Grey light came through the window, making the pure white walls seem to glow. The steady beeping was unsettling. It gave an air of uncertainty. It was almost like they were numbered, only you never knew when they were going to run out.

A woman with a tear-stained face sat near the bed, watching and hoping as any mother would do. The nurses knew her as a regular now, and would let her come and go as she pleased without ever stopping her with questions. The employees understood what she must be going through.

The door opened and the woman turned her head in a slow manner, almost like she was expecting the doctor’s entry.

“Mrs. Jackson,” the doctor acknowledged. If he had a hat, it would have undoubtedly been tipped. She nodded in a friendly gesture, welcoming him and accepting his presence.

“How is she, Dr. Jowers?”

“Same as always. Steady heartbeat but no sign of consciousness. I’ve run some tests and it seems that it’s not as bad as once thought.” Mrs. Jackson sat up straight in her chair, expecting good news but bracing herself for the worst. Dr. Jowers continued, “She’s not in a coma,” Mrs. Jackson relaxed. “It looks like she’s in what we call ‘conversion reaction.’ It’s a lot like a coma in that the person seems to be asleep for a long while, but a conversion reaction typically takes place after the subject experiences psychological trauma. What happened before she-well-you know.”

Mrs. Jackson took a deep breath and spoke with what some would call bravery. “We were driving home from the fair. It was dark and the road… wasn’t in the best condition. It wound through thick forests and Avery was just a tiny bit nervous. We got a flat tire and had to call for assistance. While my husband and I were talking to the service men, when they had finally arrived, Avery was in the car and, for all I know, could have been staring out at the forest.

“I was the first one to hear anything. It was like a low moaning, but I couldn’t describe it in any earthly context. It started to pick up decibels and soon everyone was looking around for the source. I saw Avery’s face through the window. It was one of pure terror. Anyone would have to be insane not to be the least bit frightened. The men told us to get into the truck, which James did with little hesitation. I was struggling to get back to the van for Avery, but the men promised me she would be just as safe in there as we would be in the back of the towing van. I would have gone back, I should have. I d-don’t know why I didn’t.” Tears started to bud from the corners of her eyes. She continued. “Then, we were pushed into the van. I heard tree limbs snap, leaves rustle, and the crunch of claws on gravel. All I thought about in this moment was my own safety. Why didn’t I think about Avery!?” She began to sob. Dr. Jowers walked beside Mrs. Jackson and put his hand on her shoulder.

“That’s all I need to know. Thank you, Marie.” The doctor went to the bedside, and Mrs. Jackson continued to sit while tears rushed down her cheeks. Eventually Dr. Jowers left the room. Mrs. Jackson sat still, watching over her child. She would sit for the next few hours then would be forced to leave the hospital due to strict visiting hours. Every night when she left, her heart sighed and dread rained through her body, almost as if she were crying inside herself.

Who knew how long Avery would lie there, unresponsive and quiet, sleeping in her endless nightmare? “Sleep well, Avery,” her mother whispered. “Good night.”

Days passed and weeks came and went. I didn’t see the man for a while, and I was glad for that. He had a curious aura. It was dark, but I couldn’t distinguish any particular adjective for it. It was almost… undead. I know it seems strange, but that’s exactly how it was.

I didn’t want to think about it, so I just put him out of my head. Of course, I used the story at sleep-overs and campfires, but I twisted the details to make it more bearable on my part. By this time, all my friends and acquaintances knew what I had seen. The most popular form of acknowledgment of these facts was passing it on. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire town knew it by now. Who knew, maybe in 20 years, it would be the new urban myth!

School passed normally, with projects and such. 5th hour was fine, and we did more tedious projects. Eventually, we got started on a new project that made everyone groan when it was first introduced.

“You will be paired in groups and work on this three days in class,” Mr. Clemons droned. Apparently, he had just gotten over a bad cough, and his voice was gravelly and monotone, making all the information he spat out that much more awful. Sadly, he continued. “I want 10 pages, size 12 font, mind you, and it is due by Friday.” How did he expect us to get more than 3 pages every day in class? The work ethic in the class was extremely poor, at best. This project wasn’t going to help with motivation.

“I will now read out the list of partners: Justin Moore and Tiffany Glass, Lisa Folk and Kristen Mann, Bruce Wallace and Josephine Plaque, Avery Jackson,” I held my breath, “and Norma Phillips.” I relaxed a little bit. At least I had someone who could pull their weight.

Mr. Clemons continued reading the list, but I knew I didn’t have to listen with extreme intent any more. It came as a relief to do so. His voice had gotten even more hoarse and insufferable as the hour progressed. I glanced at Norma from across the room and she shot me a cruel glance. I sighed. Norma would certainly do her part of the project, but I hadn’t said anything about her being cooperative.

Finally, Mr. Clemons finished the list, to the relief of us all. Unfortunately, he needed to finish telling us information about the essay. “Now, please get with your partners. Once you do, I will tell you more.” The room filled with the clatter of chairs and the dissonance of children’s speech. It became quiet once more and Mr. Clemons prepared to speak again. I braced myself.

“Now, the essay is to be on the Oregon Trail and how it affected what society we live in today. I want a list of resources. Do in-depth research, and cite in MLA format with annotations.” The class groaned. Yet another project that was practically impossible. I was going to enjoy this.

When the class ended, we all scrambled for the door, almost afraid that Mr. Clemons would add on more to the assignment. In the hallway, I pushed through the walls of children, trying to catch up to Norma to talk the project over. I eventually convinced her to come over to my house that afternoon. She ended the conversation with a ‘whatever,’ an eye roll, and then she walked away.

