You are leaving school, you are walking home in the rain alone because today is a sad day. Today is the day that your family died. You live alone and dine alone. The world is rather dreary. After being alone for three years of your life though, you learn what being with people feels like, even when they don’t want to be detected. You can feel the presence of someone following you.
Your first thought is maybe they are just walking along, but when you pass a mirror and you only see yourself and someone in the background peeking around a corner on as you go, you feel a chill up your spine, but you don’t speed up, superfluous actions aren’t needed in this situation. You are a few miles from your house but you reach for the knife in your pocket, a trinket you deemed necessary after being mugged on the side of the road. Your hair falls in front of your eyes as your adrenalin flows.
Your thoughts move to earlier in the day when you were alone finishing your work for chemistry sitting in the classroom thinking about who would want you dead and this seems ironic. You remember more than that though. You think further back than that; you think back to before the accident. It was your fault, you were running away and everyone was looking for you, all of them were out in the snow in their cars, frantic. They were looking for you because you took something too far. You could never take a joke, but when they rearranged your room, they went too far. You packed up your stuff and walked out angry, the last words you told them were words of hate.
The memory recedes as you pace past a pungent odor. The McDonalds food makes your stomach churn. You have your knife unfolded in your pocket now, the blade unnoticed by your pursuer, or if they know they don’t seem to mind. The rain patters around you and in the distance thunder rolls out from the clouds grumbling its discontent. The water has soaked through your clothes already and you have some time to go. Another three miles to your run-down shack; you can almost see the puddles from the leaky roof you haven’t fixed.
You turn down the road that leads to yours. It’s a solemn side road with some stuck up people on it. They have their big houses, and their whole families, and their cars, and bikes… You feel the hate welling up inside you, their kids all make fun of you, because you live alone, you have a bad looking house, no internet, no TV, you just paint and draw to occupy the time. You can’t afford more than you have because you can’t afford the time for a job. You have to get your school work done.
You feel the presence now, further away, but still there, hungrily looking at you, noting everything you do, all of your movements… They are becoming wearier of themselves because you aren’t in town anymore, and people seldom walk here. You can feel them weaving in the dark of the roads behind you. The sky has been getting darker as you walk, and you can feel the thunder now. You see lightning flash and light the skyline like a supernova. It streaks across the sky and shortly after the thunder yells its defiance at the pursuer.
You are turning down your road now. The gravel beneath your feet marks it. The sign was hit by a truck… the night you ran away. They smashed into it and then the tree behind it. They thought they saw you, hiding in the snow from them so they slammed on their breaks and couldn’t stop in the weather.
You still have a mile to go but its pouring now, the rain has you soaked, but you don’t care, the person following you is closer now, you can tell. You can feel them sneaking closer; they are in the woods by the road, stalking you. The wind gusts and it feels like their cold breath on your neck. You feel a bit scared now, like they made it rain on today, specifically so they could get to you.
They don’t know that you realize you are being followed. You know. You can hear their breathing. The splashing of rain mixes with it so it fades out but you can hear it. You can see your house now, the wooden sides, the mossy roof, the shades drawn, the dark air about it…
You are only a few hundred feet from it. You have the key in your hand, and ready. You know they might catch you but you make a sprint for it, the mud is slippery, like the snow was all those years ago, your feet grip it though. You are at your door and have the key in, you can hear their footsteps behind you, but you can’t tell how far. You turn the knob and rush in locking the door behind you and look into your yard with your knife out, and there they are, a shadowy thing, lurking on the edge of your yard.
Without looking away you grab your sword off the mantle and its sheath and change into darker clothes. You can’t recall where it popped in your head, but you are going to follow them. The figure disappears. But on your one way road there’s only one way to go. You go out your back door making sure to be quiet, locking it behind you and staying on the edge of your yard into the woods you go and you can see the figure stalking away.
“I see you.” You say under your breath moving closer to get a better look at the person from the depths of the woods. You see now that this man is all in black. He is walking fast but you know the woods so you can keep pace and not make a noise over the din of the storm that is rocking the woods around you. You can feel your adrenalin raging as you study his movements, careful and measured, he is walking like he knows where he is going and he hasn’t noticed you yet.
Your breath is steady and you are a shadow in the dark, a breeze in the gale; Unnoticed. You mimic the rocking of the trees with your movements, you follow him down the road until he turns, then you keep your distance through the town, you are sweating and soaked as you move in the alleyways, you see him glance behind him but you aren’t behind him now, you are next to him, above him, in front of him, surrounding him. You are like the air he breathes, invisible, everywhere, and cunning. You follow him out of the town and down a side road you don’t know and you get closer.
You can see the worry on his face as he looks around, but you are never where his green eyes look. You see how he moves faster down the road, he can sense you but he can’t see you. He bites his lip nervously and you feel your face contort into a grin. You move in the shadows more and then lightning flashes behind you casting your shadow in front of him. Large and ominous evil looking and he sees it. He walks faster, almost a jog. You match the pace easily.
He turns down another road and it’s more secluded. You can sense his urgency. He doesn’t like being followed like he followed you. You smile to yourself and move faster. You see his destination. You can see his house. You move ahead of him and go up to the house hiding in the bushes. You have yourself ready, he sprints, like you did, but he doesn’t hear your footsteps behind him, no he hears only the rain. He makes it to his door and unlocks it and runs inside, you can hear him yelping in fear. You move to a side window of the unlit house and push up. As it opens you hear him rummaging through his things, looking for something.
You climb in the window and shut it quietly; you stalk through the man’s house silently. He is still panting and rummaging through a closet when you come up behind him and pull your sword and whisper.
“What are you looking for?” You have the sword pointed at him as he jolts upright and spins around to see the sword pointing at him and his face is pure horror.
“W-wh-who are you?” He stammers out his voice shaking as you cock your head to the side.
“Only the person you followed home! Don’t like it happening to you do you!” You yell at him your shaking and your hand is trembling.
“I-“ You cut him off.
“Just wanted to follow the sad poor kid?!” You are raging now, you can feel your hands shaking as you slash at him, cutting him across the cheek and making him yelp.
“I’m sorry!” He is on his knees now looking so pitiful he is bleeding on his white carpet.
“You will never do that again!” You yell and cut at him again he tries to block with his arm but losses that in the process and as he screams on the floor flailing around you smile and step on him, pushing him to the ground and pointing your bloody blade at his neck.
“Why did you do it?” You demand, but he wails in pain and fear. “Tell me!” you kick his ribs.
“I wanted to-“ Your sward cuts him off literally as you stab it through his stomach and then his trachea. The gurgling he makes as he tries to breathe is almost as sickening as the noise the blade makes coming out. Looking close you realize who you have just killed… you stop and stare blankly. It hits you like a ton of bricks. You just killed your father’s friend. The man who used to check on you; he used to take care of you. You stand there and cry. Your stupidity hits you and you run. Because that’s all that’s left for you: to run.
