Learning Science is Just Being Lied to a Little Less Each Time

            I’ve said it before, now let’s put it to practice. Don’t worry, I’ll pick an easy topic… well, easy to start with. You’ll see. Let’s learn about the states of matter. This is a topic that is typically introduced by first grade. Like I said, easy. So as we all know, there are three states of matter: solids, liquids, and gasses. These have unique defining properties. Solids hold a definite shape and size, whereas liquids take the shape of their container, but still have a definite size, and gasses take on both the shape and size of their container. Still with me? Don’t worry, it gets better.

            Matter transitions between these phases as temperatures increase. As solids get warmer, they eventually melt into liquids. As liquids get warmer, they eventually boil into gasses. Conversely, cooling gasses will condense into liquids, and cooling liquids will freeze into solids. But wait, there’s more. Pressure can also influence the state of matter in the inverse manner of temperature. As pressure increases matter shifts towards solids and as it decreases it shifts towards gasses. This means that matter can transition from one phase to another even at a constant temperature.

            Now phase changes between the states are not always a linear transition from solid to liquid to gas and back. Since they are affected by both temperature and pressure, we add a second dimension into the mix. At relatively low pressures, it is possible for solids to sublime directly to gasses, and conversely at higher pressures, gasses can deposit to solids. Again, I am talking relative pressures here, they very from substance to substance, and for some, ambient pressure may be sufficiently low for sublimation.

Now water is an exception to the typical phase relationships, so forget everything I just said. Water’s freezing temperature actually decreases with increasing pressure, meaning the more pressure the colder water has to be to freeze. This is due to hydrogen bond formation disrupting the expected interactions of molecules. In fact, variations in the formation of the solid phase brought on by differing rates and conditions under which the solid is formed can lead to numerous different solid forms of the same substance. There are several different kinds of ice, for example, all comprised of pure water. This can even be observed with pure elements; think diamonds and graphite. So to say something is solid is not necessarily as straightforward as you may think. Other interesting phenomena occur with mixtures, due to the interactions between the components, including changes in the transition point, separation of the components, and combinations of two different phases, but we’ll leave that be.

            Now, what happens at high temperatures and pressures? Everything falls apart and you get supercritical fluids, effectively both a liquid and a gas at the same time. This is considered a continuous transition, in contrast to the changes previously mentioned which all had a latent thermal period; that is, where matter is either absorbing or releasing energy during its transition, but the temperature remains constant. Continuous transitions also include things like transitions between magnetic states and transitions into superconducting states.

            So there are the three states of matter. Except that there are actually four states of matter. Let’s talk about plasma. This is a classically identified, distinct phase of matter. It is characterized by the coexistence of stripped electrons and ionized particles. The net charge is typically near neutral, as there are an equal number of electrons and ions coexisting. Often the process occurs through collisions displacing electrons, and displaced electrons begetting more collisions. Plasma is ionized gas and thus cannot transition between the other states of matter directly. The degree of ionization at which a gas becomes a plasma can be up to interpretation, but physical properties differ greatly between the two. One of the key differences is potential, as plasma has very high conductance, whereas gasses have very low conductance.

Similarly to the other phases, plasma can take unique forms when produced under atypical circumstances. For example, although plasma is typically very hot (we’re talking 17,000^oF), so called ‘cold plasma’ can form where the electrons take on their typical high energy, high temperature nature, but the ions in the mix exist at near ambient temperature.

So there are the four fundamental states of matter with some of their less conventional variants. Other variants on the traditional states include glass which is a non-amorphous solid, liquid crystals which act as both liquids and solids, superfluids which have no resistance and thereby perfect fluidity, supersolids which are superfluids that maintain their shape, and even superglasses, as well as others, some of which are likely still to be discovered.

