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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1916668
by Hamid
Rated: E · Letter/Memo · Contest · #1916668
The narrator thinks someone or something is following him.
Do I dare?

There was something wrong with me. I didn’t know what it was, but there it existed for sure. A number of my friends were here and there talking with each other. I walked among them, and whenever I put a step forward, I felt someone, or something, was following me. I turned back but I saw nothing. It lasted for a while and made me do something about it.

I walked, ran, stopped, but what was it? What was it? Again I looked back...nothing, nothing was there! So why did I feel so? At last, I dared ask a friend about it.

“Hey, dude! What is it that I feel?” asked I.

“May I tell the truth, plainly?” answered he. “Do you dare listen?”

It gave me a horrible sense. My feeling got worse. “What does he mean?” I thought. “What is that so terrifying? What is that everyone seems to know about except me?” Everyone was in their own bussiness as if they had been waiting for me to ask that question. Now all of my friends were staring at us. They were waiting for me to say “yes” in order that my friend tell me the problem.

Honestly, I did not dare, because at first I didn’t think that would be so hard to know about it, but now, now it was. It seemed very difficult to face it, to face the problem, the follower.

“Tell me this!” I said eventually. I had no other choice.

“Just go and stand before that mirror,” said he promptly.

I walked slowly, every step in a second. I was only thinking about what it would be. I felt that everyone was watching me, but I didn’t care. I asked them what it was following me, and they told me to go and look at the mirror! What for? What is the relation between these two things?

I was wondering and walking. At last I reached the mirror. A single look was enough, just a very single one! It was enough to know the whole story, the whole story which I was longing to know. At this sight, I was pinned to the ground I was standing upon. I stared at it, just stared! It was me! Was it me? It didn’t resemble me, at all! Was it me with a head in the shape of something between a pyramid and a sphere? That much terrified and terrifying? With those eyes surrounded with livid eyelids? He seemed to have been suffering for a long time. I was looking at him with gazing eyes; I couldn’t help it; I was lost in the relation between this thing and the person standing before the mirror, I!

“Hah,” I woke up with my eyes wide open, panting, staring at the ceiling. This was the answer to all my questions and wonderings. It was a nightmare. But how awful a nightmare!
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1916668