He met eyes with him. The man that had been following him for weeks. He thought no one had noticed but had anyone even considered the truth? even if it werent true. Truths should be told, not hidden. They all said it was in his head; psychologically tricking him. But that didnt change the fact that it felt real.
He turned his head and couldnt bare to look again. He saw the reflection of him in the window infront of him. This man, who seemed to look so real and yet impossible to be in the same place as alex, everywhere he went. There, watching, every moment; In cornwall, in america and, now, in london. Thats how he came to the conclusion that he was being followed, or worse. As this tall man in a long black coat looked familiar.
Alex kept on walking: past the river, past the warehouse where his uncle died, across the bridge and down an ally way. Pretending to not look so scared. But this wasnt the first time he had that feeling; of something about to jump on his back.
His walk turned into a run. He quickly picked his pace up, throwing bins to the floor, poles in the way and he reached the other side of the school perimeter. The fence which separated the abandoned mineworks/warehouses from the school garden. He climbed over, ran towards the back of his school which no student had ever been allowed. As it was "dangerous" but a good hiding place for alex and his friends during the day. He hadnt really anticipated having to run. Afterall, he didnt actually know if he had actually been followed the whole way. He kept running and running across the school feilds eventually coming to a stop behind a wall. Except he was still being followed. Time seemed to stop around him. Time had come.
