Band Class Vol. 2

The Shadow That Lurks Around...

I returned back home, changing routes making sure to be safe. Now taking a route directly south of the school, which was laned by suburban homes and a silent walk commenced. I would now need to go south and then take a right turn, passing by more homes and a large, green field with cows, horses and other barn animals. At the edge of the field was a small, cabin like home that was created of dark, rotten-like wood. It had no windows, and the door was equally obscure and menacing as the home itself.

I passed by it and kept following the path that sided by the street that was busy with passing cars, luckily for a natural paranoid such as I, the sidewalks were empty, generally speaking, and I had a peaceful walk home with my black backpack slung over my shoulders.

I slowly walked up the apartment stairs, which were once painted black. They were now old and rusty, the obsidian colored paint was peeling off and revealing the oxygenated iron under it, moss and grass was even beginning to grow within the wooden panels that held up the steps themselves. My hand laying on the rough, black railing, I ever so carefully ascended from the bottom of the steps up, reaching the platform where my apartment was.

I reached for the gold-bathed doorknob and twisted it, I pulled the door open and set only my left foot onto the carpet that greeted those who enteted. I scanned the area with my dark brown eyes and saw nothing.
I gave a sigh of relief and threw my backpack behind the door, where I usually placed it when I returned from school. Taking out my phone, I made my way to my couch, again sitting and browsing the media, awaiting my mother's return. But then it occured to me the terrifying, liberating, yet psychotic thought.

What if they never return?

What if my family was devoured by whatever that shadow was, the thing that followed me after school. I quickly jolted up from my couch and stood there, cautious. My heart pounding, my neck and arms feeling stiff, my legs shaking. Dark thoughts began to harass my brain, assaulting it with a violence I couldn't comprehend.

I picked up my backpack again and ran outside of my apartment, skidding down the steps as fast as I could.

"Augh!" I shouted in pain, as I tripped over a step and fell to down 3 steps with the weight of my backpack. I scraped my forearm a bit, but got back up and looked around, embarrassed. I looked at my neighbor, the one who greeted me this morning, opening his door and stepping towards me.

He wore a blue suit jacket with matching pants and smart shoes, two perfect and clean brown loafers. His black tie ragged along, tucked inside his jacket.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking at me in the eyes with a slight smile on his face, with a streak of his blond hair falling down. He had a charming voice and he was in all honesty, attractive.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks." I quickly muttered, stuttering on all my words. I tried to get up but he placed his hand on my knee.

"Don't get up," he blurted. "I see the scrape on your arm, I'll get a disinfectant." He suggested, getting up from his kneeling position over me and returned to his home. I sat there, waiting for the blond man to return with his first aid kit. It wasn't long before the door to his home creaked along it's hinges, but it didn't open all the way, only enough. Enough for me to see a shadowed face in the house, covered by the door, staring at me intently.

It then opened all the way and the man came back out, with the midly jovial face he wore earlier. He paced towards me, holding a white box with a red cross in the center, he held it with his left hand with a handle. He sat by my side and asked to see my scarped arm, taking out a bottle of blue fluid and a gauze. He bathed the gauze pad in the disinfectant and gently patted it, rubbed it along my scrape, with the upmost sensual emotion on his face. I felt uncomfortable and using my Blue Neighborhood, I knocked over the disinfectant. Luckily, regular people couldn't see Stands so he was bewildered.