IS
15

I didn’t remember the clown, or many of the other toys and trinkets that surrounded the room, but the ones I did remember would have to wait for my return back. I only had the safe and uneventful trip home in my best interest. God, please get me home!

I traveled across the floor through the moonbeams, to the huge doorway that was now opened to the great outdoors; black and still with only the song of crickets and the quiet rush of the river to blemish the silence that would be my journey home–-I prayed.

Before I exited the large space, I turned, with one hand on a door and the other on my old gold friend, looking back at what I had to leave behind. I had wanted answers, but now it seemed that I was faced with even more unanswered questions and with no apparent answers any time soon.

I thought for a second about closing the doors to hide my old lost treasures from whoever, when the thought of my journey at hand seemed to outweigh everything else. “Fuck it,” I mumbled, and moved across the property towards the river.

As I stood on the bank, the setting seemed so serene that it was almost difficult to imagine anything extraordinary taking place here; that what had transpired between the time I exited the river and where I was now standing, had been nothing more than an obscene delusion.

The peaceful rush of the river’s flow was mesmerizing. I felt myself slip into a dreamlike trance. My eyes were frozen, and my mind was numb once more, when my moment of euphoria was interrupted by the sound of my phone alerting me of a message, from deep inside the front pocket of my jeans.

“You have got to be kidding me!” I stated, temperate and concise. My hand dug down into the cool wetness and came back up with my cell, dripping and glowing with the impossible. As I turned the screen in my direction, I could now see that through the thin layer of sediment and water, something was loading… a picture.

I quickly scanned the area around me and across the river, while I shook with anticipation of what I would soon see on the tiny screen. My heart must have skipped a beat when the image of Randi O’Conner sitting at her computer came into view. It was a picture taken of her back side, as if someone was standing behind her.

I desperately shook the phone to upset and possibly move the sediment from obstructing my chance of a clearer view, when the screen went dark and dead again. “Damn it!” I shouted, as I slid the phone back into my pocket and swiftly began my journey back along the river, all the while looking around me for fear of my freakish stalker.

The moon hardly gave me enough light to accurately follow the terrain. I found myself stumbling and completely falling at times, rising back to my feet, but never losing focus of my mission to get back home—worried for Randi’s safety.

As I continued along, pushing through tall weeds and tree branches, my human mind couldn’t help but envision the worst possible scenarios imaginable. God—I felt responsible, and wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything were to happen to Randi. I started to question how a picture could have been taken of her, and on an even more impossible note, how that could have been sent to my phone that had died sometime earlier this evening, just before going for a cold swim with me in the river.

But with all the crazy events that had taken place, why bother? I only knew I had to get the hell out of here and get my ass home. Whether it was another trick or not, I felt my home had to hold more refuge than being out here in the woods.

And then I stopped moving. I stopped because I was sure I heard something behind me. The air was cool and quiet, with only the movement of the river’s flow to compliment it. Even the crickets had stalled their musical talents for the time being, as the moon continued to dominate the clear black sky with its presence. Once I was satisfied with the possibility of my heightened imagination, I continued on. I had no time to waste.

Seconds later and maybe only a few yards further, I stopped again. The quiet was nerve shattering, and just about the time I was questioning why the crickets had gone silent, the crack of a branch or a twig broke the silence like the impact of a mortar shell, to my ears. It was definitely behind me, and I feared not too far as I began to move faster. Time had become a factor, and speed was now the answer. I didn’t stop any more after that; there was no reason to. I just kept moving, all the while looking to the other side for the large sandy clearing at the river’s edge that marked where the path was.

Even with the rush of fear that traveled with me, my mind was in constant motion as well. I knew that if I jumped in and tried swimming across once I saw the clearing, by the time I reached the other side the river’s current would have carried me too far down. I quickly surmised that I would have to pass the clearing by at least twenty yards or so before jumping in to cross. I knew he was strong, but after his chase that first night on the path, I knew also that I was faster than he was. All I would have to do is get a lead on him, and I knew I could outrun him. But I would first have to get across the river, which spanned a width of more than thirty feet. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Why was he doing this, when at first he seemed so passive, so intent on communicating with me? It must have been some kind of trick. Some sick alien ploy to confuse me, to put me off guard, to make me more vulnerable.

There–-I said it… “Alien”. There’s no other explanation. Even after everything I had seen and experienced throughout this whole ordeal, I guess I was trying to stay away from the idea that this was someone or something from another world, or planet. But now I could finally say it, even if only to myself… this was an alien!

I thought my heart would explode from my chest by the time I caught an eye on the clearing. And at my pace, I began to count–-“five, ten, fifteen, twenty” before veering off to take my leap of fate. With the momentum I sustained, I flew at least half the distance across, before crashing down into the river. The sickening thing was, just before I hit the water, I thought I heard another splash before mine. I couldn’t be sure, and even while I struggled for the other side, my anxiety made me fear the possibility of what could be just below the river’s surface.

I had refused to discard my only means of defense, which had now become a golden crutch, leading me from the river’s rush and up the sandy embankment. Fear and fear alone was what drove me forward, as I had no breath or energy left to continue without it. Once I reached the top, I wanted so badly to fall on the ground and rest, but that same fear would only let me fall against a sign post.

I turned back to see only his bald head protruding out of the water. He seemed to be unaffected by the strong current as it cut around him. And this time, there was no smile on his white face—only a blank disturbing stare that chilled me to the bone.

