It follows

You feel it, don’t you? That chill shiver down your spine. It’s your body’s warning. The warning I’m behind you. It’s your brain firing signals- don’t turn around. Your breath catches, heart speeding up. Your fingers twitch, twinges of pins and needles, a sign of your anxiety growing. You shake your head a little, trying to shake the feeling off. It doesn’t work, does it? Your subconscious is far smarter than your conscious mind.

You quicken your steps, resist the urge to look behind you. What do you think you’ll see? I wonder what would be worse, seeing something or seeing nothing. You exhale forcefully, clenching and unclenching your hands in to fists. Trying to calm yourself. Because you’re fine, you argue to yourself, feeling silly for being paranoid. You’re safe, you’ve walked this path hundreds of times and nothing bad has ever happened. Right?

It’s just anxiety, that’s what the doctor had said, hadn’t he? With that disinterested, put on pity expression. He’s mind already on the next patient, or lunch, something far more important than listening to you for even a minute longer. “ We all get anxious, it’s normal.” He said, he looked like he was resisting rolling his eyes. And that’s when you felt it, wasn’t it? That flicker of hope, that someone would help you, that someone would believe you that I was real, that’s when that flicker died.

You feel a hot flush burn up your back, like someone’s close enough to be breathing down your neck. Curiously, you still refuse to turn around. How afraid are you of what you’ll see? Or what you won’t? Because you feel just a bit crazy, don’t you? You imagine telling your mother, you imagine that she would chuckle, “ you and your imagination,” she’d say, turning away to do something more important. No, you’ll keep silent about me, won’t you? Don’t want to look crazy afterall. Shame, it could have saved you.

Now it’s my turn to take a deep breath in, not out of fear, but excitement. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so many years. I reach out to you, pull a strand of hair off your shoulder. You flinch. You speed up again, almost to a jog now, trying to get away from me. You can’t outrun me. But I let you go for a few seconds, I like a good chase. I lengthen my stride, catching up in seventeen steps. I reach for you again, reach for your neck, smiling, happy.

Ring!

We both jump at the sudden noise. You reach in to your pocket. Put something against your ear.

“Mum?” You squeak, barely getting a sound out. A pause from you, then. “ I know I sound crazy but I think there’s something behind me.” I think you want your mother to comfort you, tell you everything is ok. “Mum? What’s wrong?”

“Run!” She screams down the phone, causing you to drop it. But her scream works, you run. Now the chase begins. I laugh and you hear it don’t you? A screeching of wind blowing through the trees. You run harder, I didn’t know you could run that fast, you surprise me.

“Help!” You yell, but there isn’t anyone around-

“ I’m here! I’m here! You’re safe, I’m here!” Sandra. Always causing trouble. Always stopping me.

“Nana?”

Sandra wraps you in her arms, “ you’re safe, he can’t get you now.” She stares straight at me, unafraid. “You can’t have her.” She’s speaking to me now.

“ I have to have someone Sandra, your father made a deal.” I smile, I know what comes next, what always comes next, the sacrifice to save another.

“Not today, Satan.” She growls, pulls you away, never letting you look back.