Self-discovery through Magic {On Hold}

6. Shame

I stop walking and turn around in place, carefully looking in every corner for the clothing that is too familiar to me now. I come to a sudden halt when I spot a tip of a black hoodie. A hoodie that carved its way into my memory over the past few days.

I start jogging after this mysterious person, who just happens to appear everywhere I happen to be. I start yelling,

"Hey you, hey why have you been following me?"

Right, when I'm about to reach the tip of his jacket, I trip and receive a good fall that responds with a thud in my stomach. I quickly lift my head up to see where did he go, and a feeling of disappointment marches up when I don't see him anywhere. I start to lift myself from the ground in distress that I let him slip away when my eyes catch a shadow turning in an alley. I brush myself off quickly and take off half sprinting.

What am I doing running after a stranger? What if his not the person I'm looking for. Anyone could be wearing a black hoodie. But if he didn't do anything why would he be running instead of confronting me and telling me that I'm crazy? Or something. Why do I even care? Just get this over with, if he's not the one then his not. If he is then there's a lot of question to be asked. 

I almost run past the alley, I force myself to stop and start walking.

"Hello, I know you're in here... Hello, why have you've been following me? Just step out and---" before I could finish my sentence, a pair of strong hands pulls me by my shoulders and not quite slamming to the wall, but it's not a soft slam. I try to get a look at him and my location, but we're surrounded by darkness; which is weird, because it's not close to being dark out, at least I assume. I gulp the huge lump in my throat and gather all my courage and say,

"Why are you following me?" but my words barely come in a whisper. 

His hands are still placed on my shoulders, and they are slowly becoming warm; that's a feeling I haven't felt in a really long time, warmth. I shake my head, and once more gather all my energy and say, "why are you following me?!" this time it sounds the way I strive it to sound. He let his hands fall from my shoulder and the warm spot where his hands were, suddenly becomes cold. Once again, I'm washed with the feeling of discouragement. I know he's still standing in front of me because I can feel his eyes burning holes through me.

"Who are you?" I say barely over a whisper.

I hear him shift his weight from one foot to another; almost like he was deciding whether he should answer my question or not. When I think he's not going to answer me, he says,

"I don't think I can answer that,"

His voice causes chills to race down my spine and goosebumps to wake. His voice is deep and almost defiant. I strain my eyes to focus on him to get some information on his appearance but I fail.

"What do you mean by you can't answer that question?" I say my voice surprisingly calm like we're having a normal conversation. A few seconds of silence passes and he says,

"You'll soon find out,"

Unexpectedly, my thoughts who were asleep comes awake and now flying around and bouncing around everywhere. Finally, one thought comes to focus. It was more of a question that I hope is a negative,

"Are you going to kill me?" I say with my voice no longer calm but a little shaky. 

He takes a while. For some reason, I can feel him smiling, and that made me feel warm again. But the feeling disappears and fear takes over again.

"No I'm not going to kill you, but the opposite,"

I go deep within my thoughts and calm them only to focus on what he said, but the opposite.