Chapter 2 The Persecutor

Anna

One by one, the employees have started to head home after completing all orders and working through to the very end. Today was one of those days when we had the most work to do, but for some reason, by some unmistakable magic, we managed to have everything packed up in the shortest period of time. Maybe we were lucky, or maybe we just put in a little bit more work than was necessary. Therefore, it was somewhat true that some people do, in fact, flourish under pressure—and all of my coworkers could attest to that. I said farewell to Shelly and made sure she knew again about the knife and pepper spray she had put in my bag for my protection before leaving the bakery and making my way to my flat. Although it wasn't quite nighttime, Shelly was worried about my safety even though everyone around me was as harmless as pigeons—calm, quiet, and unobtrusive. I spent my first month in Shelly's guest room after moving to this little town without a place to stay for weeks. But ultimately, I was able to rent a place to live after landing a job in her bakery. It was small and not very fancy or decorated, but it had all the extra amenities that many would want, so all in all, it was a nice and comfortable place; at the very least, it provided me with a safe haven where I wouldn't have to worry about anyone bothering me or invading my privacy. For now, things were just right. I was content—I was okay—but the losses I'd suffered in the past had been so great that I couldn't truly say. Just ok. I didn't know if I really wanted to be happy or if I was really comfortable with keeping merely okay. But where could I go to find happiness, even if that's what I wanted? Would I ever locate it? Maybe not. Therefore, it would be silly of me to take off for a pointless quest, and I wasn't going to make the same error and let the merciless circle of life another chance to rob me of everything—including the final hope. I let out a quiet sigh, shaking my thoughts away. I was trying to keep my mind from wandering into the constant darkness that was someplace deep inside my head, so I was walking quickly on the concrete walkway and listening to the sound of my heels clicking. Not much of the road was deserted. There were lots of people around, and a lot of them were probably nice old couples enjoying an evening stroll while taking in the view of the sunset, which had formed itself into a canopy over the gorgeous sky that had become pink while everyone commented on how beautiful it was. I felt so alone in this crowd that didn't even surround me or ask me to stay submerged in it, but there were so many things to get involved in and forget the sorrow that lived somewhere, tying itself into knots I didn't have the power to undo but could consider invisible and move on in life. I started walking again, a little quicker than before. However, as soon as I got beyond the larger people, I noticed an odd feeling. I hear very faint footsteps behind me. I then realised that I knew who it was because it had been happening for about three months. He was literally following me everywhere, day or night, from the grocery store to the bakery, and he was not leaving a single area. Yes, it has become routine. He didn't follow me every day, of course, but he was there for the most part. And up until now, I hadn't made the decision to confront him as all I wanted was to avoid my horrible history; after all, he was a part of it, just like everyone else. However... I had no idea why I no longer wanted to appear as though I had forgotten about it. Maybe I got sick of him following me around every day and leaving me wondering the same thing over and over: What did he want? Like every previous time, I kept pretending not to see him when I woke up, but today I was holding out for the right opportunity to act. I caught a glimpse of his partially exposed face in the rearview mirror as I drove by, partially obscured by the black hat he had on over his long, black coat. Yes, he was moving slowly and with such composure that anyone would miss his movements if they weren't paying close enough attention. On the other hand, overconfidence was somewhat justified and caution was completely absent. Ironically, he did not seem to doubt his stalking abilities, as I could see from the corner of my eye that I was staring at his reflection. Again, I had to face him even though talking to him was the last thing I wanted to do. He had been doing the same thing repeatedly for the past three months. Furthermore, it was definitely not the greatest thing in the world to have someone observe every move you made. I didn't want diversions; I wanted peace. The moment I turned around, he quickly fled in the opposite direction, turning his back on me as soon as he could. I had gradually slowed down until I was standing motionless as I approached the quieter side of the road. "Wait!" I raised my voice loud enough for him to hear me, and based on how his legs abruptly screeched to a stop and he instantly froze, it was obvious that he did hear me. He did not respond, even though he appeared to be trapped at his spot and was only partially locked in. I resisted the urge to skip all of these and go straight home as I took a few steps in his direction, but it was necessary. I wanted to know why he was pursuing me and that it was to carry out an order from that one specific person that I hoped to never see again in this life—and possibly not even in the afterlife. For a momentary period yet profusely, I had thought that I'd be needing to ask him to turn around judging by the way he made no sign of movement and stood dead still like ice. The last thing I wanted was to wait for him to flee so that he could carry out his daily responsibilities the following day in silence and too cautiously for me to notice. If that had happened, all I would have been able to do was worry about it nonstop, which would have completely destroyed any mental stability I had managed to regain. It turned out that I didn't actually need to ask him for anything. Alone, he performed the honours, removing his hat and turning slowly to face me. His eyes were wary, I could catch the light rush in his breathing and see the barely noticeable tremble of his lips as he fought to say something. God knew what he wanted to say, but I didn't really wish to hear anything other than the answer to my question. Just like he had done me a favour by turning around by himself without having to ask for it, I did one on him too and that was by letting the next question roll off my tongue, saving him from suffering under my judgemental gaze and fighting the silence all alone. "What are you doing here, Aaron?"