The Many Faces of My Father

Part 2

Glasgow is a city that never sleeps. When darkness comes, it doesn’t quieten down. It gets louder and faster and there are thousands of noises to be heard and sights to be seen. It’s not the sort of the place you want to be walking around at night. But, drastic times call for drastic measures.

            I haven’t been paying attention to where my legs are taking me. As I look around, all I can see are big, ugly grey buildings and in the doorway of each one, a dirty figure with matted hair and ragged clothes. I start to walk a little faster and as I turn a corner, I can feel something, someone watching me. I come to a stop and see yet another bedraggled man huddled on a doorstep. He’s like every other homeless person. But, as I turn to him his lips stretch apart revealing a set of perfect white teeth that appear to give off an unearthly glow. I blink and he vanishes completely.

            A shiver runs up my spine, exactly like the one I had earlier today.

            I break into a sprint and run for my life.

            I run and I run. When I feel like I can’t take another step, I sit down with my back to someone’s front door and try to wrap my head around what just happened.

            Why did a homeless man have perfect teeth?

            Why was his smile the same as the doctor’s?

            Why did they both make my spine shiver?

            I think about this for hours and when I finally fall asleep I have the answer:

            They are the same man.

            I wake up from a dreamless sleep feeling cold and disturbed. The sky is a mixture of pale yellow, pink and blue. My watch says it’s almost four in the morning.

Then I notice him.

He’s standing a few metres away, smiling that perfect, evil smile. And he’s got a knife.

I close my eyes, but this time he doesn’t go away. He just stands there, staring and smiling.

Am I going insane? I think to myself.

“What do you want?” I ask him, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You, Lucy,” he whispers taking a step forward.

“Go away!” I shout back.

He takes another step.

“Help!” I scream, knowing no one will hear me. I try again, but no sound comes out. I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile gets bigger.

I hear the welcome sound of footsteps and it’s my turn to smile.

“I want you Lucy,” he says, smile fading. “So I will have you. This isn’t over.” With that, he disappears. I blink a few times, not quite believing what I just saw.

A girl about my age runs over. She has a kind face and looks worried.

“Are you ok?” she asks. “I heard someone shouting.”

“Thank you,” I say. “I think you just saved my life.”

“Saved your life?” she repeats, puzzled. “I don’t think so! My name’s Jazz by the way.”

“I’m Lucy,” I say. Her face turns from concerned to scared and she begins to back away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I swear your hair just changed colour,” she says, eyes wide.

“It’s… just… just the light,” I say, pointing to the sun rising over a block of flats. “It has a weird effect on my hair.”