Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-17758905-20140813233744

Have you ever wondered how many people know where you lived? I don't mean friends and family that obviously know your location. I'm talking about people you don't even know, or want to know. Ever wonder how many bad people know the place you live in? And also the directions to get there?

It all started a couple of years ago. I was living in an apartment with my friend, Cedric, while working the graveyard shift in the local Walmart. I had taken a shower and put on my clothes before I reached for the door knob. I stopped since I suddenly realized I was hungry. Since I had time to kill, I got myself a banana and ate it.

After consuming the fruit I walked out to my front porch, and then to the sidewalk before I saw a man to my left. He wore a tan suit with a red tie and had on black pants. On his head was a fedora with a white veil draping over his face.

Normally, that's something you dismiss. I mean, it's just a guy. However, his veil was turned in my direction to look right at me. I stared at him as well. He made no move towards me. I began to wonder that if I didn't eat that banana would he be right at my house? That would've made this situation even more weird and awkward.

After maybe thirty seconds of staring I just turned around and walked off. However, when I boarded the bus to work I couldn't help but to think of the strange man. I tried to dismiss this, but I don't really see many strange people where I am. A lot of people say I'm not lucky enough, but since this incident, I think I'm exactly as lucky as I want.

Now, this is where the story gets... weirder. This next incident takes a couple of weeks after my first time seeing the man.

One night, while I was showering for work, I heard someone knocking on the bathroom door. "Cedric," I recall saying, "I'll be out there, just give me five minutes!"

"Oh, hey, I thought I heard you scream!" I heard Cedric say.

I suddenly paused and asked, a little more loudly, "Why!?"

"Oh, I just heard a scream near here, that's all!"

I shrugged it off. Probably just someone's child screaming or something. Though, when I went downstairs and went outside and headed to work I saw to my left that same man. He was staring at me once more, and it was starting to creep me out. And the fact that there was screaming before I saw him was all the more unnerving.

"Why are you staring at me?" I asked him. He didn't say anything. Was he sleepwalking? Still, I decided to catch my bus. Unlike last time, I walked with a brisker pace.

When I came home in the morning from work I didn't see the man. There was wet spots where he used to be. Rain? Did someone spill some water on there? Not like it really mattered since it didn't bother me.

   It wasn't until a couple of days later that I noticed my neighbors scrubbing at something on their walls. Since I was curious, I walked around the fence and saw they were cleaning something red. It was blood, which made me wonder what happened. It wasn't my business, though, so I ignored it. This fact was actually creepier in hindsight.

About only a month   was the last time I saw the man. Like both other times I was going to work, but I looked to my left and saw him. This time he was closer than before, and he had a flashlight. In fact, I was alerted of his presence when he shined it in my face.

I grunted as the light assaulted my vision. "What are you doing?" I asked. He began walking towards me. Never before has he moved and I was getting wary of what he might do to me, so I began backing up.

<p class="MsoNormal">However, he kept getting closer and closer to me, before suddenly I turned around and ran off due to my body being possessed by primal fear. I heard footsteps and looked back only to see him running right at me.

<p class="MsoNormal">I turned back and kept running forward on the sidewalk trying to outrun him. My heart was beating like a hummingbird's while the cold night felt even cooler. While my body froze to the core from fright, my legs carried me over my block and onto the next.

<p class="MsoNormal">I still heard his footsteps behind me, only he was getting closer. The sounds were beginning to coalesce as my fists threw themselves forward, as if ready to punch out something. I had to duck under a tree branch in the way and I hoped the branch would distract him for at least a second, but I heard the footsteps still attempting to catch up to me.

<p class="MsoNormal">"What do you want!?" I shouted desperately as I finally reached the bus stop. I did not receive an answer, and I was the only one present at the stop besides the man which meant no one would be able to save me. My throat felt as dry as the sands of the Sahara Desert, but I still pushed on and ran up a hill. Unfortunately, I tripped and tumbled down it. I landed in some thorn bushes at the base of the hill.

<p class="MsoNormal">I screamed in pain as I felt hundreds of thorns pricking my skin. A burning sensation went all throughout my body as I attempted to get up. After two attempts to get up, I tried to run again, only to collapse onto my knees. With all of my strength I had to force myself up once more and I ended up trudging away. I looked back to see how close the man was to me. Fortunately, I saw that he was gone.

<p class="MsoNormal">I took my injured body to the hospital. I wasn't going back home that night. I didn't want to take the chance of meeting that man again.

<p class="MsoNormal">Now, you may just think I am paranoid, but you hopefully will find these next few paragraphs perturbing and disturbing. You see, only a week after that incident I was reading the papers and I looked at one article that made me realize how much danger I truly was in that night. Or any of those nights, really.

<p class="MsoNormal">They had recently arrested a rapist who stayed around my area. He wore a white veil, black pants, and a tan suit. He typically slit the throats of his victims before he raped them and put their blood into an alcoholic beverage. Afterwards, he cut up his victims and shoved them into bushes. His name was Paul Gret.

<p class="MsoNormal">Frequently he left wet spots or blood on the walls from where he spilt his drinks or bodily fluids. He also murdered men who were walking around in the middle of the night. I began realizing all the hints I had gotten that I skimmed over while I read this.

<p class="MsoNormal">So I've come to the conclusion that every time he was staring at me he was really considering how easy I would be to kill. I guess eventually he decided I was easy enough. No matter what though, I lived. I moved out of that place quickly.

<p class="MsoNormal">Why haven't I posted this up sooner? Because a week ago I returned to my old neighborhood and I discovered this new article in the paper.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Runaway Rapist: Serial Killer Paul Gret Escaped from Local Jail." <ac_metadata title="Who Knows Your Location?"> </ac_metadata>