Bad Luck or Something More?
Morning light sliced through the blinds, sharp and unwelcome.
I groaned, rubbing my heavy eyes. Exhaustion clung to me. Something was wrong.
Blinking against the glare, I reached for my phone—and froze.
8:06 AM.
Something was missing.
Then it hit me. My badge was gone.
I shot out of bed, panic crashing over me like ice water.
Not on the bedside table. Not on the floor. Not anywhere.
I was 36 minutes late for work.
Jenny had made it painfully clear—she didn’t like me. She watched me like a hawk, just waiting to strike.
I tore through my room like a storm, flipping books, kicking aside clothes—
This wasn’t just a stupid piece of plastic. It was my key. No badge, no building. No building, no job. No job...no survival.
"Mom! Have you seen my badge?!"
“No, sweetheart! You need to take better care of your things!” Mom’s voice floated up like a lullaby, as if I wasn’t drowning.
My heart slammed against my ribs. Where was it?
Then— A meow.
I turned sharply.
Oreo, the tuxedo menace, sat proud on my bed...my badge clamped in his teeth like a victory flag. His green eyes gleamed. He knew exactly what he’d done.
“Oh, you little butthead—”
He bolted.
I tore after him, all desperation and no grace. He zigged, I zagged—
—and my foot caught nothing.
Down I went. Face-first into the hardwood.
Before pain even landed, a hand appeared in my vision.
Henry.
Heat surged to my cheeks. He looked like a movie star—red hair messy but perfect, skin flawless, those dark brown eyes full of annoying kindness.
I was sprawled. Crumpled. Ruined.
“Thanks,” I muttered, sweeping my hair out of my face.
“No problem.” He held something up between his fingers. My badge.
And Oreo, tucked under his arm, looking entirely too smug.
“Um... thanks,” I stammered, swiping my badge. Don’t look him in the eyes.
“So, Anna, where’s Bryan?”
“I don’t know—I just woke up and now I’m late for work!” Already darting. “Gotta go! Have a good day!”
I barely heard his reply. Down the stairs, through the kitchen— Out the back door— Into the disaster car.
Key. Turn. Sputter. Silence.
Again. Nothing.
Again. Still nothing.
Why now? Why today?
I slammed the steering wheel. Frustration bloomed into rage.
Then—Something shifted.
The air grew heavy. The kind that presses down on your lungs. A chill crept under my skin. Like—
Like something was watching me.
I held my breath. A metallic scent pricked the air—then vanished.
Then—My phone buzzed.
Jenny.
My heart twisted.
Answer it.
“Anna, where are you?!”
Her voice pierced like a blade.
“I—I—”
“No more excuses. Your car, your cold—I don’t care. I’ve had it. You’re done. Fired."
“Jenny, that’s not fair! I always show up, I—”
Silence.
Then— A laugh. Sharp. Cruel.
“Oh my God, are you about to cry?”
I swallowed hard. Don’t break. Not now.
“Don’t bother picking up your crap.” Her voice dipped into syrup. “I threw it all in the dumpster—right where it belongs."
The words slapped me clean across the soul.
“You were never cut out for this job, Anna. You should’ve quit ages ago.”
Click.
Silence again.
Fired.
My failures. My mistakes. All of it. Crashing down on me like a wave I didn’t see coming.
Then—
My car sputtered to life.
By itself.
The radio clicked on.
Cheerful. Too cheerful. Distorted. Glitching.
Then— “What a wonderful day this day is...”
Static.
I stared at the windshield, heart climbing my throat.
Wonderful?
Then why did it feel like something was watching me?