What about the non-classical states of matter? You didn’t think it was just those four? No, depending on who you ask there are seven or more states of matter. Some of the more well-known include Bose-Einstein condensate (BEC), quark-gluon plasma, and degenerate matter. A BEC occurs when temperatures approach absolute zero and matter no longer behaves as independent particles, but rather a quantum singularity. Quarks are subatomic particles held together by the strong force mediated by gluons. At very high temperatures (now we’re talking about 7,000,000,000,000^oF), energy becomes sufficient such that quark can overcome the strong force and move freely amid gluons. Degenerate matter is what happens at pressure extremes, think the center of stars. At these high pressures, particles become so compressed that matter behaves quite differently than it would otherwise be expected to. There are many flavors of degenerate matter, but it’ll probably turn out that those are just oversimplified versions of the truth too.

-AMS

$82 Pizza

            Let’s make an analogy. I’ll use pizza. Everyone loves pizza, myself included, and it’s a business model I think we can all pretty easily wrap our minds around. So, let’s say you own a pizza business. You buy ingredients, you use those to cook pizzas, then you sell the pizzas to people for an amount greater than what you spent on the ingredients. People will pay the premium price, either because they cannot make a pizza as delicious as yours, or they simply don’t want to go through the time and effort to do so.

Now let’s say you typically sell your pizzas for fifteen dollars a pop… er, pizza. You can sell pop too if you want. But anyway, fifteen dollars will get you a large cheese pizza. Now, your pizza is pretty darn good. I mean, you even won a local contest last April for “Best Local Pizza.” I think we can all agree fifteen dollars is a steal for your pizza. Maybe it is about time you raise your prices a little.

So, the next day you open up shop. A regular customer rings you up and says, “I’ll have one large cheese pizza and a 2-liter of pop.” Incidentally, you decide to start selling 2-litters of pop for a $1.99.

“Sure thing Frank,” you say, “That’ll be $83.99 plus tax.”

“What!” exclaims Frank. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Look Frank,” you say frankly, “My pizza is the best in town, so I deserve to make a nice little profit off of it.”

Frank is outraged. He begins protesting outside of your store, he writes letters to the legislature demanding your restaurant be forced to lower its prices, he even takes to villainizing you the internet. All the while, you actually found a market for high end pizzas. Go figure. At the end of the month you posted record profits and even opened up a second store. As you hire new employees to staff your new store, you decide to bring Frank on. You know, to make amends.  Little do you know, Frank is still begrudged over the price hikes. He steals your secret pizza recipe and opens his own store, selling your pizzas for $50 each. He even sells pop too, just like you.

At this point, you take Frank to court and the judge sides in your favor. You run Frank out of business and ruin his life. The media runs a story on the “greedy pizza giant” destroying the local pizza market. People talk about the corrupt pizza business owner that takes advantage of their customers. You are probably the most hated person in the pizza business. But you know what? Profits have never been better.

-AMS

What You Should Know

            In working our day to day jobs, we become very familiar with every aspect of those job. We come to know all of the ins and outs, what makes things run smoothly, and what can throw off an operation in an instance. And in this familiarity, we can forget the laypersons understanding of our service and problems can arise. We have all had the encounters where we wonder: doesn’t this person know how this is supposed to work? But maybe they don’t. Perhaps, this is the first time this person has ever had to utilize this service. Or maybe they’ve been making the exact same mistake for the past five years and no one has bothered to teach them otherwise. What we often fail to realize is that the things that have become so familiar to us, were not inherently that way. Thus, I have compiled a list pertaining to my career field of pharmacy of things that might benefit you to know.

Pharmacists are typically doctor level trained professionals. They know a lot more about healthcare than just what the drugs do.

Pharmacists are specifically trained in recommending over the counter medications. The next time you feel overwhelmed by the shelves upon shelves of cough and cold products, ask for a recommendation based upon your specific symptoms, other health conditions, and concurrent medications you are taking. You will get a much better, more individualized recommendation than your coworker who says: Nyquil always works for me.

Pharmacies are busy. The next time you ask what is taking so long with your medication, keep in mind that pharmacies can fill upwards of 800 prescriptions a day, and every one of those people inevitably think their orders should be top priority.

