"Everything that we see is a shadow cast by which we do not see." – Martin Luther King, Jr.

That face!

     Alarm ringing throughout your frightened body, you whirl around to face the figure who’d been staring so intently at you from behind – only to see no one. Just the vacant, soulless streets of night. A fresh wave of goose bumps trails up your skin like icy fingers as you stare at the empty space where a body should have been standing.

     It was him again.

     You swallow hard, attempting to calm the trembling of your frantic heart, but to no avail. The shadows seem to grow longer, and the lights seem to grow dimmer. Not this again. Not again! You grip the hem of your coat, an irrepressible scream beginning to claw up your throat. You thought you were over this. That you had escaped from all of this: the illusions, the shadows shifting in the night, the ominous figure of a man forever lurking in the peripherals of your vision – watching, waiting. You should have known better though ... no one can escape from a ghost.

     Your eyes shift frantically and search the abandoned street for any signs of movement, but there is none. All is quiet, the awfully late hour having beckoned people to their homes where it is nice and safe. Only you dared to walk the late hours of night, a time where the creatures of the dark prowl the city.  Inwardly, you kick yourself for being such an idiot and for ever setting foot outside your door.

     After noticing how you shut yourself up in your house every evening and how wretchedly dull you were living life, your friend had decided to crack open your tomb and suggest going out to the club tonight. More like bound, gagged, and dragged to, but hey, what’s the difference. Your friend was on a mission; even if it required digging elbows-deep into your underwear drawer and chastising you for how dusty your lingerie had gotten. Knowing your friend meant well, you’d went along with it. “Drinks, dancing, and hot, sweaty men. What’s not to like?” she’d said. If she’d said leering, creepy men who danced too close for comfort, wouldn’t take no for an answer, and dumped beer all over your dress, she would have been much more accurate.

     After cleaning yourself up, you’d noticed your friend at the bar practically gushing at the ruggedly handsome bartender talking to her. Seeing the way they became lost in each other’s eyes when they’d brushed fingers as he’d passed her a drink had given you a quick summary of the scene at hand. Rather than spoil all the fun that night and ruin a perfectly good thing coming, you’d decided a white lie was in order.

     Shoving another sleazeball away from you, you’d approached your friend.  Pointing randomly over your shoulder to nowhere in particular, you’d asked, “See tall, dark, and handsome in the corner?” Curious, your friend had searched the crowd until her sights had landed on someone, and her eyebrows had disappeared up into her hairline in surprise. “I think I got this one on the hook. I am going to take him out for a little test drive. Don’t have too much fun without me,” you’d whispered to her with a knowing wink.

     And before she could utter a peep or before another creep could slip you his number, you’d left the club. Only after realizing your error of having no ride home and seeing no bus or taxi in sight, you’d started the long trek home alone. It was around the time when you’d begun to wonder who exactly your friend had seen in the corner at the club when you had looked over to gaze at your reflection in the shop windows – only to see him gaping at you from behind.

      If only your friend had known why you had locked yourself in every night…

     Hugging yourself as though to gather the surviving remnants of your sanity, you glance back at your reflection in the shop’s window expecting to see him still standing there behind you, but it is empty.

     It had been a year since you had seen that terrifying, yet achingly beautiful face – a face that should not belong to any man of this heaven or earth. And yet, it is so clearly burned into the back of your eyelids from his ravishingly sinful features that you can’t help but reproach yourself. You can still see his strikingly handsome, oval face that appears pleasantly smooth to the touch. Those temptingly luscious lips invade your mind, nearly causing your breath to hitch as you recall the inviting smirk they’d been pulled into. The strong jawline that dips forbiddingly deep by the curvature of his neck comes next, emanating an edge of fierceness that terrifies you to no end. And finally, a pair of haunting eyes framed by a crop of exotically night-shaded hair practically coaxes you into the abyss of his nightmare. A wave of shivers flood throughout your body as you recount the numerous times those eyes had found you, followed you, and beckoned to you in your lifetime.

     It is a nightmare he has driven you into: one that you have consistently denied and told yourself is not real, even now. Oh, but how real it is, a dark voice whispers in your mind. And as though a sudden ripple has disturbed the dark pool of your memories, a haunting vision awakens and emerges from its depths.