I Met A Man That Wasn't There Novels & Stories

Everywhere. By morning, my eyes are red and burning. I didn’t sleep at all. I check my phone. No missed calls. No messages. I laugh softly. “Not like I expected him to call,” I whisper, lying to myself. After a bath, I get dressed and head to the grocery store. Big mistake. Every man suddenly has his face. Tall man? Clinton. Short man? Clinton. Bald man? Somehow also Clinton. My brain short-circuits. A sales assistant is talking to me, but all I hear is…

“Fancy meeting you in the slum of all places. Downgrading?” “How do you know me?” I asked, crossing my arms. I remembered now; he was the same guy I had met at the scene of the old man I revived. But now it made sense that our encounter at the phone store wasn’t coincidental. More like he’d been stalking me.

Indeed I was right, the man was standing a few steps away from me. I increased my speed and almost started running but the footsteps also moved faster and started getting closer. Just by my luck, I forgot to charge my phone as well. I turned around one more time to see the man but no one was there. As soon as I turned again to continue walking I bumped into someone, a small scream escaped my lips thinking it must be him. "Are you okay?" "Damien?" "What happened?" I looked at the empty path where the strange man was once standing, "I was.....a man with beanie was following me..."

I laugh and follow her, grabbing my purse on the way and locking the door of our suite. We take the elevator to the first floor, but just as the doors open, I realize I left my phone on the bed. Before I can tell Rosita, who’s already rushing out, the doors almost close, and a man slips through the gap and slams right into me. Out of nowhere, a wave of déjà vu hits me like a truck. And the fact that I know this man makes me wonder if I’m losing my damn mind.

I did not even notice that we had gone way over the time limit that she had booked. From then on, she would book me every two or three days. We started talking more and more. I began finding our conversations very engaging and started looking forward to her appointments. I even enjoyed our chats. One day, she suggested meeting up in person. I was curious about her. My curiosity got the better of me, and I agreed to meet her. I showed up at the coffee shop, filled with curiosity to see her. As I sat down, I felt nervous. The image of Grace dancing on her livestream kept popping up in my mind.

But if he was here, then he knew the connection between Brent and me, and that could mean a lot of things I didn't even want to ponder at the moment. Then the weirdest thing happened. As I got closer, the person that I had so clearly seen wasn't there anymore. I didn't even know what to think. How could he just disappear before my very eyes? I kept staring around, looking for any sign of him, but the compound was empty. It was as though he had never been here. "I didn't know you were coming," Brent exclaimed, as he saw me through the window. "Babe, come inside."

It must have been the reason why I woke up. “God, it's hot in here,” I remark, wagging one hand close to my face. “Oh, so you're still alive,” comes a cold and unfriendly response from the man. “Didn't realize you're still there.” “You know what's funny? The idea that you and I just met, and you haven't seen my face and I haven't seen yours, yet I can actually jump to a conclusion that you're basically the most annoying person I have ever met in my entire life,” I tell the man.

To just have fun with a woman who knew nothing about him and never call again and suddenly months later show up as one of her biggest clients. "I don't know." was all I could bring myself to say and it was the truth. The man I had met in Ibiza smiled easily, teased me and even made jokes but the man I met today was all sharp edges, stone cold. How can someone exhibit opposite attributes so well. Was he bipolar? Does he even remember me or was it just a holiday thing for him. "Hey, um I'll like to talk to you without prying ears outside, is that okay." I whisper.

But the dread that washes over me, when I realize that I would chance upon him and it would require me to strike a conversation with him, cannot be measured. After all it’s his house, he could be anywhere. So as quickly as the initial thought came, it’s just as quick to disappear. After a few minutes of wallowing in my own despair, I sweep the blankets away from my face, enough to peek out and survey the room once again. The bright light stings my eyes, but I still find myself staring out. “I think you should start leaving”, says the voice of a man who literally appeared out of nowhere. I have no recollection of him entering, no memory of the sound of the door or the thud of his feet on the

I didn’t answer because I realized the man standing in front of me wasn’t the father I remembered. He was someone who had come back from the dead and wanted to drag me back to the grave with him.