Pharmacists typically want you to get your medication, save for inappropriate orders for drugs of abuse. It is good for your health. It is good for their metrics, or if they have a stake in the pharmacy, their profits. It is the essence of their business, so they have every incentive to get you your medications. But, they have to be compliant with the DEA, the board of pharmacy, the policies of whatever company they work for, and someone has to pay for the medication. With the current insanity that is drug pricing in the U.S., if your insurance isn’t paying for it, there’s a very good chance you cannot afford it.

Medications are very expensive. If you are insured, you might not realize just how expensive. Every pharmacist has had some variation of this dialogue:

“I’m afraid your insurance doesn’t cover this product.”

“Well I’ll just pay for it then, how much is it?”

“For a 30 day supply it would be $1,399.”

Luckily, your pharmacist is also an expert at third party claims adjudication and can recommend an alternative to your physician that is both cost effective and therapeutically equivalent.

Lastly, the number one thing I wish people knew about pharmacy. What are those prescription discount cards I keep getting in the mail? It says I can save up to 80%. Prescription discount cards are alternatives to billing a prescription drug to your insurance. Typically, they help reduce costs for the uninsured, although occasionally they can offer lower prices than your prescription drug benefits. Here is what you need to know.

You cannot bill both the discount program and your insurance for the same medication, it is one or the other.

Claims to the discount program do not apply to insurance benchmarks such as meeting your deductible or out of pocket maximum.

The copay for a covered product will almost always be less billed through your insurance e.g. a drug that costs $80 will probably have a $10 copay if billed through commercial insurance but cost around $40 with a discount program.

It is not a coupon. Even checking the price for a card requires the initial claim to be reversed, the new claim to be processed through the discount program, and if the price is higher, as I just mentioned it probably will be, you then have to reverse the new claim and rebill the insurance company, then re-ring the entire sale. All, essentially, for nothing. These cards are great options for the uninsured, however, if you have prescription drug coverage they are not likely to save you much. If you have medication that is already very expensive through your insurance it may be worth a try, however, if this is a chronic medication, using a therapeutic alternative that is covered by your insurance is likely a much more sustainable option. Luckily, your pharmacist can make such recommendations if you ask.

I hope this helps you the next time you visit the pharmacy.

-AMS

The Witch's Curse

            He pours a glass of water and pulls out a vial from the cabinet. He pops off the cap and takes one of the pills. Quetiapine for paranoid delusions. Yeah, they would be paranoid too if someone was stalking their every move. He takes a long drink from the glass he just poured, then carefully, he makes his way into the living room. He has gotten pretty good at navigating the house in the dark. Its been a week now, since he last dared turn on the lights. All of the doors are dead bolted, every window locked, and every curtain drawn. He makes his way to the street facing window, then using two fingers, he gently parts the curtain just enough that he can peek out.

            Sure enough, there it is. Parked across the street and one house down, a tan Chevrolet. It is too dark to see if– who is in the car, but he knows. It’s the same car that has been following him all month. The same girl. The same long brown hair, the same pale skin, and the same eyes peering at him from every shadow. She does not approach him. She does not speak to him. She just watches. Taking in every move he makes.

            I’ve tried the police, but without a threat of violence, there is nothing they can do. I’ve tried staying at a hotel for a week… she was there. I considered trying to catch a mob boss offing someone just so I could be put in witness protection. Hell, I’d off them myself if I wasn’t convinced she would be there working at the prison. There is only one way out of this.

He grabs his keys, fills another glass and gulps it down, wishing it were vodka instead of tap water. He gets into the car and turns on the ignition. The garage remains closed; the garage door securely locked. As the car runs he begins to feel the effects slip over him. Slowly his senses dull, his eyes holding shut longer with each blink, and just as he begins to slip into sweet unconsciousness, he hears a banging noise. It’s loud at first but growing smaller with each second as everything goes silent black.

