In The Moment By Scout Esparza

Old Man

        I'm on my morning run. The sun is beating down on my shoulders and I'm on the trail behind my neighborhood. Beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. It's eight in the morning. On my right there's woods and to my left is a bayou; the sky is cloudless.
        I'm only about five minutes in when I see a figure approaching. As I get closer I can make out their features. It's a man whose face is buried in wrinkles; he's relatively skinny. Despite the summer weather, he wears a black beanie, a long sleeve black and white shirt and black pants. He looks dirty. He's walking at a brisk pace and he's carrying a debarked stick. His yellowed eyes are examining me and this sends shivers down my spine. I'm not sure what it is about him but this man terrifies me. He gives off a haunting aura.
        We pass beside one another, going in opposite directions. Then I look back at him, he's looking back at me while still moving briskly. I look ahead of me now and pick up my pace.
        I continuously look behind me, afraid that he might be following me. No one is in sight. I continue on with my run down the usual path. To the bridge, take a break. Down the path further to the other bridge, take a break. Begun running back home.
        I am back in the area where I had first seen the old man. He's nowhere to be seen but I can still feel his presence. The woods are now to my left and as I walk quickly I peer in to try to make out anyone behind the foliage.
        I feel as if I'm being watched; the feeling grows stronger. I can't stand it any longer; I begin sprinting. But it's too late. The man is scrambling towards me from out of the woods. There's a look of insanity and hunger in his eyes. His hands are holding me hostage; I kick and attempt to move my arms but his grip is stone. I'm being dragged into the woods. And then I'm gone.