‘Are you sure no one else is here?’

He watched the younger boy pace up and down the room with as much attentiveness as watching a pendulum. His eyes were wide and his hair was horribly disheveled, as if he hadn’t slept or, better yet, even rested for days. His entire body trembled visibly under the thick articles of clothing he wore and his boots often clacked against one another as he walked; a clear indication of his delirious, frightened state.

‘Think. Please. It’s not possible that a car was just randomly dumped in the middle of a forest. There… there has to be an explanation for this, there…’

‘Maybe they just sightseeing,’ the man’s crackly voice sounded as he scratched his nose absently; eyes fixated on the small collection of papers on the dining table.

‘Folks c’mere a lot without warning. They check out the place. Just like ya.’

‘Then how do you explain the car being empty and locked?’

A brief silence settled over the two men at the proposed question, and Luhan’s mind buzzed with dreary seamlessness. Perhaps for the past two hours this had been the case. The buzzing hadn’t ceased ever since he discovered the car and gathered whatever handheld contents he could, and even as he stood trembling over them for the past hour until the old man seemingly arrived to collect the weekly refuse, his mind worked a mile a minute in fear…

And the ghostly look on his face was anything but inconspicuous. The moment the old man – noting the absence of a black bag on the front porch – approached the home in search of the current resident, what he was greeted by was a deathly pale youngster. In fact, he looked like an entirely different person for an instance with his paper white skin, parched lips, and eyes so wide one would swear he just witnessed a UFO fly by.

‘Son, have you been drinkin’…?’

Luhan swallowed hard. A deep frown etched its way between his eyebrows and his nose crinkled in disbelief. His fingers dug deeper into the card still tightly crumpled within his fist and he pushed his other hand through his hair, gripping the strands with force.

‘No. And just to be clear of any more suspicion, I’m not on drugs either.’

The man shuffled; his eyes roaming back to the handful of polaroids on the table. ‘So what are ya implying? Someone’s out to kill ya? Showed up in a rundown car with trash and in a few days time, I’m gonna find ya dead?’

Luhan remained silent. His eyes remained fixed on the man who, despite speaking so nonchalantly of the issue, the dreadful blow it delivered to Luhan's gut was enough to make the pudding he ate earlier stir sickly in his stomach. The possibility of his life being in danger was something that hadn’t as yet occurred to him. But now that the homeowner made mention of the idea, his thoughts ran amok within his head; gory images flashing in his mind and the possibilities of his impending demise dropped a weight as heavy as an anvil on his shoulders.

What was it that possessed him to leave in the first place at all? Luhan suddenly began to doubt his escape entirely. What he imagined would be momentary reprieve – a relaxing, calming few days in isolation – somehow transformed into a dreadful nightmare about ready to unravel, and even the thought enticed hot bile rushing up his esophagus.

Who was it? Luhan had a clear suspicion of who it was, but paired with the overwhelming sense of paranoia and fear of the unknown he felt, he pushed the possibility to the back of his mind. There was no way it could be who he thought it was. Why was someone after him? Or more importantly, how did they even know where he was? The address was impossible to find. He disclosed it to no one. He even clearly remembered being alone the entire drive here, so how in the world was it possible anyone for that matter knew his whereabouts—but how did that explain the card?

‘Ya don’t look so hot…,’ the old man commented, glancing briefly at Luhan whose face had grown deathly pale and now accompanying a single hand that cupped his mouth.

He gravitated towards the polaroids and ran a hand over them, moving a few out of place as he did. Hints of colour were revealed in the process and he slowly turned them over, frowning at the terribly unfocused images. Confused and uninterested, however, he pushed the flipped photos back on the table with a heavy sigh; the combined photographs creating a vague image of something that suddenly caught Luhan’s attention.

‘Probably just nuttin’…’

‘Hold on,’ Luhan croaked, rushing towards the table with an extended hand. ‘It’s not just one photo…’

‘Huh?’

Ignoring the old man’s terribly skeptical look, the younger one turned back to the photos that were a scattered mess on the table. He began shifting them; replacing particular photos with others in repeated motion; and the homeowner watched him with a look nothing short of staring right into a padded cell. The frightening amount of desperation on his face startled him, and for a moment, he began to wonder why on earth any of this was so important anyway.

Nothing about the situation seemed alarming… oh, but only if he knew the true nature of Luhan’s paranoia and just how severely the thing ate at him. Luhan himself had no idea when was the last time he felt relaxed, or when was the last time he could just do something without looking over his shoulder, or taking a late night walk to be alone with his thoughts without feeling those eyes on him every step of the way.

‘What is this…?’

The seemingly unfocused, dark and light photos – when merged – created what seemed to be a puzzle of sorts with each polaroid serving as pieces. The larger image was still vague and Luhan felt a sense of unease wash over him at the complex possibility coming together… the possibility of the image being – of course – a person.

‘Ain’t that swell,’ the older man’s crusty voice pulled him out of the cold sweat he broke out into. ‘Must be yer friends messin’ with ya. Clever if ya ask me.’

Luhan frowned at him, completely puzzled by his words. ‘Excuse me? What do you…’

‘That’s you, innit?’

Luhan’s entire body froze, but the old man didn’t notice as he slid open the glass door, lingering between the living room and the back porch. His leg dangled over the exterior deck and he fished out a white stick from his pocket; the crinkled disposable protruding between his lips in an entanglement of scraggly grey hairs.

‘Nice. Well, I better get goin’. Make sure yer trash is out next Friday. As for that car… I dunno. As long as it ain’t nobody, yer frettin’ over nuttin’ son.’

And with that, the man was gone. His leave taking something else with him: the last bit of Luhan’s sanity. He stared at the nonexistent afterimage that remained and after hearing the dull roar of the dirty green SUV’s engine boom to life, he laughed. It was a laugh that shook him to the core; a laugh that had his eyes glued to the mystery puzzle in front of him… and yet it was a laugh that held zero amusement.

Gradually, the reality of his situation settled in. His laughter had subsided into soundless chuckling and unconsciously, it transformed into helpless whimpers. Because deep down, Luhan knew what it was. He knew from the start what it was but his conscience wouldn’t allow him to acknowledge the truth because it was preposterous. Farfetched. Impossible and unrealistic. But ever since he noticed it, his life was anything but normal. And the following decision came to him with no hesitation whatsoever.

Luhan packed. He was leaving. What