I roll my eyes at my empty cup, the sharp taste of coffee still lingering. Each sip had dragged my mind into a spiral, the bitterness so intense it felt almost poisonous. Yet sometimes pain is what pulls us back to reality. With every swallow, I returned from the kingdom of doubts.
Doubts of what? You might wonder. Perhaps I'm just ungrateful, you'd think. I'm sitting in one of the most unique cafes downtown, facing a still lake shrouded in mist. Children run and laugh around me, their joy echoing in the calm air. Everything seems perfect. So why do I feel suspended, trapped in some fourth dimension, losing all sense of time?
I stop, forcing myself to sip again. The bitterness radiates through me. My eyes drift to the cars outside, engines roaring, speeding past like they're traveling through time. If only I could move on like them.
I'm sorry, dear reader, for my confusion. But I need to name this feeling—the sudden rush in my stomach, cheeks warming as memories from last night crash back: the room filled with pictures of us, of him, of everywhere we've been. A gesture once thoughtful now unsettles me. A cold creeps into my limbs, and I feel like prey suddenly aware of a predator. My heart races; adrenaline floods my veins. But from what? Where is the danger?
And then I realize—he's staring at me, into my soul. The man sitting at the table next to mine. A stranger…yet somehow familiar, as if he had been following me here.
My hands shake as I reach for my purse, murmuring a soft melody to calm myself. I grab my wallet, leave the money and a generous tip, and when I look back, he's gone. Relief floods me. My heart slows; I feel safer, at least for now. I stand and make my way to the exit. No sign of him. Maybe I imagined it. Perhaps I was just too tired, too preoccupied with my job application, with life. I wear a gentle, soft smile and push my chair back.
Then a voice stops me cold.
"It's you," the man says, his teeth grinding, voice dark and demonic—something from a nightmare.
"I have found you." He leans closer, breath brushing my cheek. My instincts scream danger. I step back, voice shaking. "I do not know you, sir. You must be—"
A sharp bang explodes near my ear as he slams his fist on the table. The buzz in my ear makes me dizzy.
"It is you… you—" His words dissolve into a growl of hatred. "I'llendyou…"
I freeze. Survival instincts clash with fear. My legs won't move. All around me, people stare. A waitress approaches. I try to speak, to tell him he's mistaken. He grips my arms, pressure building, pain flaring. More waiters arrive, trying to hold him back, but he is too strong.
Finally, my body decides. I break free, racing toward the stairs. I stumble but keep moving, fear pushing me forward. I burst out the door, into the street, gasping for air. The bus station looms ahead. I spot my phone missing, but don't stop. He runs toward me, but I reach the bus just in time. The doors close, the engine roars to life. Relief washes over me—he's gone.
For now.