…

…

…

Faintly he hears a fan. Steadily it grows louder. Now chatter. People are talking. The fan continues to whir. A dream? He tries to open his eyes. No use. The voices are nondescript. Suddenly an alarm begins to sound. He manages to pull his eyes open. They take in light, but he cannot see. Not yet. Everything is a blur of white and grey. But he can hear now. Yes. He can hear clearly.

“Code blue. Room 434. Code blue. Room 434. Code blue. Room 434.”

He is in a hospital. Now his vision is returning. It’s still blurry, but he tries to focus. Is he alive? Is he dying? There is a board on the wall opposite him. Focus! Names. Dr. Patel. Nurse Carla. Room 428. 428. He’s not dying. Not yet anyway. But how did he get here? And is not dying anything to be celebrating? Well, he is alive for now. One step at a time. The girl. The girl! She’s here. She is standing in the doorway. He tries to speak. There is a tube in his throat. How did he not notice that earlier? That’s not a fan, it’s an oxygen pump. Another alarm sounds. This one is different, and also closer. It’s coming from one of the machines in his room. He looks back at the doorway. The girl is gone. Soon a nurse comes in. “You’re finally awake,” she says with a smile. “You’re a very lucky man, do you know that? The good Samaritan that saved your life had to bust down your door to get you out of there. It’s a good thing she was watching over you.

            When he finally gets to see the doctor that evening, he learns that he was found passed out from carbon monoxide poisoning. A young woman alerted emergency personal and delivered CPR until they arrived. She saved me? But why?

            “We’re going to have to keep an eye on you for a while longer,” the doctor explains. “Make sure there was no further damage from the lack of oxygen and ensure you’re breathing okay on your own, but I think you should make a full recovery. Hopefully we will have you out of here in the morning.”

            That night his eyes never leave the doorway. Looking for the girl. He knows she’s here somewhere. He hits the call button for the nurse a couple times when someone flies passed the door. A brief panic followed by the realization it is just a staff member with somewhere to be. Maybe he is paranoid. He battles sleep all night. Eventually, sleep wins, and he drifts off for an hour or so, only to jolt back awake. The fear of being unable to stay awake compounds his fear of the girl, and come morning, he is delusional from fear and exhaustion. He calls his nurse and tells her he needs to leave.

            “You haven’t been cleared by the doctor yet,” she tells him. “He’ll be around in about an hour to see if you’re fit to go.”

            “You can’t hold me here.”

            “We’re just trying to keep you safe dear.”

            “I understand the risk. I wish to leave.”

            “Frankly, sir, the doctor has some questions about how you ended up in that car in the first place.”

            Damn it. If they think it was a suicide attempt they’ll put me in a psych hospital until they’re convinced I’m not a threat to myself. “It was an accident. I was heading out to pick up a pizza, but when I tried to open the garage, the door was stuck. I was so preoccupied trying to get it to work, I didn’t even think to turn the engine off. Next thing I know, I’m waking up here.”

            “The doctor will be around in about an hour. You can explain the situation to him then, okay? Until then just try to relax. I’ll go get something to help calm you down.”

            A sedative. That’s no good. I need to get out of here. Play it cool. “Alright,” I say, “I’ll just wait for the doctor then.”

            “There you go. I’ll be right back, okay?”

            He nods, and the nurse walks out to get the sedative the doctor ordered if he became agitated or anxious. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten, then changes into is clothes and slips out of the room. He makes his way to the stairwell and quickly descends the stairs, ever vigilant for the girl, and now also hospital staff that might be looking for him. He makes it to the ground floor and calmly walks toward the door. As he does, an overhead speaker calls security to the third floor. He does not break stride and continues out the door.

            Out in the morning sun, he spies a bus pulling up to a nearby stop. He runs over waving at the driver not to drive off. He hops on, pays the fare, and takes a seat. He doesn’t know where this bus line goes, but at the moment he just needs distance between him and the hospital, and hopefully the girl as well, although he knows deep down, that is too much to ask for.

