I was walking home from the store in town. Why my parents had to move us so far out of town is beyond me. I’m not being dramatic, it’s 7 miles into town. I don’t need anything that bad, but my mom insisted I pick up my brothers medicine like he doesn’t have legs. He’s just missing an arm from that tractor accident, still completely mobile.

I was about 4 miles out of town, on my way home and there was this little boy on the other side of the road walking the same direction. Not many people live this far out, none that I don’t know anyways. He looked to be 8 or 9. He was very creepy looking. I am not sure why little boys with slicked black hair look so creepy, but they do. Every time I’d look at him or stop he’d look to the sky or start walking slower until I went back to normal.

At about a mile and a half from home he started veering towards my side of the road. Bad enough he was trailing me this whole time, I don’t need him any closer so I yelled over: ‘what do you want’. He responded only with silence looking away, so I picked up my pace. And up went his pace as well. At about a ⅓ of a mile from home I started running and he paced behind me a bit until I tripped over a rock and fell flat on my face. Not a graceful or easily recovered fall. My wrist was sore and my knees scraped up.

When I looked up his hand was extended out in front of me with the other slightly raised. You forgot your change.