The Man on The Corner


Jaxar Burpo  

   I saw him every morning. Rain or shine he always stood at the same street corner. As I stepped outside for my morning walk, my mind started to wonder. I turned my head and the man seemed to be staring at me. Fear slowly built up in my chest as he started moving closer and his face became clear. I blinked and not even the second my eyes opened again; he was right in my face. His cold, dead, pure black eyes locked with mine, which were glazed with terror.  

“I know what you did.” His hot breath hit my face causing a chill to run up my spine. 

 His words felt like daggers. What did I do? I gasped. Just as I looked down the man was pulling a knife from my stomach. I looked up and he was crying, only they were not tears but thick black liquid.

“Who Am I?” He asked demandingly. His face became distorted.

“Who. Am. I.” With those words, he plunged his knife into my chest. Tears streamed down my face as I became unsteady. Before I fell, the man screamed something I could not comprehend. Thump.  

   I woke up in a panic. It was a dream. I sat up and my eyes made their way towards the bedroom door. There stood a shadow. A shadow of a man with a crazed smile. 

“You’ll pay for real now.”