The Magnet

A jog in the park.

So Dr. Kinkaid recommended a morning jog to vent the pent-up energy and clear my mind. Considering what happened during the appointment I am not entirely sure how sound her advice is, but I'm afraid if I go to another shrink he would go straight to lobotomy, so I'm willing to take my chances with her.

I had been doing it for a couple of weeks already, always taking a route that got me deep into the woods of the city park, away from people. And it seemed to be working, to my surprise. Not only it gave me time to organize my thoughts, it was a perfect way to spend two hours away from home, away from Mom and all the craziness.

Until I noticed my stalker.

It was a Thursday morning and I had been lightly jogging for about ten minutes already, when I realized I was being followed. A person in baggy sweatpants and an oversized gray hoodie, with the hood pulled over the head and the brim of a baseball cap sticking out from under it, had been keeping my pace for a while, staying at a constant distance. The hoodie and cap cast the person's face in complete darkness, and the hands in the hoodie's pockets surely concealed a knife or a rope or something.

Great, I thought, now they are going to make a show about me in Investigation Discovery.

I continued my usual route throught the park's paved pathways, not to give away the fact that I had already noticed my stalker, but when I was in the pathway throught the woods I took a sudden right turn that got me deep into the thick of it, up a small hill. A series of big boulders were laying at the top of the hill, left over from a renovation that was never completed. The vegetation had claimed them already, growing moss on their surface and patches of grass in the cracks, and giving me a perfect vantage point to see my stalker's movements without beeing seen myself.

From my spot behind the boulders I could see Hoodie Guy hurriedly running through the woods in a zig zag pattern, frantically looking left and right and apparently swearing. Good, I lost him, I though, and considered going down the other side of the hill, but then I thought that if I just left I would have to deal with this bullshit the next day, and the day after, and the day after that, and I did not want my only moment of peace to be ruined by this asshole. And I figured it was a perfect opportunity to work out my "issues" in a different way. So I waited until I saw him walk past the boulder line, still looking left and right but with a lot less enthusiasm, and tackled him.

Have I mentioned that I tend to overthink stuff? Well, sometimes I kind of do the opposite.

My cowboy move sent us both rolling down the steepest side of the hill's slopes, into a sunk in area that is seldom visited by anything other than stray dogs.

In other words, the perfect spot for bloody murder.

When we stopped rolling, I quickly stood up best I could, hoping to be less out of balance than him, I grabbed him by the hoodie and slammed him against the hill's slope.
-Please don't hurt me!- he said, raising his surprisingly tiny hands.
-And what were YOU planning to do to ME, motherfucker?- I asked, with my trembling fist ready to punch his teeth out.
-I... I don't know- said the stalker, lowering the hood and removing the baseball cap, revealing a head full of unruly blonde hair and a pair of huge green eyes.- I guess I didn't think that part through.

-Francesca?

I let go of her and sat on the grass, facing the woods. She sat too and we were silent for what seemed like forever.

-I haven't seen you since high school- I said, stating the obvious- Why were you following me?

-I heard the news about your dad and then started seeing you jogging when I took my morning run. But I wasn't sure if it was actually you. You were never the sporty guy. I had to get close to make sure who you were, but I wasn't expecting you to react like that.