The room was orange. Orange painted walls with brown trim. The carpet was green, maybe with some yellow in it. None of that was important. The important part was what couldn’t be seen. She felt it watching. She thought she could hear it whisper. But she never saw it. No matter how quickly she turned, she always seemed to be too slow. She could spin in circles and never see it. But she was never alone in that room. She—

Sherry’s eyes fluttered open. Her gaze focused on the white walls of her bedroom, bringing her back to the here and now. White, quiet and alone. She hadn’t thought about the orange room in a very long time. “Glad I don’t remember the dream that triggered that memory.”

She rolled out of bed. Her mattresses had always rested on the floor; ever since she’d been able to convince her parents she didn’t need a bed frame. (Nothing can hide under a bed with no ‘under’.) She stretched as she stood, leaving the blankets and stuffed animals in a pile behind her.

Breakfast, shower, clothes…the whole time she went through her daily routine her thoughts kept returning to the orange room, no matter how hard she tried to think of other things. It had been the extra room of a house she’d lived in as a child. Connected to the main living area and she’d been expected to play in it, but she’d never wanted to. It just…she’d never felt alone. It was (as far as she knew) her first experience with such things. But it was far from the last.

There had been the thing under the guest bed at Grandma’s, the darkness in the woods on the family camping trip, and any number of other shadowed places she’d been and seen. Her parents had always shushed her and tried to smooth it over. “No, honey, there’s nothing there” or “Don’t worry, it’s just a shadow,” and other useless words. Sherry knew. Some places just had…something that the rest of the world didn’t. Something terrifying. Something that other people didn’t seem to notice. Something they didn’t want to notice. Even after she'd "grown up", something lurked in the shadows.

“That or I’m crazy,” she muttered as she grabbed her keys. Perhaps I am...

After making sure to leave the hall light on, she ran out the door, pausing only to lock it.

***

Work that day had been normal. Slow, but it was the middle of the week so that wasn’t unusual. Mostly it was the usual customers. Mr. Flannell at table four with his coffee and toast to accompany his book. Miss Stevens had been in for her biweekly ‘after school slice of cake’. Today it had been chocolate. The Merry family was in the corner booth-it was meatloaf night after all. One or two other customers around, but the restaurant was mostly bare. Normal for a Wednesday. Nice, usual and comforting. Which is good today, she thought.

“One coffee at table eight,” the hostess said as she came back to the station.

“On it!"

New customers were in no way unusual. In fact, she wouldn't have noticed anything out of the ordinary if the customer hadn't started the conversation. Sure, they were staring out the window and into the night. Sure, they didn’t really touch their coffee. That wasn’t too strange. Folks sometimes came in to sit and think. No, this customer was different. It was what they said. What they said changed Sherry's world.

“What’s your take on that alley over there?” Sherry hadn’t even had time to say, ‘Hello.’

“Hm?” she followed the customer’s gaze out the window. They were staring into the night, and across the street. The alley across the street… “That alley?” She set the cup of coffee on the table. She’d never liked they alley-way, honestly. Some days were worse than others, but it was always like…like that room in her childhood home. “I don’t really know. I never go over that way.”

“Why?” the customer asked.

Sherry’s eyes moved to the customer. She’d learned long ago that people thought her take on certain things was strange and crazy. It was usually best to keep it to herself. Sherry looked at the alley again. It wasn't a huge inconvenience to avoid the alley, but she did avoid it. Like so many other dark places. "I just don't need to go that way."

"We both know that's not the reason.” Sherry’s eyes flew back to the customer. “Would you like to know what's really waiting in that darkness?"

"I...What?" She stared. She did want to know....but a large part of her didn’t want to know. It had always been easy to say that the something lurking in the shadows was in her imagination. Easy to say she was irrationally afraid of the dark. But deep down, she always knew it wasn't all in her head.

She looked at the strange person sitting before her. Something about them, the tone of their voice, the intensity of their stare, their whole aura seemed to say that this was her chance to find out the truth.
“I…I would like to know.”

***

The strange customer came back several times after that. Always on a slow night, always seated in her section and they always ordered a cup of coffee. More importantly, they would always talk. Sherry would spend her breaks asking questions and thinking of more.

One evening, the stranger made an offer. An offer to change her life, to become something more. She could do something, something only a few could do.

Sherry said she wasn’t sure. The stranger told her to think about it, so she did.

She was comfortable in her life, she was happy (wasn’t she?). She knew where she was in life. Sherry had never been one to take the big risks. She might not have known exactly what the stranger wanted her to agree to, but she knew it was something big. Was it something she really could do? Should do? Though the dark spaces frightened her a bit more than they had before (there was something there after all) it didn’t change too much, right? Everything else was still normal, wasn’t it? No, it's not.

This was her chance to do something about that thing in the darkness. This was her chance to be great! She had always been regretful of the fact that she let life go by. She had always said that the next time she would take that less-traveled road. Next time. Always the “next time.” While she cleaned up for the evening, she realized that “next time” was here. The less-traveled road was staring right at her. It was just as frightening as those dark places in the world.

She was still deep in thought as she wandered home. The night was warm, the moon hung brightly in the sky. All in all it was a pleasant night. Pleasant as it can be, I suppose. She rounded a corner, and came to a dead stop. Crying. A child was crying. As she turned to see where the sound was coming from she saw a light come on. A bedroom in the house she was standing next to. The window had been left open a bit to let in the breeze.

“Momma!” The child’s voice. “There’s something in the closet, Momma!!”
Sherry listened as the sound of the mother’s voice floated through the window. She couldn’t hear the words, but she knew what they were. “No, honey, there’s nothing there” or “Don’t worry, it’s just a closet” or some other soothing nonsense.

She doesn’t know any better. I do. I always did. Sherry turned and quickly walked towards home.

***

The customer didn’t come back for a few nights. When they finally did, Sherry took their coffee to them before they even ordered it.

“Yes,” was all she said as she set the mug down.

"Glad to hear it."

Sherry Greyson was ready. This was what she'd been waiting for. This was 'next time'. That less-traveled road staring back at her, she was about to go down it. Because there is something in that darkness.