Flight AE2167

Flight AE2167

The night was silent. It was almost unnatural, Olivia thought while staring out the window of her bedroom. There were no stars, there seemed to be no wind. Nothing moved under the golden light of the lamp post outside her bedroom. Everything had an eery look of still-life painting. 
It had happened again; it woke her up at stupid o’clock again, the same dream she had had almost every night, for the last two weeks. It was the same chillingly even-toned voice, whispering the same haunting words: come find me. 
She wrapped the blanket around her small figure and walked barefooted down the stairs, into the kitchen. 
She found it strange and fascinating how the human eyes simply adjusted to the dark. After a few moments in it, it was like the autopilot inside her switched on and she knew instinctively which corners to avoid or where the steps were. 
‘It’s a superpower’ Nabil at work would say. 
She liked Nabil. She thought he was funny and sweet, kind-hearted. Unfortunately, he lacked confidence and optimism, which resulted in him being anxious around most people, and really, quite clumsy. 
The kitchen was an open space that overlooked the living room. Olivia walked over to the breakfast bar, feeling the cold touch of the granite floor under her feet. She switched on the standing lamp in the corner, the one next to the door leading to the utility room. She then opened the fridge and got the milk out; poured it into a mug, put it in the microwave. 
‘Come find me.’
She gasped in horror and suddenly turned around, her breath all caught up in her chest. 
‘I’m going insane!’ she whispered shakily, heart beating wildly.
Her recurrent dream was definitely getting to her more than she had predicted. She’d had sleepless nights before, work was stressful and sometimes too much to just leave it at work. But nothing disturbed her sleep quite like this before.
She scrutinised the entire space around her. The microwave announced the end of the two-minute heating cycle, not without making Olivia jump slightly. She cursed under her breath and started humming, in an attempt to distract herself from being scared to be alone in her own house. 
'You've never been afraid of the dark, Olivia. What the hell?'
She took the mug out, careful not to burn herself, and reached for the honey. She squeezed the bottle in the mug and stirred. She took a sip and allowed herself a moment to savour the warmth and silkiness of the drink. She felt instantly soothed. It was like the stillness of the night was now going through her, patting down the anxiety and suspicion.
And then she heard it again, close to her ear, almost felt the words breathed on her neck: Come find me. 
She yelped. Fully frightened now, she held on to the mug with both hands, like it was the only thing that was going to offer protection. She dared not turn around and investigate where the whisper came from, but instead backed up slowly, until her back hit the solid and strangely comforting body of the kitchen drawers. She suddenly felt cornered.
‘Is…is anybody there?’ 
She thought her whimper was pathetic, and she wished she wasn’t so scared. She judged herself for her reaction, but at the same time…she’d felt it! Someone’s breath rolling down her skin. Someone was in the house!
She rummaged through the utensils drawer and grabbed the first thing that her tactile sense could identify as sturdy and potentially dangerous: a meat tenderiser. She let her hands do the judging of her next steps, whilst her eyes scanned the room again. 
Once she felt she had a strong enough grip on the tenderiser, she decided to take a couple of steps away from the corner where she’d retreated. 
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Someone was at the door. The sound made her heart skip several beats and feel sick to the stomach. 
She hesitated. Should she open it? Who could decide to pay her a visit at such a time? What if whoever was inside the house was now playing games with her?
The knocking repeated, stronger now.
‘Come on, get a hold of yourself!’ she swallowed the dry knot of bile and sheer terror that built up in her throat. What if whoever was at the door came to see her because they saw or heard something in the house? What if it was help?
She gave herself a mental pep talk, then ran across the hallway and unlocked the door. She hadn’t let go of the tenderiser. 
‘What the…’
There was nobody there. She looked across the front yard and all the way across the street. The neighbours’ house was in pitch black, there were no cars stopped by, not even an insomniac walking their dog. Nobody. 
She closed the door, shrugging, then locked it. 
‘Come find me’ a dark-skinned man with bright green eyes stared her right in the face. He was there, and then he wasn’t. Like a ghost. 
Mortified, Olivia dropped the tenderizer and ran to her landline. She knew having one installed, even in this day and age, would pay off at some point. 
‘999, what type of service do you require?’
‘Hi, yes, Police, please!’ she uttered the words in one breath.
‘Grimsby Police, what is the address of the emergency?’
’24 Lincoln Street. There is a man inside my house. I live alone, please. Please come quickly.’
All it took was for Olivia to blink, and he was gone. She could not believe it, who disappears like that? Mortified, she looked down at her bare knees, they trembled like jelly.
‘What is the number you are calling from?’
‘It’s 07385…’
The line cut off along with all lights around the house. Olivia froze in place. She tried troubleshooting in her mind and realised that she should not have dropped the tenderizer. Ah, the feeling of dread and nausea that waved over her earlier was now threatening to take over.
‘Oh, God. Oh, my God.’ She kept whispering to herself, her back against the kitchen wall, holding the landline phone to her chest. She closed her eyes, allowing the tears forming behind them to roll down her cheeks. She lowered to the ground, unable to stand for her knees were too weak to hold her.
‘…find me’ whispers spread around the house. ‘You must…safe…’
‘What do you want from me?’ Olivia cried out, her breath knotting up in her chest.
The whispers seemed to travel back and forth around the living room now, like carried by the flow of air in the house. 
‘Olivia’ she heard the voice say her name, clear, with the precision of being close to her. When she opened her eyes, she saw the man again, kneeled next to her, looking straight at her. She screamed and jumped right up, running past him and into the living room. She picked up an empty vase that was on the coffee table. Her fingers coiled around its slim neck.
‘Don’t think I won’t fight you.’ her throat released with a rasp. She found sudden bravery in the threat of violence. ‘I have called the police already!’
‘I will not harm you. Please help me.’ The man rose, a tall, dark silhouette. He stepped forward towards her, then stopped. 
‘That’s far enough!’ she called, finding some control over her voice. She could feel sweat gathering up in the small of her back, trickling down.
‘My plane has crashed. I don’t know where I am. It’s dark and cold and I fear I haven’t much time. Please, come find me.’ He begged. 'It took so long to find someone who can see me, someone to listen.'
‘What do you mean you don’t know where you are? How did you get here, then?’ Olivia said, slowly lowering her arms.
‘I don’t know….’
‘How did you find me? How do you know my name? Who are you?’
‘I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!’ the man replied, his voice suddenly sounding distorted and distant, like he was losing signal. His physical body turned into almost a shadow, an almost formless shape. Olivia could see through him.
‘What on Earth are you?’
‘Come find me.’ He said again, returning to whispers. ‘Flight AE2167’
With his disappearance, the lights came back on. Olivia sat down on the sofa, trying to process what had happened.
‘What did I just see?’ she wondered out loud, touching her chest with both hands, like trying to pacify her unsettled heart.
She knew in that moment that she had to find out all she could about Flight AE2167.