HAPPY DEATH DAY By: Jeffrey Conolly
Thursday, June 11th, 2009Kevin sat in seat 3B, trying to act inconspicuous. The sweat fell off his face in what felt like large pools. He wanted to try to dry his forehead with his sleeve, but he fought the urge.
It was best not to draw attention to himself.
They were watching.
They were always watching.
The bus trudged forward, carrying the general hum bum of people: nine to five businessmen on route home after a hard day’s work, and service workers, at the beginning of their day, iPods in their ears as they made their commute. There was even a mother and daughter sitting near Kevin, the daughter sucking on a lollipop, her mother talking about how they were on there way to pick up daddy.
It was Picking up Daddy Day.
They seemed innocent enough, but they could be one of them.
Kevin slunk down in his seat.
“You a fireman?”
Kevin jumped. His eyes searched for the quickest exit.
But it wasn’t one of them.
If it was, he’d be dead already.
“What?” he said.
“I asked if you were a fireman,” the man in glasses in 3E said. “The logo, there on your jacket, that means you’re a fireman, right?”
“Y…yes,” Kevin said, which was true, once.
He wasn’t really anything anymore but a holiday maker.
Happy Lie About Still Being a Fireman Day.
“That was some work you folks did in 9/11, I mean, probably not you specifically, I mean…maybe. Were you there?”
Kevin shook his head.
“Well, no, of course not, why would a Michigan fireman be in New York… but still, you must have been proud right?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I said you must have been proud,” the man in glasses yelled, “of the firefighters in New York!”
“Shhh!” scolded a mother in 2C, shooting a mean look backward. Her once sleeping baby cooed a little in her arms.
Happy Wake Up a Baby Day.
Kevin liked to make up holidays. It was as innocent as hobby as any, he thought, and it actually gave him quite a bit of joy. He’d even submitted some of his better ones to almanacs hoping to make them national, but none ever came to fruition. His best effort, National Seesaw Day had really positive reviews, but in the end, only rejection.
The man in glasses apologized to the mother and the bus moved onward. Kevin tried to keep on thinking about his holidays, and not about Them. Thinking about Them didn’t do him any good.
Able to resist no longer, he used his arm to wipe his brow.
“You OK, man?” the guy in glasses said.
“Y…yeah.”
“You look like the whole world is about to collapse on you.”
Happy Perceptive Stranger Day.
“I just have a lot on my mind.”
“I know that face!” The man in glasses produced a package of Tic Tacs and dumped three, head back, into his mouth. “That’s the ‘I owe somebody a lot of money’ face.”
Happy Extremely Perceptive Stranger Day.
“What is it, the mob? Drug lords?” He let out a shrill laugh, causing the mother of the baby to shoot another mean look. He mouthed sorry, then whispered, “I’m just joshing you, buddy. See, I had a bit of a gambling problem back in ’06, and I woke up and saw that face in the mirror every morning.”
Kevin smiled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Well, I have this dad, see. He is, like, wicked smart and he’s like an inventor.” Kevin looked carefully around him. “He invented a machine to go places, weird places, places that aren’t this world.”
The man in glasses grew weary of Kevin.
“It’s crazy, I know, but it’s true. He went there and he brought these things back, accidentally. They call themselves changelings and they can take any form and become, well, anything or anyone.”
The man in the glasses now was trying to pretend Kevin wasn’t there.
Kevin was crying now. The man in the glasses would hear what he had to say. Someone would hear it. All of it.
“They look just like normal people, but if you look closely, every once in a while their eyes flash green. They are killing and eating everybody. My dad had to go into hiding, because they want to use him. There are other worlds full of food, and they want him to take them there.”
The man in the glasses had enough. He stood and walked to the front of the bus and began talking to the bus driver.
Kevin continued to talk to no one.
“They gave me money, lots of money to lead them to him.”
Kevin began to laugh hysterically.
“Only I don’t have the slightest clue where he went. And now the money is gone, all of it. And they are coming, they are coming, they are coming.”
Kevin continued to laugh.
“Happy I’ve Lost My Mind Day, everybody. You know what I think? I think my dad killed himself, and we all should too! It’s better than being food for them! They are coming. They are coming for all of us. Happy They are Coming Day!”
Kevin hadn’t noticed the bus driver on the radio, but he did notice the bus stop, and the two police officers who were immediately let on.
The man in glasses pointed in his direction.
The cops walked in Kevin’s direction.
The cops smiled at him, and handcuffed his arms behind his back. Just before they drug him out of the bus, he noticed their eyes flash green.
“No! No! NO!”
His fighting was useless as they drug him off the bus and into a dark alley.
“Any last words?” One shrieked before they devoured him.
“Happy Death Day.”
—
©2009 Jeffrey Conolly
Jeffrey Conolly has been published in Macabre Cadaver and is soon to appear in Alien Skin Magazine. He is also the editor of the online horror magazine “The Daily Tourniquet.” To keep track of all things Jeffrey, visit his website at www.jeffreyconolly.com