            He rides for a while and gets off downtown. As the bus pulls away from the stop, he catches sight of something. A tan Chevrolet that had been one car back from the bus. He looks on down the road where the car turns into a nearby parking garage. How!? How did she possibly find me? He never did see her at the hospital. She must have been waiting outside. Watching the doors, waiting for him to leave. Then when he got on the bus she just followed it here.

Seriously, does this girl having nothing else in her life but to stalk me? Why me? What did I do? What does she want? I think its about time I found out. A deep breath. Then another. And then he walks toward the parking garage.

            “What’s the story up there?”

            “One dead.”

            “How’d it happen?”

            “Honestly. I have no idea. No apparent wounds or trauma. No drugs. Too young for a heart attack. Some underlying illness is my best guess.”

            “We’ll have to wait for the autopsy I guess.”

            A siren swells as an ambulance pulls up to the scene, its lights dancing in time with the other emergency vehicles already there. A small crowd of people has gathered around the area. Some waiting to get their cars from the garage, others just overly curious passersby.

            As he walks into the garage, the woman is just stepping out of her car. “Hey!” he shouts. The woman jumps, startled. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting him to approach her. She probably didn’t even think he’d noticed her following him. He begins toward her, but she quickly takes off toward the stairwell in the corner of the garage. He bursts into a sprint and follows after her. He gains on her at first, but as he reaches the stairwell, she turns to look at him. It then dawns on him that he still has no idea what she wants, or for that matter what she is capable of doing. This specter that has inhabited the dark corners of his life for the past two years. Clearly, if she had wanted him dead, he would be by now. Hell, she even saved his life. But why? She takes off again up the stairs. He must know. After a brief pause he climbs the stairs after her, albeit more cautiously than he had pursued her before.

            The woman continues to the top floor of the garage and makes her way to the far end of the roof. The garage is only about half full, and there isn’t a single car up on the roof. He walks across the empty parking spaces, not quickly, but deliberately. The woman turns to face him and calls out in a cracking voice, “What do you want?”

            What do I want, he thinks. What do I want? This is not exactly how he saw this encounter playing out. Then again, he really didn’t think about how this would play out at all. He just knew he had to put an end to it, one way or another. “Why have you been stalking me?” He asks, finally.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Don’t pull that shit on me. I know its you. You have been stalking me for two years. Everywhere I go, everything I do. You are always there, watching my every move. Now I want to know why.”

            “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You would just say I’m crazy.”

            “Funny, that’s what everyone has been saying about me lately. So come on, try me,” he says continuing toward her again.

            “I have to… to keep you alive,” she stammers.

            “What are you talking about? Keep me alive. Was I in danger?”

            “No, but… I just couldn’t… risk it. The fear was driving me insane. Always worrying, always wondering, if today was gonna be the day. Wondering when it would happen. Knowing any moment could be the last.”

            “And why would you care what happened to me,” he asks, now stepping within arm’s reach of her.

            She tries to take a step back, but there is nowhere to step and her foot hits against the foot-high lip of the roof. “I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

            Without warning, he reaches out and grabs her by the arm. “I’m getting real sick of you saying that.”

            She jerks back in surprise and almost loses her balance. She quickly throws her weight to the side to keep herself from toppling backwards. As she does he loses his grip and stumbles forward. His foot catches the concrete rim that runs the perimeter of the roof and his knee buckles sending him toppling over the roof. The woman screams and scrambles toward him. She reaches her hand out over the roof in vain, but he is already beyond reach and speeding toward the asphalt below.

            Sirens blare as emergency vehicles make there way down ninth avenue toward the parking garage. A panicked caller explained to the 911 operator that he saw a man fall from the ninth avenue garage. Another caller was in hysterics after a man fell from the sky and almost landed on top of her. The police arrived and quickly secured the scene. “We got a name?” one of the officers ask.

“Michael Sorrows,” another answers, pulling out the victim’s license.

The first officer radios the name and details of the scene back to the station. A little while later they respond and inform him that Michael Sorrows recently left a hospital against medical advice, and before he could be questioned for a possible suicide attempt. Well that would certainly explain the situation, the officer thought.

