Chasing Golden

Home sweet home!

The sky was pitch black, and aside from my black and red hoodie, there was no color at all. As I made my way down the street, the number of cars on each side seemed to decrease. The apartment buildings on each side of me loomed overhead, and it felt like I was being watched from every window there. There were no lights on, but the street lights flickered on and off as if they didn't know if they wanted to be functional.

Just as it had been time and time again.

I don't even remember how many times I've been killed by now. I've lost my track of time, seeing as every time I wake up, it's 11:26.

11:26.

There had to be some significance to that number. What it was or how I find out what it is, I couldn't tell you.

As I walked down the street, I couldn't help but think about when the man would show up and kill me again.

4 minutes and thirteen seconds.

That's how long it takes after each iteration for him to show up. So far I've engraved that number into my head. I can feel when that amount of time goes by without even having to count.

After he shows up, he sits there, looking at me, as if he's giving me time to do something. Then, after thirty-seven seconds, I die, and the cycle repeats.

This is how I've been living my life since that moment.

I walked over to the alley again, waiting for my eventual fate. I know what you're thinking. Why come here if it's the same place I've been getting killed this whole time? Maybe THIS place is the entire reason I'm being killed.

I'm afraid that's not how it works.

I've tried everything. I've tried to run in an entirely new direction. no matter where I go, he always seems to find me. It's like I have a tracking device on me that he can follow down to the T.

I heard footsteps behind me. I don't know how I didn't hear the footsteps before, maybe because they were being muffled by the snow. I turned around and there he was, like expected.

"You know," I said. "You're not as scary after a few hundred times in a row."

I sat down in the snow. At this point, the snow was the least of my worries. He walked towards me, and put his gun down in the snow.

"You know," he said. This is the first time I've heard him speak. "That's a real nice highlight you got going on. I do that?"

He ran his hand through the hair on my forehead. It had turned white, I'm guessing from stress. Of course, me being the completely logical person I am, I grabbed the gun, and pointed it at his face.

"Back off," I said to him. "Or you'll be eating a face full of magical lead."

"Ooh," he said. "Scary."

I shot at him. My aim was a little off, and I'm guessing I hit him on his cheek. His head flicked back, and I took this chance to just take off running down the alley. I don't know why I thought this, but my house was only a little farther ahead. Maybe if I got there, I would be safe?

It was certainly a stretch to think that.

I made the one mistake you're not supposed to make when running; looking back. He was right behind me, but I didn't even hear him run up. Even the snow couldn't muffle his big footsteps even if he had ran. I was already halfway to my house when I decided to check my phone, something I hadn't done since the first iteration.

11:31

Six minutes had passed. Six. That had to be impossible. No more than five minutes had been passed the other iterations since the very first one. I had a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe I would make it out.

But then I didn't.

I felt a logging pain in my back, the exact same pain I had every time he shot me. No matter how nonchalant I wanted to sound, this pain always put me in my place. How could he tank this gunshot so easily? How did he even get another one?

"You had a good run there buddy," he said to me. He took his hand and patted my back, on the exact same spot. "Looks like you've found a nice surprise."

I was too delirious to say anything. I just stared at him, and I'm sure he could sense the disdain in my face. My vision got blurry, and everything started to feel cold, and then I blacked out again.

"Time for another one," I said to myself. "We might as well be hyped for it."

I pulled out my phone, just to see what time it was. I should have known in the back of my mind.

11:31

What?

How it it still 11:31?

I looked around, and sure enough, I wasn't in the same area I was when I usually woke up. I'm still halfway to my house. I took off running down the street, tempted to make it too my house. I wasn't going to give him anytime to stop me.

I made it to the steps of my house. It had been so long that I almost forgot my address. I made my way, when I tripped on something. I got up,  turned around, and sat on the very top stair.

It was him. He inched closer to me, and I inched back until we were eventually right on top of the door. He reached forward, but instead of grabbing me, he grabbed the doorknob. The door swung open, and before I turned around to comprehend what happened, he vanished.

I ran in the house as fast as I could, forgetting to close the door. I took off running up the stairs and slammed the door open to my moms room.

"Ren," she yelled. "Why are you getting home so late? You know what I sai-"

I interrupted her with a huge hug. I broke down crying in front of her, and I'm sure that she was extremely confused.

We just sat the in silence like that, for minutes. Then, she pulled me away.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened?" She asked.

"Even if I did, you wouldn't believe me."

"I'll believe anything you say. We're gonna have to do something about this hair that you've dyed though."

She brushed her hair through the right streak of hair on my head now.

"There's a good explanation for that," I said.

"And I'm sure that there is, but now you need to get some sleep. I think it's been a long day."

I couldn't tell you how long I've waited to hear those words. I walked back over to my room, took my stuff and and just collapsed in bed. Being able to sleep again, and I mean TRULY sleep, not just black out from being killed multiple times, I was ecstatic. I fell asleep right then and there, even though I was still a little skeptical about everything that happened.