The day started out just like any other, an early morning walk followed by a quick breakfast, a hasty shower and dressing too fast to realize that I missed a belt loop and that my ‘junk’ was hanging out of my unzipped zipper, fortunately I realized the latter before I left. It had taken me a while to finally get the opportunity to check the pedometer I had bought yesterday during an impulse walk through of a RadioShack’s “going out of business” sale. The pedometer was made out of a cheap, red plastic and to be totally honest I am not sure what made me want to purchase it. Sure, it was only a dollar- but my phone can keep track of my steps for free. I suppose that’s why they call it an impulse buy; you don’t take the time to think any of it through and instead just act, but it was only a dollar and if it didn’t work then I wouldn’t have loss too much. The screen of the pedometer wasn’t backlit so it made checking it under the bright, morning, sun more of a task than I’d like it to be, but using the shadow of my apartment building I was able to make out the numbers 5-6-9-4. I squinted my eyes to be sure, my morning walk was nothing more than a block and I’d have to walk my apartment a hundred times over to get even half the number of steps this thing says I have taken. I flipped the little device over and managed to jam my fingernail into the miniscule sized reset button on the back of the device. I waited a moment, listening to the sounds of the city in the morning- car engines, loud exchanges at food stands, and the occasional grumble from someone not too eager to start out the week. The device had finished resetting and an abrupt beep the device made snatched my attention. To my dismay, the device displayed the same numbers still- I am not sure what I was expecting from a pedometer bought on sale at RadioShack, so I shoved the device into my pocket and continued on my way.

I went through my day as regular, the most exciting event being the time my office manager Angela broke her high heel and stumbled into the printer. I was never a big fan of Angela, and I was tired of her hitting on me every lunch break, so I got more amusement out of it than I should have. My work was several blocks from my house and I usually listened to music or a podcast, and I assumed today would be no different. I reached down into my pocket and felt around for my cell phone, but as I did my fingers grazed across the cheap plastic of the dollar pedometer I had purchased. I had grown oddly attached to the broken device and decided to give it another a glance, so I pulled out the device a bit too hastily. The pedometer was secured in my hand but my cell phone flung out of my pocket and came crashing down onto the black and grey pavement. My heart dropped as I watched my cell phone bounce, multiple times, against the pavement until it came to a stop with one final crash as loud as thunder and as trembling as an earthquake. I looked to the sky and moaned loudly, bracing myself for what I assumed would be a phone cracked beyond repair. When I looked down and began making my way over to my device, my eye had caught the pedometer once again. My brow furrowed as I stared at the little red pedometer, the screen wasn’t frozen on 5-6-9-4 anymore- but the device was definitely broken. Now it was projecting 1-3-7-0; for some reason the device removed steps instead of adding it- but I didn’t pay it much mind and I actually got a sense of enjoyment watching the device lower to 1-3-6-9 and then 1-3-6-8 as I walked over and grabbed my cellphone, or at least what was left of it. I turned around and began heading back to apartment but as I took the first step I saw the pedometer do something… odd. It started counting back up again with each step I took as I went towards my apartment. I was intrigued to say the least, so I decided to turn around once more and walk in the opposite direction of my apartment- and just as I thought it would, the device started counting down. What in the world was wrong with this device and why does it countdown when I walk away from my home, but count up as I walk towards it? I decided to break my mold; it wasn’t like I could listen to music tonight anyways- so I decided to let the pedometer be my guide- I was going to see how far I had to walk for it to say zero. At some point during my walk I made the connection that the steps weren’t tied to me walking towards or away from my apartment, but instead it was tied to something else entirely. I assumed the device was taking me back to RadioShack for whatever reason, but when I finally decided to break my gaze on the device I realized I was somewhere I shouldn’t be. The device was sitting at 5-0-3 but I knew, deep in my gut, that I was in danger. I wasn’t in the part of the city you saw in pamphlets and magazines- I was in the part of the city you saw on the news, and not for good reason. A stench struck my nose and I could feel the skin on my back start to crawl in disgust, trash littered the street and the buildings nearby were abandoned- either destroyed from a storm or left unfinished during construction. It was evident no one lived here, and it was evident nobody should be here. I reached to grab my phone and use the flashlight on it, but my fingers were stuck with small bits of broken glass from the shattered screen. I winced in pain and pulled my hand out of my pocket, my phone was unusable. Now was the time that someone with good judgement would have left, but unfortunately, my judgment was lacking. I held onto the pedometer like it was my lifeline, my knuckles turning white due to my vice grip on the device. I moved forward, faster now than I had before, and using the yellow street lights I was able to watch the step count lower until I reached an alleyway. The device said in broad- bold- font, 2-5. Whatever I had walked all this way for was right in front me of, standing- sitting- just existing in the darkness of the alley in front of me. I stared into the darkness, my bones shivered with fear and my teeth rattled. I took one step forward and the darkness of the alley now casted onto my worn-leather shoes. 2-4; I froze. I found myself unable to move and my heart began pounding in my chest as adrenaline surged through my body, I wanted to move- but I couldn’t. I simply stared at the device for what could have been hours; I wanted to leave- I wanted to go home now, and using every ounce of power in my body I pivoted and turned away from the darkness and faced the path home. I stared down at the pedometer as it still read 2-4, and a smile of relief broke across my face. I looked up for a moment to the nearest light pole, I forgot how comforting the light could be. I looked back down and the device read a new number- 1. I felt something breathe on my neck.

I was walking around a RadioShack, the going out of business signs drew my attention. I flipped my long, highlighted, blonde hair off my shoulder and saw a small, red, pedometer sitting on a table with small devices and trinkets. It had a price tag for a dollar and I really needed to start working out, plus the thing had a weird sense of charm, so I decided to grab the device and head to the register. “Cash or card, ma’am?”