The Man on the Bridge - Short Story

The Man on the Bridge

Where am I? A bridge? What's happening? I feel a light tap on my shoulder. But when I turn, no one. Though, a man stands unnaturally still a few feet away with his back turned. He looks thin, the long navy coat he wears barely hanging onto his body. Suddenly, he turns to face me, his face is pale, his lips are thin, cracked, and black and his eyes are sunken deep into his skull. The sight is so inhuman, my stomach churns and a wave of nausea crashes over me. His mouth opens wide—too wide—and from it comes an unholy scream. The screeching sound rang through my head like a siren. It grows louder and louder with every passing second, so loud that I shut my eyes and cover my ears. 

When I open my eyes again, the man is gone. Or am I in a different location? A classroom. A large blackboard in the front of the room with an old man standing in front of it. My teacher. Around twenty students filled the seats, including me, watching every letter the teacher wrote on the board carefully. He stopped and turned his attention towards me. 

"Sleeping in class again, Mr. Parker?" he asks. 

I quickly spring up. I don't realize my head resting on the desk. "Of course not, I would never sleep in your class, sir." A lie, I can't remember a day I was awake in his class. 

His eyes narrow and I already know what's coming next. "Then let's see if you're really wide awake. Can you tell the class the answer to the question on the board?" He says, pointing at a complex equation written on the board. 

As I stare at the board, my mind goes completely blank. The letters seem to dance in front of me. 

After a few silent seconds, he sighs. "No answer? Well then I'll be happy to have you join me in detention after school." 

At the end of the day, I find myself back in the same classroom, surrounded by the delinquents of the school. The same old teacher sits at his desk, typing away on his computer. The humming of the fan on the ceiling is the only sound in the whole room. "This is boring," I say to myself.

To my right, three boys moved their desks to form a circle and are playing a very silent game of cards. Should I join? I have nothing to do anyways. No. I put my head down for a few seconds, praying that I somehow fall asleep. But after a few minutes laying perfectly still, it seems nearly impossible. Maybe I should play cards with them. However, when I lift my head, they're gone. And it's not just them—the old man and the rest of the students, all of them seem to have just disappeared. The classroom looks... different. A strange red glow coming from the windows fills the space and all the desks except mine disappeared along with the students. I turn to the clock. Did I fall asleep? No, it's only been three minutes. 

As I walk out of the classroom in confusion, I find myself on a path leading to a short bridge over a river. The sight is quite creepy. The sun is red, and the bridge has no lights. It looks like a scene from a horror movie. I try to turn, to run away, but no matter where I face, the bridge was in front of me. I have no other options. As I walk along the seemingly never-ending bridge, a feeling of familiarity comes over me. That's right! I've been here before. But something's different. 

I quickly turn around to see a man about to tap my shoulder. He looks shocked. His eyes wide and his mouth open. It's only for a second though. His mouth slowly curves to form a smile. It is scary—his lips are black, and he has little to no hair anywhere on his face. 

"Who are you?" I finally ask. 

He doesn't answer. Instead, he spins around and sprints down the length of the never-ending bridge with surprising speed—something I never would have guessed from his appearance. Without thinking, my body moves on its own, and I find myself chasing after him. 

As I chase him, the bridge feels endless, stretching farther than it has any right to. The river below seems to follow me, it's dark surface shimmering with faint ghastly shapes. Shadows moved within the deep, dark, murky water, almost like they're watching me. 

The man stops abruptly, standing perfectly still. As I get closer, I can hear him laughing. A creepy giggle that sounds like it's coming from a child. He turns his head without turning his body. Just staring at me with a sinister, black smile. I realize I've stopped running, my legs no longer moving, they couldn't move. Yet, somehow I keep getting closer, inch by inch, until he's standing right in front of me. 

"I am you," He finally says, holding the same smile and tilting his head slightly. 

I blink, and in an instant, I'm looking at myself, smiling. I look down at the clothes I'm wearing: a long blue coat. I have no hair on my head or face. The boy in front of me looks at me with a face of fear and disgust. Suddenly, I scream—a sound so deafening, I didn't know I could make it. I cover my ears and shut my eyes. But when I open them, he's gone. Everything is quiet. The river is calm again, and the bridge is still. I slowly look around I am alone. 

This is my life now.

Who am I?

I am the man on the bridge.