made your way to the car, but it was short-lived. You were heading back to that place. Not a home, but a hell you’d been forced to call one.

As you approached the front door, you felt the all-too-familiar knot in your stomach—a dark, gnawing feeling, like someone was watching. But when you turned around, there was no one there. You stuffed your hands into your pockets, fumbling for the keys as the unease in your chest grew. You struggled with the lock, the feeling intensifying, pressing down on you.

When you finally managed to unlock the door, the feeling didn’t go away. You wondered briefly if it was the first sign of something more—hallucinations, maybe—but you quickly dismissed it, pushing the thought aside as your gaze fell on your father in the living room.

"Evening, Pa," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He barely looked up. "Yeah, yeah... you know the drill. Go to your room. No food tonight. You didn’t come home on time."

His words cut deep, but you said nothing. The last thing you needed was another fight.

"Okay, Pa," you muttered, and turned to climb the stairs. But as you did, an unsettling chill washed over you, cold and suffocating, like something—or someone—was there, lurking just out of sight. The hair on the back of your neck prickled.

You rushed the rest of the way to your room, locking the door behind you and drawing the blinds closed as quickly as you could. You felt like you couldn’t escape the feeling that something was waiting, something dark.

You crawled into bed, your eyelids heavy, and just as sleep started to pull you under, a voice whispered in your mind.

"Go to sleep."