After school, I stood in the soccer field to wait for her. She trudged over impatiently and I tried to greet her angry attitude with a friendly smile, but this was one frown that couldn’t be flipped. I led the way and we walked in silence for the first little bit.

I walked with my head down to avoid conversation with her. While I walked in this cautious position, I saw shoes that were walking at our same pace across the street. I looked up, curious and slightly frightened. My blood ran cold. It was the man again. Now he was not only walking, but he was staring at me with eyes that made the night seem blazing. “Norma,” I whispered. The warmth of the day was stripped off and the sun seemed to fade. All I could perceive was that man, staring at me. Why was he doing that? I didn’t even know him and yet, he seemed angry with me. “Norma.” Another futile attempt at speech, but she heard me.

“What?” she snapped.

“Look to the left.” She moaned and turned her head.

“Why? What are you so scared about?” she asked harshly.

“Don’t you see his eyes? Can’t you see the way he’s watching me?” I looked at her with completely open eyes, frightened and confused.

She laughed and then stopped, this time with ernest concern. “Avery, there’s no one there.” I gawked at her and she just stared at me. The day became a completely black void. I could almost feel it sucking at my happiness. The man smiled and put his finger to his lips. Then, he turned a corner and disappeared from my sight.

We finally arrived home, but I could barely think about the topic at hand. I may have worked, but if I had, I don’t remember it. I was scared. There was no other way to explain it. This feeling was utter and complete fear. I was scared for the future and what might happen. I was afraid of the past, also. How did this man know me? What would cause him to look at me with that much deceit and hatred?

Norma left, but I barely noticed. The evening passed, but I didn’t realize it. I was frantic. For the entire night, I was doing research. Not on the Oregon Trail, but on the illusions of the human mind. I needed to know if this was common, and if I was the only one. I found many sites, but none would tell me anything about a man with eyes blacker than night and a scar that almost glowed red. Exhaustion got the better of me. I stopped the excited motions and started to droop.

I tried to fall asleep, but the man haunted my mind every time I attempted to. Not only that, I realized, but there was a presence. It wasn’t like someone in the room. It was as if they were with me, like they were part of me. Now that I thought about this feeling, I came to the conclusion that it had been there for many nights before, only I had never noticed. The only reason I did now was because of the day’s events. I couldn’t tell if the presence was good or bad, but it was there. It would always be there.

Just before I let sleep take hold, I heard my mother and father talking in the living room.

“She didn’t touch her food and she hasn’t talked to me all night.” My mother’s voice was filled with worry.

“I know. I’ve talked to Dr. Jowers about it. She has an appointment with in him in less than a month.” My father’s tone matched that of my mother’s.

“Will that be soon enough? I’m afraid of how quickly this will progress.”

“I think it is. Now, you were about to tell me something?”

“Yes, about her.” I listened with intent. “ Today, after her friend left, she ran to her bedroom and started tapping her desk. She kept doing it for hours.” My mother paused, and I tried to prompt her speech with my mind. “I peered through her doorway when I thought that she was done, she looked like she was reading something with great attention. James, it was like she was typing, but there was nothing there."

The days passed, and my existence became bleak. I could only think of the man and the fear that he inflicted inside of me. Speaking of which, he appeared more and more often. His attitude morphed. Before it was just fearful, but now, it was almost murderous. His eyes became even more black, and when I was courageous enough to look over, I realized his scar was even more blood-red than when I first looked at his face. Days passed in a haze, and all I could think about was the man. All I could feel was that nightmarish presence. I concluded that it must be evil.

Every day when walking home, I saw him, and now I had seen him a few times in the morning. Not only the frequent appearances scared me, but he got closer. Instead of turning off the street and continuing down the lane, he would cross the street and follow behind me for a ways. When I would look back, the sidewalk was void of all my peers. I didn’t see that they were all across the street, looking at me warily.

Every night I would sit at my desk, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. No one would talk to me, and even Mr. Clemons seemed to stay away from me. The man was still there, every single day.

A month went by. Now, instead of being more fearful, I actually began to relax when I saw him. He was a reminder of routine and a sort of comfort now took its place in his aura. Every night, I would try to sleep, but I was almost excited to see him again.

The school year was practically at an end, and all things were becoming more sunny. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way that the sun would glint and the way that the birds would sing. I found it stupid. It was too cliche and cheesy for it to be real life, so I despised it.

On a day like that, the phantom man was standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I wanted to get through, to get out of the sun. He was smiling. He breathed and opened his mouth like he was about to say something. Before he could, I said, “Excuse me sir. I need to get by.” Again, he opened his mouth and took a breath. “Sorry, my mother says not to talk to strange men.” I passed by him and he followed me like he did so often.

I could see his shadow. He opened his jacket and drew out a slender object slowly and gingerly. I kept an eye on his shadow, and he was getting closer and closer. At first he was only 10 feet behind me, but now he was more like 5 and closing in.

Then, a block from my house, I felt a stabbing pain being pushed through my back. The blackness that had been my world for so long faded. In fact, everything around me faded. All there was now was a light that swallowed all existence. The light brought a sort of happiness that I would call ecstasy. It provided a sense of complete warmth and made everything in the world seem fine.

It was strange. In this moment, I could hear my mother screaming, faintly and muffled, but it was like she was right next to me. What was she saying? I couldn’t quite make it out. Wait, yes, I could hear it now.

“Doctor! Oh my God! Come quick. Please. Anyone! Oh my God! She’s bleeding!”