Where Is He?

That creepy laugh, I'll never forget it. It truly felt like somebody was driving nails right through both of my eardrums.

        The first time I heard it was in a dream; I couldn't see him then, and I can't see him now. He stalks me through the streets, I know he is there. I can feel him; his footsteps shaking the ground, that breath hot as the fires of Vesuvius on the back of my neck, and that greasy hair barely tickling my ear. Didn't matter if it was daylight or midnight, he would sneak up on me just to faintly whisper "I know you."

        The first twenty or so times, I was horrified. I would spin around, sometimes just as the footsteps started, and he wasn't there. He didn't dash behind a dumpster or conceal behind a car. Oh no, not him. He was just...gone. Even in the middle of the park on a sunny bluebird day, he would walk, whisper and tickle, but he wasn't there.

        Eventually, I realized that home was my sanctuary. Even though I heard him in my dreams, he never actually appeared in my house during my waking hours.

        Knowing I had a safe place gave me confidence, enough that the thought of him didn't even register in my concious brain no matter how heavy he made his footsteps, how loud he whispered, or how many hairs he used against my ears. He was just there, or not, and I got used to it. The dreams became comical and less often. As time passed, my fear lessened until I was no longer afraid.

        Every once in a while, his whispered "I know you" would surface in my head and I wondered who was this “there but not there” person, and how could he possibly know me? Now that my fear was gone, I had a passing curiosity about this…whatever he was.

        One day last week, I realized two things that didn't seem connected in the least. One was that my hair was ridiculously greasy even though I washed it the night before. I washed it again and it cleaned right up. The second thing was that I couldn't remember the last time I heard from my stalker? Visitor? Figment of my imagaination? I was getting even better about putting that creepy bastard out of my mind. I was living my best life, as they say. Except for the nasty hair; must have sweated hard in my sleep.

        I really didn't think I would turn into an old woman quite so quickly; a few days ago I caught sight of a few stray hairs on my chin. The wax was a bitch to rip off, but that was that. Smooth and soothed as Mr. Freeman's voice. Still no footsteps, no whisper, no tickle, even if I walked the city at two a.m. Damn, I'm getting good at this!

        Last night, I had the most unsettling dream; so bad I pissed myself, but somehow not the bed. That wasn't even the worst part. I jumped up and beelined for the toilet, ripping my pajama pants off and throwing them to the floor. Didn't quite make it and I ended up pissing all over the floor. I figured I could just wipe it with my pajama pants and do a thorough clean in the morning. I stood in front of the sink, waiting for the water to warm up when I heard a soft footstep behind me. I looked up into the mirror, but there was nothing there. I spun around, a little freaked out; nothing.

        As I turned back to the sink, I felt a soft tickle on my ear, almost like a stray hair resting against it. I brushed at my ear and was a little surprised to find no strands whatsoever. I started washing my hands and out of nowhere I heard a tinkling laugh. My skin started to crawl as I looked up to the mirror again, and was startled by the look of horror in my own eyes when a female voice whispered "I know you."