Friday, April 29, 2011

Getting Home

I don't remember much after my first physical encounter with Him, but I do remember walking home to my apartment.
I was holding my arm and sluggishly walking down the uneven sidewalk. I took deep, heavy breathes. My eyes were tearing up from the pain in my arm. I didn't seem to care that it was blurring my vision, I just wanted to get home.
My mouth was dry, as I tried wetting my lips. I looked around me, I kept feeling like He was still there, following me or something. Even though all I had remembered last was tasting the pavement. Of course the rain decided to come, though it was relaxing. The drops slowly came down in a chill and soon consumed my surroundings. It soon blended in with my tears as I got to my apartment door.
I let go of my shoulder as I fumbled my pockets for my keys, but found none. I turned the door knob to find it open. Relieved I pushed the door open with my bad arm, not thinking. The pain struck through my arm as His face flashed into my thoughts...
I stood there for a bit with the door open in front of me as I questioned if I was sane.
For someone who had just had a couple hours knocked out of their memory, and almost killed by something unexplainable, I seemed to be doing okay.
I wondered if I was really alive or just living a bad dream...
A cold burst of wind woke me form the thought process, and I entered the dark apartment.

Still wondering what happened earlier...

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