I couldn’t speak. I only watched his stare, as his head slowly submerged until his eyes were just above the water line, which was where he remained for a few seconds more–-and then he was gone. It was then that I felt something snap upstairs. A dike had burst, no longer keeping crazy at bay.

“Is that all you got?” I screamed, as I ran forward, flinging the bat with rage into the river at the very spot I last saw his face. “Yeah? Fuck you! Fuck you!” I repeated a second time, as I lost my balance and fell back on my ass, weeping in the midst of hysterics.

After only a short time, I caught myself and cut short my cries, wiping my eyes and rising to my feet again, holding on to the sign post for support. Seeing him here with me made me realize that Randi was most likely in no immediate danger, and that the whole phone thing was just another trick.

I was growing tired of his games, when I looked to the sign above that read, “SWIMMING NOT ENCOURAGED–-SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK” This brought out a nervous laugh. I dragged a hand across my snotty nose, turning to make my way down the hard bike path once again, when a subtle breeze blew into me.

And then I started to think about Midnight. In all of this, I had completely forgotten about my neighbor’s poor cat. I slowly transitioned my walk to a jog, repeatedly glancing back for fear of being followed. Keeping a steady pace, I found myself looking to the moon, whenever an opening in the trees allowed it; wondering where out there in the vastness of dark open space, he had come from-–and why? Then I remembered something he said, that at the time he said it hadn’t for whatever reason sunk in until that very moment.

He had said, “I have always been here.”

What the hell did he mean by that? And then a familiar chill came over me as I began to put together any common pieces that lingered in my memory. I could again see the display of my childhood belongings scattered around me in the barn, followed by a distorted vision of him in my window that night when I was eleven. Yes, even as frightening as the scenario was beginning to look, it was at last beginning to take shape, with or without answers from the source himself. Could that even be possible? Could he really have been here, watching me all these years? I know to my human, programmed mind, this made no human sense. But he wasn’t human. And why would this have to make sense to me? Who was I?

“All right Josh old boy, you’ve finally lost it!” I spoke out, never slowing my pace. I could now see the start of the path and the welcoming sight of the boulevard ahead. I felt as though I had been gone for days, but alas, it had only been another short trip into hell. Traffic was scarce. I guessed it to be somewhere around midnight as I ventured out of the woods and back into the comfort of civilization again; even if a large percentage of that civilization happened to be asleep.

All the way home through my neighborhood, I kept an intense vigil on my surroundings. My nerves were shot, and I found myself jumping at everything that moved in my peripheral. At one point a cat crossed the street in front of me, and I was ready to take cover. And then there was a car, a car with real people. It pulled alongside of me and we both slowed to a gradual stop. It was the Stanton’s.

“Josh! I thought that was you. What the hell are you doing out here at this hour?” Mike Stanton said, leaning his head out the driver side window.

“Just out for a walk, enjoying the night” I replied, nervously feeling the squishy wetness in my shoes. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you were out of town?”

“We are. I mean, we were. Something happened, and we had to get a late flight back.” And then he curiously looked me over and asked, “Hey buddy, what the hell happened to you? And why are you all wet?” as his two kids, also curious, pushed their noses to the window to see for themselves.

“Yeah… it’s a long story!” I answered back, feeling nervous and apprehensive in the company of real people again. Mary leaned over her husband to inquire about Corey and the kids.

“Oh, they’re in Florida visiting Corey’s parents.” I responded. I then moved to end the conversation. “Well, glad you’re back. We’ll have to catch up this weekend or something.”

“Yah, okay, buddy. We’ll talk to you later,” he said as they pulled away, kids rushing the back window, smiling and waving.

A few seconds later, I remembered their cat. “Damn it!” I began to run again, as our houses were just around the turn. By the time I reached the Stanton’s driveway, Mike was unloading the car.

“Mike!” I was practically out of breath. “I wanted to talk to you about your cat!” I finally said, leaning forward with my hands resting on my knees.

“Yeah. Midnight being gone was a real bummer, but I think the trip gave everyone a chance to get past it.”

“What?” I looked at him confused, speaking in between breaths. “No. It’s okay, I have her. I thought you guys accidentally left her out, but everything’s all right, she’s at my house.”

Then Mike turned around to face me. “What are you talking about?” he said, with a confused look on his face.

“Midnight! I have her. She’s–-”

“She’s dead!” Mike interrupted. “Josh, Midnight died two days before we left,” he continued, as he slammed the trunk closed. “I don’t know whose cat you have, but it’s not Midnight! I’m really tired buddy, we’ll talk again tomorrow, eh?”

“Yeah, sure,” I responded, feeling a sense of guilt for having brought it up. “Hey, Mike? I’m sorry.”

“No problem. Goodnight!” he said with a forced smile, as he made his way into the garage. Shortly after that, the large door slowly came down, and I was left to my thoughts while staring at the dark bay window in the front of my house. I cautiously moved down the sidewalk in front as if I were casing the place, all the while staring intensely at the door and windows, wondering just what the hell I would be coming home to. “So. The fucking mystery continues,” I whispered to myself.

I looked past the Stanton’s to find the O’Conner place dark and silent, as well. And even with all the crazy things that had taken place, I could still imagine Randi all warm and comfy in her bed, probably in nothing but… well, probably nothing. Shortly after my perverted vision, I was almost mad at myself–-almost! I wrote it off as just keeping close to something normal. I guess it was only human to think of something every other guy on this street would think of on a regular basis. It was a nice escape, a welcome change of thought from what had monopolized my mind over the past couple of days.

But, it was simply a brief tease, as I refocused to my next endeavor… I was home.

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