The Long, Dark Road

It was just to be a short walk. I just wanted to cool my nerves. The fight I'd had with my mother was still raging in my head. I slipped on my shoes and pulled jacket over my sweater. A walk in the cold should calm me down. 1

        I stepped out and planned the route in my head. It was just a short walk. The cold sent a chill up my spine and I shivered in the northeast wind. The air smelt of salt and it looked like rain, of course it always looks like rain in Seattle. Just a short walk. 2

        As I started my way down the street, I remembered that I hadn't told anyone that I was leaving. I was sure one of our many "guests" had seen me go. I kind of laughed at the thought. They were more intruders than "guests". I distinctly remember the pale glow of the moon through the dark clouds and the lifeless shadows of the seemingly lifeless trees. The thought never crossed my mind that it should seem strange for the trees not to sway in the wind that chilled me to the bone. 3

        It was only to be a short walk, but how did it seem so long? I ran my eyes along the dark houses and realized I wasn't anywhere near its end. I never thought how strange it should seem that no house had a single light on. It suddenly occurred to me how quiet everything was. The only sound I heard was the plop-plop of my shoes and my heart pounding in my ears. 4

It was to be such a short walk. I remember how I had only planned on being out a few minutes, but how long it seemed. I noticed something had changed, but the quiet darkness of the night made it difficult to place it. I slowed my pace and jumped at the sound of some gravel rolling down the slight hill. I thought for a moment and I remembered that I was not on a hill. As I continued my walk, I became increasingly paranoid with each step. It was only supposed to be a short walk to calm my nerves, to cool down. 5

        It was so dark and yet how sharply everything stood out. Every dimension and every edge was clear and distinct. My footsteps sounded loudly on the pavement. The air bit at my ears and the wind tore at my face. I could almost hear the first drop of rain hit the dark road; almost see it break into tiny droplets. Again, I located where I was and determined that it would be shorter to turn around and go back rather than to continue on my current route. 6

I kept my eyes on the ground as I turned. I took a few steps forward and thought about how long my short walk really was. It seemed to be hours before I looked ahead of me. "Why should his eyes be so red?" I thought. He and I were the only things living and that thought burdened me. He wanted to be the only thing living, breathing, moving. I not only noticed the fire of his eyes, but something else stood out. 7

        "What is he holding? Why does it shine so?" I can recall the sound of a thousand cannons going off in my ears and my confusion over what the shiny thing might be. I woke up eight days later in the intensive care unit. I told my story to the police, just as I told you. They dismissed it as a simple hate crime mixed with slight insanity on my part. 8

        That very night, as I was realizing how strange and lifeless the trees had looked and how dark the houses were, I had a visitor. It was a man in a dark coat with the hood over his face. "Maybe your short walk was a bit too long." He said to me as he pulled back the hood to reveal his red eyes. 9

        "Or maybe it's the other way around." I responded completely calm. I saw he was holding the same something shiny.10