Alexia

The fire alarm blared in time with a flashing light as I was shoved out of the classroom by the hoard of escaping students. My professor yelled as we gathered in the courtyard away from the ugly old building. I moved toward my favorite bench to wait.

Cali appeared beside me and I smiled at the pink streaks in her hair that popped in the bright sunlight wishing my own streaks showed up so clearly. She complained about the fire drill as she slumped next to me, but before I could comment, Stacy joined us. She seemed less concerned about wasting time and lifted her face to bask in the sun.

I took a deep breath and let the fresh cut grass cleanse the horrible stench that had burned its way in before the alarm had gone off. I thought it smelled like rotten food, not a fire, but what do I know. Smells don’t set off fire alarms.

Sirens from approaching fire trucks broke through the sea of hundreds of student’s conversations. I watched them swing around the corner with their lights flashing. They drove onto the sidewalk and pulled near the building. The crowd hushed as if the fire crew was going to put on a show. I wondered where we would have our next class if the Clark building burned down.

It didn’t.

I know it sounds stupid, but I kept getting a whiff of whatever I’d smelled inside and each time my stomach turned. And not just from how gross it was. The smell scared me. Which really makes no sense.

We had to sit and watch the firetrucks for over twenty minutes before our teachers started releasing us for the rest of class.

Lucky me, it was my last class of the day. Unlucky me, I had to go to work. But getting out early meant I could grab a bite with the girls before I headed in. I work with Stacy and I live with Cali, but it’s still nice to have time to be together and just hang out like we always did in high school.

But I couldn’t focus on them though. I smiled and laughed at the right times, but the words they spoke couldn’t sink into my brain. There was something about the smell. I looked down at the floor at the yellow tiles. A sickly yellow color. Why would anyone use that color for anything?

And then Stacy called my name. I’d stopped responding while staring at the floor. I apologized and glanced down at the shiny white tile. White. Not yellow.

The smell drifted under my nose again and I stiffened. Cali and Stacy both noticed, and I know I told them something, but I have no idea what. I was actually glad to leave for work. Something was wrong with my brain today and I needed to figure it out. I hoped the diner would be so busy I wouldn’t have time to think.

I said goodbye to the girls and drove to work, blaring my new Jimmy Eat World CD and focusing on the words and not whatever was going on with the smell. I pulled into the packed parking lot and smiled. Busy. No time to think.

And I was right, the evening shift passed in a blur. The only thing I felt when I started my side-work was exhaustion. Perfect.

I was mopping when I heard something crack behind me. I jumped and turned. I’d pushed the mop bucket into a table and a sugar container had fallen and shattered on the tile. Easy enough to clean up, but the new ones were in the basement and I was afraid I’d get locked down there. I called out that I was going downstairs but no one answered me. When I went back in the kitchen, everyone was gone. I checked the breakroom. Empty. Either everyone had left without saying goodbye or they were out back smoking. I was willing to bet it was the latter.

I propped the mop in front of the door so hopefully no one would close it up and trap me at Tom’s Diner. I had homework to finish and the last place I wanted to be trapped was at work. Gross.

I grabbed the sugar container and rushed back up the stairs. The temperature of the space rose and it felt like my skin would crack and peel away from my bones. The smell slammed into my face like someone slapped me. I flailed and caught the wall for balance, and I could feel eyes on me, but I knew I was alone.

I pushed the mop out of the way and tripped back into the kitchen and the smell was completely gone. As if it had never existed. I looked around. The back door opened, and I heard the rest of the crew returning to finish up with their closing tasks.

I felt better knowing I wasn’t alone, but…

I rushed through the rest of my side work and then called hurried goodbyes to everyone. I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. In the morning, everything would be fine.

There was a tinkling sound above me, and I breathed in relief. It was raining. The sound of it calmed me. I was fine. I was safe. I don’t know what was up with the smell, but smells couldn’t hurt me.

As I clocked out, the wall turned yellow. Like someone poured a can of paint down the white walls. That same horrible color the tiles had been. And the smell was back. I gagged and tossed my timecard back in its slot and ran out to my car.

Lightning crashed as I opened my door and I screamed. The rain fell harder, and I tried to breathe deeper as I dropped into my seat and started the car. I slammed it into first and peeled out of the parking lot like a madman. But I really didn’t care. I needed to get home. I just needed to get home.

I told myself someone forgot to take out the trash or something. It was nothing. The yellow wasn’t real. The smell was nothing. I was being drama for no reason. I said it over and over. I pretended it was true.

But I never made it home that night. Or ever again. The lightning, the yellow, the horrible smell. It was real. As I stood in the road staring at my trashed car and watching the sparks take hold, I didn’t know the truth. My car burned in spite of the rain and the yellow flames were all I could see.