Calm down, I'm calling back to say, 'I'm home now.'
I haven't been this scared... I think ever.
Walking like I usually do, about forty minutes ago. Went to buy cigarettes, much to my chagrin. This time walking, I felt odd. The air felt different, somehow; everything looked a bit nefarious, which was peculiar, because I don't ever see the route that I walk as ominous ever. I dismissed my feeling and continued walking.
I finally reached the pathetic strip of stores where I typically by my Camel Mellows (they have a discount and it's closest), and this guy gets to the door as soon as I do. Jamaican, he reminded me of a demon genie that I once encountered in Dark Cloud (yes, not the best game, but he looked just like him, only darker purple). He was very friendly, asking my name, saying that we met before (if we did, I definitely repressed the awful memory). I was courteous, as I always am to strangers. We went inside.
I wound up walking around this dingy store for at least fifteen minutes, scanning items I'd never buy, as this person and his friends did lottery tickets. When they finally left, I slowly made my way to the counter and talked to the man behind it about them. Asked his name (we see each other often), made a friend, and forgot about the scary man. Apparently, he didn't forget about me.
This is when I wish I told people different names. Called myself Angela, Danielle, even Eleanor. I walked past the doors of the store and they were still there, waiting for me. How did I know they were waiting for me? They started calling my name, asking me where I lived, 'Goin' home, Ah-lane?'. I dutifully ignored them, which had one of them walking towards me. I turned the corner and took out my phone.
I didn't think of anyone else but the faun. Perhaps, unconsciously I recalled that two of my suitemates were doing a radio show, and the others were out, but I found his number and called him, shaking and my heart racing to push itself out of my chest. He answered and I was breathless, asking him to please not get off the phone. I'm being followed.
He didn't get off, asking if I was going to be okay, were they still following me? Luckily, I turned and they were not, so I hung up with him after stuttering apologies and telling myself how ridiculous I was being.
Now that I was calm(er) having smoked a couple cigs and standing in my room, I promptly dropped my back, ripped off my sweatshirt and screamed.
What I was all worked up about was not the fact that I was being followed; that was relieved with bitter tears in the corners of my eyes. What made me cry out was the fact that the first person I thought to call was the faun.
I texted him apologizing again, and he didn't answer.
What am I doing to myself? I'd like to scream some more, if my character would let me.
Walking like I usually do, about forty minutes ago. Went to buy cigarettes, much to my chagrin. This time walking, I felt odd. The air felt different, somehow; everything looked a bit nefarious, which was peculiar, because I don't ever see the route that I walk as ominous ever. I dismissed my feeling and continued walking.
I finally reached the pathetic strip of stores where I typically by my Camel Mellows (they have a discount and it's closest), and this guy gets to the door as soon as I do. Jamaican, he reminded me of a demon genie that I once encountered in Dark Cloud (yes, not the best game, but he looked just like him, only darker purple). He was very friendly, asking my name, saying that we met before (if we did, I definitely repressed the awful memory). I was courteous, as I always am to strangers. We went inside.
I wound up walking around this dingy store for at least fifteen minutes, scanning items I'd never buy, as this person and his friends did lottery tickets. When they finally left, I slowly made my way to the counter and talked to the man behind it about them. Asked his name (we see each other often), made a friend, and forgot about the scary man. Apparently, he didn't forget about me.
This is when I wish I told people different names. Called myself Angela, Danielle, even Eleanor. I walked past the doors of the store and they were still there, waiting for me. How did I know they were waiting for me? They started calling my name, asking me where I lived, 'Goin' home, Ah-lane?'. I dutifully ignored them, which had one of them walking towards me. I turned the corner and took out my phone.
I didn't think of anyone else but the faun. Perhaps, unconsciously I recalled that two of my suitemates were doing a radio show, and the others were out, but I found his number and called him, shaking and my heart racing to push itself out of my chest. He answered and I was breathless, asking him to please not get off the phone. I'm being followed.
He didn't get off, asking if I was going to be okay, were they still following me? Luckily, I turned and they were not, so I hung up with him after stuttering apologies and telling myself how ridiculous I was being.
Now that I was calm(er) having smoked a couple cigs and standing in my room, I promptly dropped my back, ripped off my sweatshirt and screamed.
What I was all worked up about was not the fact that I was being followed; that was relieved with bitter tears in the corners of my eyes. What made me cry out was the fact that the first person I thought to call was the faun.
I texted him apologizing again, and he didn't answer.
What am I doing to myself? I'd like to scream some more, if my character would let me.