She Waits For the Key to Be Given

There weren't many reasons to sleep anymore. Pure necessity, sure, but beyond that, it wasn't an enjoyable time.

Cali didn't find sleep restful. Her little townhome didn't feel like safety anymore, but thanks to a mortgage, she was locked in. Her home was a series of half-done things; a half-eaten dinner that sat next to her spot on the couch. Her sink was full of half-washed dishes soaking the dried on mess. Half her bed was covered in half-folded laundry. Her phone was full of never-sent texts, half written and half-forgotten.

Once upon a time, she was ambitious. Cali had dreams, a kind heart, and goals to change the world. She once saw the world as an open door. Now, she was just tired. She had stopped trusting what the world had to offer. Maybe it because of the boss who told her to smile when she was fired for turning him down. Maybe it was the last time a man had followed her home. Maybe it was the time a stranger tried to push his fingers past her panties under her skirt while she stood on the city train.

But maybe that trust in humanity eroded away more slowly. Those moments where she felt her sense of self whither away, recognizing nobody was coming when she called for help. The recognition of the quiet violence that was being a woman alone in the world. Constantly being asked for too much, while being offered too little.

Cali moved through her home, checking the locks, and securing the windows. She paused in the living room after she dropped the stick in the sliding door to her balcony. The night sky was blushing a vivid purple as the sun set. As she glanced around the room, the light spilled over her walls and floors like a bottle of wine that had tipped off the table, and nobody had bothered to clean it. Cali sighed to herself.

Maybe tonight will be different.

She turned back to the window, looking through the glass door, checking for unusual cars or signs of a threat. Outside, a black dog sat on the curb.

Unmoving. Unbothered.

Watching.

She watched the dog for a moment, before opening the door and attempting to shoo it away. It stared at her, still as a statue. Cali considered going down to it, checking it for a collar; she shut down the thought. What if it was a trap? She closed the door, looked back up... and the dog was gone. She peered through the window, investigating the street below; not a hair nor a whisper of the dog being there.

I must have imagined it. I haven't been sleeping.

The dreams took hold three months ago. They curled themselves around her spine like a thick, snarling smoke. Every night, she found herself standing on the edge. The edge of the forest, a cliff, the crossroads. The same woman waited each time. A woman in black, with braids hanging long down her shoulders. She looked like she was made of the darkness itself. She stood the same. The same burning torch in her hand. The other hand extended to Cali in wait. Not to take her hand; waiting for the key. Cali would feel the key vibrating in her hand, vibrating so hard it would burn her palm. It begged to be handed over to the woman.

Cali wasn't ready. Not yet.

Instead, she woke each night feeling her sheets twisting around her like a great python, drenched in sweat, her heart pounding like she had barely survived an attempted murder.

-

Cali tried to stay awake. She took long showers, played old records that had previously brought her joy, but now drowned out the sounds of her house that fooled her into thinking someone was at her door. She lit candles, scrubbed corners, drank coffee until the heartburn threatened to crest through her chest bone. She left every light in the house on, her energy bill be damned. But sleep always kidnapped her into it's abyss. It came suddenly, and pulled her too deep, like the trapdoor that came for Ragnar Lothbrok.

-

Tonight, she had fallen asleep on the couch. She slept so deeply, she hadn't noticed her mug fall from her hands, threatening to stain the floor.

She was barefoot at the edge of the crossroads. The cold dirt dug into the softness of her soles. She looked in her hand to see the iron key. At first it was still. Then the whisper of the wind took over. The key awoke. It shook in her hand, and she knew what she would see when she raised her eyes to the center of the crossroads.

Hekate stood, her hand outstretched, her other hand clawed around a burning torch. Cali studied her, her ever changing figure blurring like static the closer she tried to look. Hekate's lips didn't move, and yet Cali heard her speak in a voice that was her own, but different.

"Why do you come if you will not choose?"

The iron key burned hot, and Cali dropped it. Before it hit the dirt, it vanished. Before she could return her gaze to Hekate, she was awoken.

Cali sat upright on the couch, a scream caught in her throat. She desperately tried to breathe, but it felt like gravel had blocked it shut. She grasped at her chest, begging her heart to settle. The lamp that lit her living room flickered, then with a pop, the lightbulb blew out. The television showed nothing but static. Cali looked at her phone, the light of the screen making her squint; 3:33 a.m.

Outside her balcony door, the black dog was waiting.

Instinctively, Cali moved. She didn't pick up her chipped coffee mug, or grab the mop. She moved as though automated, straight to her bedroom, and into the drawer of her nightside table. She yanked it out, dumping the contents onto her mattress. Coins, elastics, pens, broken jewelry she had told herself she would fix one day. Among the trinkets, she found what she was looking for; a small brass key. Not quite matched to the key in her dream, but good enough.

She padded back to the balcony door, the key clutched in her hand. The dog sat, it's eyes barely visible, but following her moves. Cali threw open the balcony door, and thrust her hand into the dog's face, her fingers opened and displaying the key flat in her palm.

"I give it!" she screamed. The dog didn't flinch. It stared at her before sniffing the key in her palm. Only, there was no longer a key. Cali looked down, seeing the imprint of the key still fresh in her skin, but alas... no key. The dog cocked it's head to the side, and for just a moment, Cali was overwhelmed with a sense of calm.

-

Cali didn't fall asleep. But she wasn't awake either. She had laid on her bed, and in the nowhere land that divided the sleeping from the woken, she waited. Above her body, she saw the swishing revolving darkness. She felt Hekate there. She felt like the silence before a scream, or the moment right before a match has been struck. Hekate reached her hand deep inside Cali's chest, wrapping herself around the strings of Cali's very DNA.

"You called to me before you knew my name."

Cali was paralyzed. Not by fear this time. By intention.

"You longed for a life beyond mere survival."

Tears were burning in Cali's eyes. In the background, she could hear the barking of dogs, as though Hekate's voice came from the dogs. Her voice surrounded Cali like the cold of a midwinter ice storm.

"You are mine. And I am yours."

-

When Cali woke in the morning, all of the lights in the house were off. The fallen mug was sat on the kitchen counter, waiting to be filled. There was no puddle of coffee waiting for her in the living room, threatening to stain the wood. As Cali wandered through the room, she saw the balcony door sitting open. She felt drawn to the door, stepping through the threshold onto the balcony. In the east, light was blooming over the horizon, creeping over the skyline of towers and skyscrapers.

She could still feel the key in her palm, though it was nowhere to be found. Cali passed her fingertips over the imprint still left there and smiled. Even though she hadn't been crying, she felt relief, and the feeling of a face washed clean. She drew in a deep breath, the air forming a thick cloud in the cool morning chill.

Sliding the door shut behind her, Cali stepped back into her home. The area felt new, like an animal exploring a new territory.

She was not healed, but she was ready.

The city was waking.

Cali would never be the same.

Not since the evening when Hekate came to claim her.