For some unknown reason, an ominous, dark, and unbearable feeling of dread makes the judgment of my instinct believe the stranger is looking directly at me; sending signals that makes me feel anything but calm. Odd but I kept walking anyway; maybe he stopped to look at his phone or something. Whatever his reason might be my guess must've been wrong because I can hear his footsteps once again.. and from the sound of it, he's walking towards me.

I looked briefly behind me. I am not reassured to say my guess is correct. That man is upon me. Though his movement is slow I have this odd feeling he would catch up soon nonetheless. It's a bizarre phenomenon. I'm certain by the sound of the sole of his shoes hitting the cold, concrete ground that he is walking at a ridiculously slow pace. I'm certain he's after me for some reason. I am certain although I shouldn't be. I'm certain, damn it, I'm sure. I'm not in direct contact with him but the sound of his footsteps resonates in a five-second interval at a minimum. However, the way the sound grows louder and louder towards my direction tells only one thing. The distance between that man and I also grow nearer and nearer in an equally troubling haste. He's walking so slow. He only takes a step every few seconds. Yet every time I look back at him he gets closer.

I peeked behind my back.

He's still.

I looked in front of me once again.

He took a step.

I took another peek at him.

What's this? He's like, just seven steps away from me.

I walked a bit faster.

He took another step.

I looked back once again.

He's only three steps away from me.

I shrieked at the sight of his stillness. I do not know why but I have a feeling that... perhaps its human instinct but...

That man is going to kill me.

I can feel my heart punch my chest as the hair on my skin rises along the way my mind paces different sort of endings for this night if he manages to catch me. All of this ignites the fear in me burning with an immense power it feels like my inner demons are committing arson in my heart.

The streets are dark. The lights are all off. The air is still. And there is a man following me; I can only come up with one conclusion.

He's going to kill me.

I don't know who he is or at least I think I don't; with his gray hoodie covering a majority of his head and his upper body, there's no certainty if I even find him familiar at all. The man seems to cover the entirety of his body. Perhaps, his hands reveal a bit of his skin but I can't be too sure about that as well since he places them both inside the pockets of his black jeans. With clothes as plain as those with such ambiguous features, he could be anybody in this world! But whoever he is, he made a disconcerting choice for his detour.

Panic sets in, my heart beats so fast I can feel it drill a hole through my ribcage. Thus, I hasten my pace, looking behind me as the speed of my feet matches with the beating of my heart. If I make myself faster than this I'd be running but with the speed of how I walk, you might as well call what I'm doing a badly executed jog.

My obvious caution of the man might have alarmed him for it made whatever this man's actions a lot more uncanny. He is walking as slowly as he did when I first laid my eyes on him but the space between us got no farther than when he has been ambling towards me. It feels as if he's getting closer. I see him as I took a quick timid peek behind me. The movement of his feet suggested his speed did not and should now increase at all but as I move faster so did he.

I ran. Fast. Faster than I could, faster than how fast my day has escalated.

Yet he never left my sight. I tried running faster until my lungs beg me to take a break by giving me ragged breaths. However, my pursuer gains the same speed as well but the slow movement of his steps did not change. He doesn't seem to give even a portion of effort in chasing after me at all. The way he was the first time I saw him is the same as he looks now; while I'm desperately trying to escape my imminent death, he's not bothered at all, he's not sweating, not gasping for air, he hasn't even removed his hands from the pockets of his jeans. And even after I turned to different streets, traversed through different intersections, or crossed neighborhoods I've never seen before he's still tailing me with the same supernatural capabilities he's wonderfully pulling off.

But hope has come and it cannot have any better timing than this. My apartment, I can see it right in front of me! I'm here, I'm home; the light of the building radiates and I can finally escape a seemingly endless chase with the avatar of darkness itself in its domain! My face beamed as I took one last look at the man earnestly playing tag with me. When I turned my head around to taunt him somehow, I felt every cell on my body jump and crawl before I could even judge what I'm seeing.

The stranger's face is a few centimeters away from my shoulders.

For a brief second, a second alone is enough, my brain gave myself enough adrenaline to engrave a few highlights of the stranger's face deep into the crevices of my memories. His hoodie covers and darkens a huge portion of his face, but I'm unfortunate enough to see the lower part of his face thus it is the first thing I noticed. His chapped lips looked as if the man bruised them intentionally. His deranged grin put emphasis on his decayed mouth and his teeth blackened and yellowed by ancient garbage he has thrust into his chops.

I screamed as I lunge myself away from him, trying to dodge whatever he's been planning with his face. I landed on the ground, back first, and crawled my way out of him while slowly trying to compose myself. The heaviness of my breathing and the swirling confusion invading my brain did not stop the continuous vigor in my blood in my attempt to stand up. And when I'm finally running with my own two feet I felt no fatigue but a sudden burst of ceaseless energy.

I clenched my chest with my right hand, the other hiding and securing my handbag between my arms. What does he want from me? Is he a thief? Perhaps a rapist? Or is he after my blood? Why is this happening? Why now? Why can't I have peace of mind after this undeserved torturous day!?

"Leave me alone!" I shouted as a flurry of emotions ran right through me.

I'm here! I'm in the apartment building! I'm safe! I'm pushed through the entrance and ran as fast as I can towards the elevator; the sound of my heels hitting the hard tiles of the apartment lobby resounded all over the empty floor. I pushed the elevator button as fast as I can, afraid to look back, afraid to see the man's face once again, afraid of everything and anything around me.