Not a minute after the station responded, the radio crackles back to life. This time it is one of the other officers on the scene. “I’ve got another body on the roof.  A young woman.”

            Maybe it was the stress from being understaffed at work… yet again. Maybe it was the frustration from sitting in traffic for forty-five minutes to go two miles to her exit because some idiot flipped his car after cutting off a semi-truck. Pick a fight with a semi, and the semi is going to win. Then again, maybe she had just grown complacent in her indifference toward other people. Whatever the reason, the didn’t think much of it, when she accused the old lady of breaking into her car, and she didn’t give much credence to her story of an honest mistake, and the same model and color, and blah, blah, blah. She was obviously another homeless bum, trying to make a quick buck off of whatever she could pawn. And she certainly didn’t expect to see the old woman standing in front of her house that night when she glanced out her window.

Frightened by the unexpected sight, and worried she’ll try to break in, the woman quickly checks to see if all of the doors are locked. With her phone ready to call the police if the lady steps foot on her property she goes back to the window to keep an eye on her. But when she looks out, the woman is gone. She checks the back windows, but the yard is empty. Maybe she left, she thinks to herself.

“You would be so lucky,” a voice from behind her cackles.

The woman turns around to see the old lady standing in her kitchen. “How did you get in here?” she asks.

“Child,” the old woman croaks, “you couldn’t even imagine the things I am capable of. But fear not, I am not going to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you earlier,” the woman tries to explain. “It was an honest mistake. Anyone would have thought the same thing in my position.”

“You did not believe me, so tell me why I should believe you.”

“I’m sorry. Please, just take whatever you want and leave me alone.”

“You lack trust. Even now, you distrust me. Even after I assured you I would not hurt you. Let me assure you, it will be your own undoing if you do not learn to trust in others.”

“Okay, okay. I trust you. Now please, just go.”

“Your fate is in your own hands, dear, as well as those of this man.” The old woman waves a hand and the visage of a man appears.

“Who is that? And what does he have to do with me?”

“Your lives are now connected, and you will have to trust in him as you do in yourself. His fate is your own. If he lives, you live. But if he dies, you die. Can you trust your life to another?”

“Wait, I don’t understand.”

“Yes you do. Trust in him and you will have nothing to fear.”

“But,” the woman starts, but the old lady is gone. She stands there for quite some time, alone in the kitchen staring at the now absent face of the man she must trust, and thus begins the first of many sleepless nights to come. Who is this man? She must know. She must find him.

-AMS

The Witch's Curse Part Four

            Maybe it was the stress from being understaffed at work… yet again. Maybe it was the frustration from sitting in traffic for forty-five minutes to go two miles to her exit because some idiot flipped his car after cutting off a semi-truck. Pick a fight with a semi, and the semi is going to win. Then again, maybe she had just grown complacent in her indifference toward other people. Whatever the reason, the didn’t think much of it, when she accused the old lady of breaking into her car, and she didn’t give much credence to her story of an honest mistake, and the same model and color, and blah, blah, blah. She was obviously another homeless bum, trying to make a quick buck off of whatever she could pawn. And she certainly didn’t expect to see the old woman standing in front of her house that night when she glanced out her window.

Frightened by the unexpected sight, and worried she’ll try to break in, the woman quickly checks to see if all of the doors are locked. With her phone ready to call the police if the lady steps foot on her property she goes back to the window to keep an eye on her. But when she looks out, the woman is gone. She checks the back windows, but the yard is empty. Maybe she left, she thinks to herself.

“You would be so lucky,” a voice from behind her cackles.

The woman turns around to see the old lady standing in her kitchen. “How did you get in here?” she asks.

“Child,” the old woman croaks, “you couldn’t even imagine the things I am capable of. But fear not, I am not going to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you earlier,” the woman tries to explain. “It was an honest mistake. Anyone would have thought the same thing in my position.”

“You did not believe me, so tell me why I should believe you.”

