Monsters

By James Noguera

Jonah doesn’t know how it began. All she knows is they're after her. Nobody believes her though, or admits it. People say she’s crazy. But every day she's attacked, she says. When she goes out, people smoke. When she rides the bus, people smell of cigarettes. Cars wait for her and expel exhaust. And she's made to look like a sexual predator. All she wants is for it to stop. So she can live.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Noguera
• Release date: Jan 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310206153

James Noguera

James Noguera has published fiction online in such magazines as The WiFiles, The World of Myth, SNReview, and The Piker Press. He has two ebooks out, Remember Me like This (2013), a poetry chapbook, and Language Learning for Free (2015), a short resource for language learning without spending any money. He lives in the Bronx with his cat.

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MONSTERS

JAMES NOGUERA

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2016 James Noguera

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover image credit: Oleg Zhilko

ISBN: 9781310206153

Contents

Acknowledgments

Dedication

Epigraph

Prologue

Monsters

Epilogue

About the Author

Social Media

More by the Author

Acknowledgments

This book began as an experiment for a course titled Narrative Structure at City College of New York during Spring 2012. The first draft wasn’t very good; I had yet to find my story. The students, nevertheless, endeavored to give me their constructive experience of my narrative. Give me breadcrumbs, was an early criticism I took to heart. Next, the book followed me into a novel writing workshop. Students sat through two drafts, each not too dissimilar, and tried to provide useful feedback for my ambitious project. Without them, I doubt I would’ve had enough outside perspective to read my story as unfriendly to readers as it was.

Especially deserving in praise for this book is my thesis mentor, Linsey Abrams. She taught both the aforementioned courses and guided me throughout the creation of this work from burgeoning idea to an actual, if rough, narrative. (She oversaw the completion of my third draft, when I feel I’d found my story; I ended up doing about nine drafts.) She has undoubtedly shaped this tale, which hasn’t been the easiest for me to tell. However, as it is with superb teachers, she did not do so through forceful or intrusive means; she led me to water, and I chose to drink.

To Mom

"Delight is to him whose strong arms yet support him,

when the ship of this base treacherous world has gone down beneath him."

Herman Melville, Moby-Dick

Prologue

I don't know how it began. All I know is smoke.

I'm walking in the street, somewhere in the middle of Manhattan, in the middle of the day, the sun washing everything in yellow awareness. I search for subway stations but can't find any. Want to hide. Yet no one is looking. People walk and talk. Almost normal. Only, I don't trust normal. I've almost forgotten normal. I almost don't want normal. But plumes of smoke erupting somewhere in crowds bring me back. I cross the street.

They leer at me as I pass, craving my eyes, something, anything from me. They get the top of my head, then my back. Someone ahead: one side to me, the other to obscurity. Luckily, where there's fire, there's smoke. I cross again.

They're ready for me now, garrisoning spots along the street. Their street. I just tread on it. I think about hiding inside a building or shop. But why? They'd just be there when I come out. They're always there when I come out.

I cross again and again, evading the coughing clouds, the smoke-choked blocks. When they take the sidewalks, I go for the street, watching out for the cars. Wonder which is better.

I have to keep walking.

All I want to do is breathe. Only, I'm underwater. I know because I can see the blue ceiling, the sun glistening though distorted. I don't know how I got myself here, but it seems to make sense. Perhaps I wouldn't mind so much if I didn't have to breathe. But as I do, I have to go for the surface. It's my only thought. I try to swim up to it, yet I'm weighed down by something. I can only get so close.

I make serious efforts for the surface. But it's always just out of reach. My body hungers for breath. I can only make one more attempt. I thrust, an underwater jump, toward the surface. I get close - inches away - but away still.

I inhale water. It's an odd, discomforting feeling. Still, I'm not dead. Though I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to be able to breathe underwater or not. The breaths are shallow and inconsistent. Yet I keep breathing, keep striving for the surface: swimming, swimming.

I hide to protect myself. I'm inside a building I've known since childhood, where my earliest memories were formed, familiar ground, a small advantage over them. I've come back, though not as I was. I wonder if I did something wrong or if something wrong happened to me. I wait inside the first floor lobby, hoping I've done enough to lose them. It isn't long before I find out: a smoker inside the building. They're usually not so blatant. The narrow white halls force me to walk past him to get to the other side. He throws his cigarette ahead of me as I pass. Around a corner there's another smoker. He too jettisons his cigarette at me. I go for the stairs, but there: another smoker. This is going to be a bad day.

I'm thinking about fleeing the building, hiding somewhere else when I hear them outside: the monotone of a megaphone, telling me to get out. Everything in me resists. I race to the back of the building where there's a door that leads into an alley. But as I make it out and move toward the street, I hear their radios approaching. I turn around and run back inside. The building looks like its on fire with all the smoke. Whatever