Day 8: The Mysterious Boy

Friday

Something strange happened today.

It felt like something I’ve seen before, but I couldn’t remember where, like a dream that fades as soon as you wake up. The more I try to figure it out, the harder it is to make sense of. It’s like the world’s messing with me, or maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks. Maybe it’s the illness, or maybe I’m just... losing it.

Mom gave me another list today—groceries to bring after my office work was over. Milk, veggies, bread. Nothing exciting. She always has these little tasks for me, like keeping busy is going to make everything better. Like normal things can make up for the things I can’t do anymore.

The sun was setting when I walked home from my office which is basically a 20 min walk. The light was golden, too golden, like it was trying too hard to be perfect. It made everything look a little too bright, too still.

I was halfway home when I noticed it—the sound of footsteps behind me. Soft, almost hesitant. I turned around, but the street was empty.

I shook it off and kept walking.

But the feeling didn’t go away. The air felt colder somehow.

That’s when I saw him.

A boy, sitting on the curb ahead.

He couldn’t have been more than twelve. His clothes were worn and frayed, the edges of his shirt curling as if it had been through one too many washes. His knees were drawn up, his arms resting limply on them, and his head tilted slightly as he looked at me.

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No—through me.

I should’ve felt concern, maybe even pity, but all I felt was unease.

“Hey,” I called out, my voice sounding smaller than I’d intended. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer.

As I stepped closer, his face came into focus—hollow cheeks, dark circles under eyes that were too large, too knowing for a kid his age.

“You forgot me,” he said, his voice low and calm. His eyes locked onto mine, and I swear I felt something —his eyes were suddenly glowing.

I froze.

I mean, I really froze. Like the world paused just for a second, and in that instant, it was like he knew something I didn’t. He knew everything—about me

“Excuse me?”

I stammered, my throat suddenly dry. I couldn’t help it. The bags of groceries felt heavy in my arms, and I couldn’t seem to move.

He didn’t respond right away. He just kept staring at me. And for a moment, I felt like I couldn’t breathe..

“You don’t remember, do you?” His lips twitched into a faint, bitter smile.

My chest tightened. My grip on the bags faltered, and a carton of milk slipped out, bursting open on the pavement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered, though my voice trembled like I was lying.

“You will,” he said. “Soon.”

Before I could say anything, the sound of a car horn broke through the moment. I turned instinctively, startled, as a car sped past us, like it was in a hurry to get somewhere—anywhere—away from the moment we were stuck in. I looked back at the man, but he was gone. Just like that.

Gone.

I spun around, scanning the street, but he wasn’t there. Not a trace. Not even a hint of his tattered coat left behind. It was like he had never existed.

I don’t know what to make of it. I can’t stop thinking about him. Who was he?

Did I imagine the whole thing? Was he real? Or just… a symptom?