I was slowly walking down the street and the screams were becoming unbearable. I figured that it was only inside my head, but I was too tired to realize that it was me who was screaming. The street is completely dark and I am all alone. Who could be following me at this point? Why would they want to follow me? I turn the corner and there stands a tall man with a hood on. I couldn’t see his face, it was way too and he was covered by the hood. He wore all black and never once moved, until he began to walk towards me. I scream louder.
“ Who are you?” I scream.
He only chuckles.
“ What do you want from me?” I ask again.
He smiles, his face now a tiny bit visible. He still doesn’t say a word.
“ Answer me,” I scream at him.
He replies, “ Just look how beautiful and fierce you are all at once.”
I slightly roll my eyes and he chuckles at the fact of it.
“ What do you want from me and who are you?” I ask impatiently.
He fiddles with something around his wrist. It didn’t look normal at all.
“ What are you doing?” I ask.
He looks at me, but he has not said anything about that.
“ Why have you not answered me?” I say impatiently.
He tilts his and grabs me wrist. His skin is icy cold to the touch, yet it sends a tingle of warmth through my whole arm. It felt familiar, but I couldn’t figure out from what.
“ Why are you touching me?” I ask in hesitation.
“ It has been my reaction ever since I first seen you,” he says leaving me in awe.
“ What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“ Exactly as I have said,” he responds.
Now I’m the one to tilt my head. I’m extremely confused on when he has touched me before. Something seems so wrong, but so right at the same time. Realization finally strikes, I have seen him before, but only in a dream or at least I thought it was a dream.
“ When have you touched me?” I ask.
He grins, but makes no noise. I look at him pleading that he will just tell me.
He finally responds, “ Not too long ago actually, maybe last week, you were walking your normal way that night and I accidentally ran into you. I quickly got up and ran off, too scared of what you would say.”
“ Why didn’t you talk to me then, but you are now?” I ask.
“ I didn’t know how I would have told you,” he responds.
“ Now that you have confused me, why are you still here?” I ask.
“ I wanted to talk to you. I have always wanted to talk to you,” he responds slowly.
“ Why would you want to talk to me? I’m not a good person,” I respond without thinking.
“ You are perfect to me,” he says.
I think through everything that he has said, but I’m just left in a pool of wandering fears.