“I’m sorry. Please, just take whatever you want and leave me alone.”

“You lack trust. Even now, you distrust me. Even after I assured you I would not hurt you. Let me assure you, it will be your own undoing if you do not learn to trust in others.”

“Okay, okay. I trust you. Now please, just go.”

“Your fate is in your own hands, dear, as well as those of this man.” The old woman waves a hand and the visage of a man appears.

“Who is that? And what does he have to do with me?”

“Your lives are now connected, and you will have to trust in him as you do in yourself. His fate is your own. If he lives, you live. But if he dies, you die. Can you trust your life to another?”

“Wait, I don’t understand.”

“Yes you do. Trust in him and you will have nothing to fear.”

“But,” the woman starts, but the old lady is gone. She stands there for quite some time, alone in the kitchen staring at the now absent face of the man she must trust, and thus begins the first of many sleepless nights to come. Who is this man? She must know. She must find him.

-AMS

The Witch's Curse Part Three

            “What’s the story up there?”

            “One dead.”

            “How’d it happen?”

            “Honestly. I have no idea. No apparent wounds or trauma. No drugs. Too young for a heart attack. Some underlying illness is my best guess.”

            “We’ll have to wait for the autopsy I guess.”

            A siren swells as an ambulance pulls up to the scene, its lights dancing in time with the other emergency vehicles already there. A small crowd of people has gathered around the area. Some waiting to get their cars from the garage, others just overly curious passersby.

            As he walks into the garage, the woman is just stepping out of her car. “Hey!” he shouts. The woman jumps, startled. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting him to approach her. She probably didn’t even think he’d noticed her following him. He begins toward her, but she quickly takes off toward the stairwell in the corner of the garage. He bursts into a sprint and follows after her. He gains on her at first, but as he reaches the stairwell, she turns to look at him. It then dawns on him that he still has no idea what she wants, or for that matter what she is capable of doing. This specter that has inhabited the dark corners of his life for the past two years. Clearly, if she had wanted him dead, he would be by now. Hell, she even saved his life. But why? She takes off again up the stairs. He must know. After a brief pause he climbs the stairs after her, albeit more cautiously than he had pursued her before.

            The woman continues to the top floor of the garage and makes her way to the far end of the roof. The garage is only about half full, and there isn’t a single car up on the roof. He walks across the empty parking spaces, not quickly, but deliberately. The woman turns to face him and calls out in a cracking voice, “What do you want?”

            What do I want, he thinks. What do I want? This is not exactly how he saw this encounter playing out. Then again, he really didn’t think about how this would play out at all. He just knew he had to put an end to it, one way or another. “Why have you been stalking me?” He asks, finally.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Don’t pull that shit on me. I know its you. You have been stalking me for two years. Everywhere I go, everything I do. You are always there, watching my every move. Now I want to know why.”

            “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You would just say I’m crazy.”

            “Funny, that’s what everyone has been saying about me lately. So come on, try me,” he says continuing toward her again.

            “I have to… to keep you alive,” she stammers.

            “What are you talking about? Keep me alive. Was I in danger?”

            “No, but… I just couldn’t… risk it. The fear was driving me insane. Always worrying, always wondering, if today was gonna be the day. Wondering when it would happen. Knowing any moment could be the last.”

            “And why would you care what happened to me,” he asks, now stepping within arm’s reach of her.

            She tries to take a step back, but there is nowhere to step and her foot hits against the foot-high lip of the roof. “I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

            Without warning, he reaches out and grabs her by the arm. “I’m getting real sick of you saying that.”

            She jerks back in surprise and almost loses her balance. She quickly throws her weight to the side to keep herself from toppling backwards. As she does he loses his grip and stumbles forward. His foot catches the concrete rim that runs the perimeter of the roof and his knee buckles sending him toppling over the roof. The woman screams and scrambles toward him. She reaches her hand out over the roof in vain, but he is already beyond reach and speeding toward the asphalt below.