The elevator door opened. Oh, thank the gods in heaven, the elevator opened, I wouldn't know what I'd do if the darn thing won't work. I went inside and you best believe I went inside with haste faster than any living human being could pull off. I pushed myself to the wall as I await the door in front of me shut. And there, I saw him. Standing outside of the apartment building, the crazy bastard is staring right at me and for a moment, we've looked at each other eye to eye I can feel the essence of his soul deep into me.

And then he pushed the door open but the elevator door has not closed yet. It seems the elevator is not closing at all. I pushed every button I can see inside in an irrational attempt to break our distance once and for all.

And then he ran. He ran. He ran.

He's running towards me!

I shouted like a lamb in the presence of the wolves' alpha. I am a slave to this man running full speed towards me. And as he is about a few meters away from the elevator my feet gave up on me as I try so hard to push my back towards the wall, a vain attempt to escape. My entire body is shaking and I can feel my body failing me. I slowly slid myself down to the ground as I screamed and wept while uttering inaudible words at him.

He extended his arms towards me. He reached out to me. I covered my face with my arms and I folded my feet to defend my body. I'm not even screaming anymore, my entire body has given up altogether.

Nothing happened.

I took my arms off my head to see the elevator door closed. I'm safe. I'm okay, it almost feels unreal but I'm unscratched. I chuckled as the tension in my body and the absolute fatigue I haven't felt earlier suddenly floods right through me. I laughed in a coarse, tired voice as tears flow out of my eyes. I laughed as thousands of emotions clog my mind. I laughed as I feel every part and every corner of my body drenched in sweat.

I laughed. I laughed and cried. There's no better feeling than the relief of surviving a battle I could not have won. I curled up, dying inside yet gladdened to be alive. I lay down the cold elevator floor, bawling and laughing like a hopeless asylum patient couple with the fact that the elevator door opens in every floor makes it seem like I'm being transported from the ninth circle of hell befitting for a woman like I. Frankly, I care not if someone sees me, I'm just overwhelmed I can still see the light of day.

As I arrive at the fifth floor, my floor, I can finally say with great ease this sad day has finally ended. I stood up, breathed heavily thrice, and walked out as soon as the elevator door swung open. My floor is here, rest is upon me, finally. And as soon as I stepped foot on the hallway every strength in me got drained and it felt as if my body only leaves me ample energy to traverse the few meters leading towards my apartment.

My head feels like it's about to crack, my feet is so worked up I'm not even sure if I can walk properly, my body is releasing so much heat I might as well be a hearth, and my heart is still scattered inside me like broken glass yet I can still feel it pumping punches through my chest.

Room 503, finally home. What a long day, what a shitty day, I wish I can erase time so I can remove this day, but that won't make sense. That thought made me want to listen to The Court of the Crimson King. Maybe tomorrow I'll play my King Crimson vinyl collection while looking for a new job. Ugh, just thinking about it made me thousand times more exhausted.

I unlocked my doorknob with my key card and pushed my door open as soon as the beep sounded. I threw my handbag on my bed and opened my window. I closed my eyes and let the evening breeze sweep all the stress away. I feel so shattered and yet the cold evening breeze blowing through my window gives me a surreal feeling of euphoria, calming me with a soothing touch Mother Nature alone could give.

Well, I've been here for a while, might as well retire for the night. Or maybe I should just retire altogether and be a whore instead. Nah, that won't work, the pension would be garbage and I'm too young to sell well, should've considered that thought when I was eighteen. I'm joking, jeez.

I opened my eyes to see the view from my room probably one last time. I need to move soon, or find a job that can sustain my lifestyle in this apartment and-

Wait a minute, what's that?

From the rooftop of a nearby building, about three-story tall, I can see a shadow of someone waving some sort of light source. Whoever this person is, they're doing it on purpose. He's waving them like he's asking for help, is he stranded? The way he moves his hands from left to right with a light source, perhaps a cellphone's flashlight, makes it feel like he's a concertgoer but he's alone. It seems as if he's trying to get someone's attention.

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Oh no.

If that's the case, I think he succeeded in his plan. I took a step back and covered my lips with my fingers. Is he trying to get my attention?

As if taunting me, the lights of the building's rooftop wherein the stranger stood shone. Every spotlight and every bit of light source in that damned rooftop seems to be pointing only to the person waving at me. This revealed clear as day who this person is, who he is. Among billions of people in the world whose name I am not aware of, he's the one I'm most acquainted with.

The light of the rooftop shone with harsh intensity. It illuminates the entire vicinity, eating the surrounding darkness with it. The beam coming from the stranger's hand as he continues to wave at me felt like a dot in comparison. However, for me, it felt like a powerful aureole delivering me from eternal damnation.

A man wearing a gray hoodie and black pants with his left hand waving at me while he stuck the other inside the pocket of his jeans. I screeched at the sight of him. Who is he? What is he doing? Why is he playing with me? Is this supposed to be a sick joke? I'm not laughing!

The man stopped waving, placed the phone he's waving back to his pocket, and crouched to take a something on the ground. He raised a cardboard to double his size with words written in green paint, inscribed in it are things I wish I have not read.

BEEN A WHILE

I'M COMING 4 U ! ! !