Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25170312-20140713012004

- I know people usually post here and then submit, but I did it backwards. This is my first creepypasta so I really want to see if people like it.

The Follower: Paul's Story

''Paul O'Neil was a 36 year old tech consultant living and working in New York. On August 15, 2009, he was found in his home in a catatonic state after being missing from work for over a week. The following short story is a dramatization of the testimony that led to him being committed.''

Paul left work a little early that day. It was a nice day, and he loved the walk home when the weather was nice. He even took the long way this time so he could enjoy it without having to stop. After all, he did want to get home. Not that anyone was waiting for him.

Sometimes people look behind them when they are walking. There is no real reason for it. It's just something we do. So Paul looked behind him. There were some high school girls walking and talking, and far in the distance was another random person. He kept walking and eventually the high school girls passed him, turned a corner, and were gone. Again, for no real reason, Paul looked behind him. There was just the random person from before, but now they were closer. Like the high school girls, they must have been walking faster than Paul.

As Paul continued to walk home, he looked behind him every now and then. Each time, the random individual was a little closer. The strange thing was that they seemed to be walking slower than Paul, even though they continued to get closer to him. Paul decided he would jog a little to put some more distance between him and the unknown man. He only jogged for about a minute before slowing down to his normal pace. As he stopped at a corner to wait for traffic to pass, he casually looked to see if the man was still there. He was not.

Paul crossed the street and kept walking. He felt a little relieved that the man was gone, but he felt silly because there was no reason to feel that way. From what he could see, the man didn't look strange. He was dressed a little better than the resident homeless, and his beard wasn't nearly as ragged. As he thought about it, he began to walk a little slower.

Just then, Paul noticed a familiar car coming down the street. It was his co-worker, Linda. Paul waved to her and she honked hello. As she passed by, Paul turned around and continued to wave. In the distance he saw the mysterious man. Suddenly overcome by an uneasy feeling, Paul walked briskly the rest of the way home.

The next day at work, Paul met Linda at the water cooler for some conversation.

"So where were you headed yesterday?" Paul asked. "I thought you were staying late?"

"Only because Chuck wanted me to, but then he said I can take care of it tomorrow. So who was that you were walking with?"

"Huh? When?"

"Yesterday. When you waved and I honked."

"I wasn't walking with anyone."

"Then who was that guy behind you?"

Paul didn't like that question. "I was walking by myself."

"Really? But he was following so close behind I assumed you two were together."

"Linda, I wasn't with anyone."

"Well... someone was with you."

Over the course of the next week, Paul began to feel restless. At first he dismissed what Linda said as a joke. But then he thought about the man who was walking behind him. Could he have really gotten that close without Paul realizing? Wouldn't he have heard footsteps? Or was the man mimicking Paul's steps so as to not draw attention? And if so, how could he have covered more distance than Paul in order to get close to him?

Paul began to harass Linda about the mysterious man. He wanted to know every detail she could remember. Linda didn't remember anything other than seeing a man behind Paul, but he kept asking. She eventually changed her story in an attempt to get him to leave her alone. Paul wasn't satisfied. All week he had been intentionally taking the short way home, but today he would once again take the long way in the hopes of seeing the man who may or may not have been following him.

It wasn't a nice day at all. Paul started towards home with butterflies in his stomach. He was a little frightened, but excited. He had no idea why, but he was intrigued with the idea of a confrontation with this man. He hadn't done anything to Paul, but if Linda was correct, he was uncomfortably close to Paul without him knowing, and that was rather unsettling. He had to meet the man that could do such a thing.

Paul looked behind him about every 30 seconds as he walked home. He was trying too hard. The man wasn't going to appear unless Paul was casual about it, so he decided not to look for a full five minutes. He stared at his watch, trying not to bump into anyone or anything as he continued walking. After five minutes had passed, he turned around and still there was no one there. As he turned back around there was a woman texting on her smart phone who walked right into him. They collided as the woman gasped in shock, dropping her phone.

"Are you alright?" Paul asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, but my phone better not be broken!"

"Well, you should be paying attention."

"I saw you staring at your watch. You weren't paying attention either. Neither was your friend."

"My friend?"

"Well, I thought he was your friend. I guess he wasn't because he's gone now."

Paul's face turned white.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked.

"Why did you think he was my friend?"

"Well, he was walking so close behind, I just assumed you were together."

Paul slammed and locked the door behind him. Out of breath, he fell down on all fours and waited to catch his wind. He turned on all the lights and looked in every room. "What exactly am I looking for?" he asked himself. He sat down on the couch and watched television.

Later that night, Paul felt unusually calm. He was in the safety of his bachelor pad with no way for anyone to follow him around. He decided that whatever happened, or didn't happen, was meaningless and that his life was no different than it was a week ago. As he walked past the mirror in the hallway that led to his bedroom, he thought he saw something in his peripheral vision. He looked in the mirror and saw his reflection. But he felt as though he was looking at more than that.

He turned his body to look at his back in the mirror, but no one can see their entire back no matter how they twist and turn. He shrugged and kept walking to his room. "Maybe a drink before bed," he thought, and turned back to go to the kitchen. Again, as he passed the mirror in the hallway, he thought he saw something. He looked in the mirror and it was just his reflection again.

Paul removed the mirror from the wall and brought it to the bathroom where there was another large mirror. He faced away from the bathroom mirror and stared straight ahead, holding the hallway mirror near his chest. Slowly, he raised the mirror in front of his face. Paul looked into it, and saw the reflection from the bathroom mirror. There was a man standing right behind him. 