            Sirens blare as emergency vehicles make there way down ninth avenue toward the parking garage. A panicked caller explained to the 911 operator that he saw a man fall from the ninth avenue garage. Another caller was in hysterics after a man fell from the sky and almost landed on top of her. The police arrived and quickly secured the scene. “We got a name?” one of the officers ask.

“Michael Sorrows,” another answers, pulling out the victim’s license.

The first officer radios the name and details of the scene back to the station. A little while later they respond and inform him that Michael Sorrows recently left a hospital against medical advice, and before he could be questioned for a possible suicide attempt. Well that would certainly explain the situation, the officer thought.

Not a minute after the station responded, the radio crackles back to life. This time it is one of the other officers on the scene. “I’ve got another body on the roof.  A young woman.”

To be continued…

-AMS

The Witch's Curse Part Two

            When he finally gets to see the doctor that evening, he learns that he was found passed out from carbon monoxide poisoning. A young woman alerted emergency personal and delivered CPR until they arrived. She saved me? But why?

            “We’re going to have to keep an eye on you for a while longer,” the doctor explains. “Make sure there was no further damage from the lack of oxygen and ensure you’re breathing okay on your own, but I think you should make a full recovery. Hopefully we will have you out of here in the morning.”

            That night his eyes never leave the doorway. Looking for the girl. He knows she’s here somewhere. He hits the call button for the nurse a couple times when someone flies passed the door. A brief panic followed by the realization it is just a staff member with somewhere to be. Maybe he is paranoid. He battles sleep all night. Eventually, sleep wins, and he drifts off for an hour or so, only to jolt back awake. The fear of being unable to stay awake compounds his fear of the girl, and come morning, he is delusional from fear and exhaustion. He calls his nurse and tells her he needs to leave.

            “You haven’t been cleared by the doctor yet,” she tells him. “He’ll be around in about an hour to see if you’re fit to go.”

            “You can’t hold me here.”

            “We’re just trying to keep you safe dear.”

            “I understand the risk. I wish to leave.”

            “Frankly, sir, the doctor has some questions about how you ended up in that car in the first place.”

            Damn it. If they think it was a suicide attempt they’ll put me in a psych hospital until they’re convinced I’m not a threat to myself. “It was an accident. I was heading out to pick up a pizza, but when I tried to open the garage, the door was stuck. I was so preoccupied trying to get it to work, I didn’t even think to turn the engine off. Next thing I know, I’m waking up here.”

            “The doctor will be around in about an hour. You can explain the situation to him then, okay? Until then just try to relax. I’ll go get something to help calm you down.”

            A sedative. That’s no good. I need to get out of here. Play it cool. “Alright,” I say, “I’ll just wait for the doctor then.”

            “There you go. I’ll be right back, okay?”

            He nods, and the nurse walks out to get the sedative the doctor ordered if he became agitated or anxious. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten, then changes into is clothes and slips out of the room. He makes his way to the stairwell and quickly descends the stairs, ever vigilant for the girl, and now also hospital staff that might be looking for him. He makes it to the ground floor and calmly walks toward the door. As he does, an overhead speaker calls security to the third floor. He does not break stride and continues out the door.

            Out in the morning sun, he spies a bus pulling up to a nearby stop. He runs over waving at the driver not to drive off. He hops on, pays the fare, and takes a seat. He doesn’t know where this bus line goes, but at the moment he just needs distance between him and the hospital, and hopefully the girl as well, although he knows deep down, that is too much to ask for.

            He rides for a while and gets off downtown. As the bus pulls away from the stop, he catches sight of something. A tan Chevrolet that had been one car back from the bus. He looks on down the road where the car turns into a nearby parking garage. How!? How did she possibly find me? He never did see her at the hospital. She must have been waiting outside. Watching the doors, waiting for him to leave. Then when he got on the bus she just followed it here.

Seriously, does this girl having nothing else in her life but to stalk me? Why me? What did I do? What does she want? I think its about time I found out. A deep breath. Then another. And then he walks toward the parking garage.

To be continued…

-AMS