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Out of the ordinary
As you passed by the abandoned complex for the third time that week, you saw a man standing in front of it. For the third time that week, he was standing on the same spot. He wasn't exactly dressed for Winter in the city, but he showed no signs of stepping aside from his reserved spot. He was staring intently at the store, his body shaking with what must've been a freezing sensation. It looked as if he was waiting for someone. A million things crossed your mind. He's a homeless man looking for shelter. He's the previous owner of the abandoned building and is looking to buy the place again.
You had reached the other side of the street, and with every step you took, your imagination took another in a wild direction, each and every one crazier than the other. By the time you'd turned around the corner, you were convinced that the man was some sort of wizard, looking to open a portal and regain his powers. Or maybe he's a serial killer, planning his next victim. As you kept walking and headed towards the grocery store in front of you, the man slipped from your mind, and you lost yourself in the mundane shopping.
He didn’t even cross your mind again until the next day, when you took the same route to go to a bar. It was nighttime, and you had agreed to go out with your friends. You stuck your hands deeper in your pockets as another gust of wind passed and froze in place when you saw the same man standing in front of the building.
He’s definitely CIA or FBI or some sort of secret agent. He’s investigating some shady shit, that’s for sure. You’d be giddy with the prospect of encountering some sort of adventure in your mundane life, but realization that you had to walk by the man to get to your friends sank in. At night, the streets are empty and only the man and you remained. You gathered whatever courage you had left and proceeded.
You were passing right beside him and barely managed to keep a panic attack from rising when suddenly, a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed your wrist. Your heart was beating intensely and images of you getting mugged or worse appeared relentlessly in your mind. The man’s hand was cold, and his eyes were unyielding.
“I want to go home. Please don’t let them take me!” the man suddenly said, in a low and gravely voice, almost a whisper. It sounded like he hadn’t spoken in days.
He’s crazy. That was the first thing that popped into your head. He’s crazy and he’s going to hurt me.
“I’m- I’m sorry, sir. I can’t help you.” You pried your wrist away from his hand with a strange easiness and didn’t doubt on running towards the opposite direction. You’d barely taken two steps forward when you heard a shriek and, against every fiber in your being, stopped dead in your tracks and turned around.
The man was nowhere to be seen, but the doors of the previously abandoned building were now open. You’d take a guess it wasn’t abandoned now. That didn’t matter anymore. You ran straight back home. You texted your friends and made up some excuse as to why you wouldn’t be joining them that night. As you prepared to go to sleep, you could feel phantom fingers still clutching at your wrist.
When you woke up, a new sense of calmness washed over you. Suddenly, last night’s events didn’t seem that panic inducing after all. You even decided you would call 911 next time you saw the man. It was clear he needed help. However, the smile that’d been on your face all morning as you prepared breakfast quickly faded, after hearing the morning news from your laptop, propped up on the breakfast bar.
Apparently, a few weeks ago, a patient suffering from amnesia had escaped from custody at the hospital. He was found and identified later that morning once forensics had been called. The Fire Department had called them after finding a body inside the store that had been burned to the ground.
“He didn’t know who he was. He was looking for someone. He just wanted to go home.” The person on site stated. He looked tired. “We see cases like this all the time. Nothing out of the ordinary.” And that was that. (749 words)
