2 Footsteps

Sitting on the edge of my bed I cradled my head in my hands. The words swarmed in my head.

'It wasn't a coincidence.....It wasn't a coincidence.....It wasn't a coincidence.'

'Who the hell was in my home?!'

I remember coming home, looking for the mask, and not even finding it, assuming it was nothing then sitting on the couch to look at my notes and then nothing. Everything after that was blank, as if I have amnesia. But that doesn't make sense I'm only 25 and I don't think anyone in my family has this problem.

"I'm not insane am I?" I got up and stumbled out of my room into a perfectly clean bathroom. Fumbling backwards I ran out to the living room to see that it to was cleaned, as well as the kitchen. Sitting on the table was a wrapped breakfast with a note attached to it as well.

Walking towards to table in disbelief I picked up the note.

'Eat, you'll need it and when the time comes you'll understand.'

Collapsing into my seat I stared into space with my mind running. I silently picked up my phone and dialed Mr. Jackson's number. The sound of the ringing thundered in my head and finally, after what felt like forever, the line connected.

"Hello? Tyler are you okay? You never call me?" the thick confusion laced in his voice could be clearly heard.

"Mr. Jackson I don't think I can work for a while I'm having serious health problems going on so I'd like to either take some time off or be taken off the case."

I could tell he heard the strain in my voice as I was trying to keep myself from breaking down.

"I understand but I'm going to have to come and visit you so I can see you myself." He spoke in a stern but obviously concerned tone.

I hesitated for a moment and nodded while saying, "Yes sir." The call was ended not soon after.

Sitting in my seat I zoned out and time seemed to fly by. I was only brought back from the loud banging at my door and the panicked sound of Mr. Jackson's shouting. Jumping up I ran over to the door and opened it.

"What the hell Tyler!"

"How'd you get here so fast? I just finished talking to you?" confusion clearly etched deeply on my face.

"What do you mean Tyler? We talked seven hours ago! I've been trying to get you to open this damn door for almost an hour by now!" Mr. Jackson laid on hand on my shoulder and use his other hand to grip my face to look it over. "Tyler...your bleeding."

Pulling me into my home Mr. Jackson sat me back down in the seat at the table and walked towards my bathroom. I moved my hand up to my face and pulled it back my fingers became wet. Looking down at my fingers I did indeed see blood.

"How the hell did this even happen?" Mr. Jackson knelt down in front of my with alcohol swabs and bandages.

In a dazed I stared at him and mumbled, "I...I don't know."

Looking at me Mr. Jackson didn't say anything else and instead just patched me up. When he was done he threw away the trash and the sat down next to me.

"Now tell me what's going on. Why do you want to take a break or be taken off the case?"

Looking up to Mr. Jackson I mumbled out, "I keep forgetting."

"Keep forgetting what?"

"I'm forgetting moments." I clenched my head, my breath coming out in deep heaves.

"Tyler! You're okay! Deep breathes, in and out, in and out. Listen to my voice. That's it, your doing good." Mr. Jackson gently rubbed his finger under my eyes wiping away the tears that has fallen.

"Let's try taking this slowly, alright?" he held my hand and placed one on my back as he lead me to my couch.

Nodding my head I allowed him to guide me and sat down as he sat down next to me.

"Okay now try to start from the beginning." He kept his hand on my back and continued to rub it which soothed me alot.

Taking a deep breath and breathing out slowly I gathered my words, "It started I think around a month ago. At first I didn't notice it since it was only subtle differences and I chalked it up to me being tired from working overtime lately but then the differences gradually got bigger. It grew to the point I could TELL it wasn't from me just being tired."

His hand pause on my back and I peeked sideways to see him thinking hard but jerk out of thought when he noticed I was looking at him and had stopped talking.

"Go on I'm listening." He spoke softly and began to move his hand again.

Relaxing my shoulders I sighed, "It got worse to the point that it wasn't only at night anymore. There would be points when I would be working on the evidence, going over it and then all of a sudden I would be sitting at my table with a half empty plate of food in front of me. These type of things continued." I hesitated a bit and rather or not I should tell him about waking up with blood on me or not.

He must have noticed I was struggling because he spoke up, "Tyler whatever you say I promise you I won't hate you nor hurt you."

He looked me straight in my eyes and I nodded once more, "Can you keep what I'm about to say a secret until I'm certain? Please."

He nodded his head, though confusedly, "I promise you, so yes I will."

Taking a deep breath again, "One time I had woken up in my bed wearing a black hoodie, black shoes, black pants, and a black mask. I remember touching it and feeling something wet and in the dim lighting I saw it was red. Then the smell hit me." I quickly put my hand to my mouth when a wave of nausea hit me.

I saw from the side Mr. Jackson get up a quickly head over the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. Handing it to me he sat down and once more went back to what he was doing before hand.

Taking a sip of the water to wash out the terrible taste I continued. "The strong scent of copper and iron hit my nose. I remember having a complete melt down because I couldn't remember what happened and then I blacked out. When I woke up again I was once more in bed but this time I wore the same clothing as before and the smell of blood was gone. I figured I had a terrible nightmare and none of it was real. That was until I went to work."

I could hear him taking in a deep breath as realization hit him.

"When I got to work the pictures of a man, wearing the very same clothing I was wearing the night before was plastered on the bulletin board right next to a picture of a man who was torn to pieces. Throughout that month more and more victims were claimed each one as horrible as the last but never again did I wake up in clothes like that again though I would wake up wearing clothes I wasn't wear the night before. I had convinced myself that I was just sleep deprived and it was all a coincidence."

I turned to him not caring that he had froze and was looking at me in confusion and terror. "Last night when I woke up I was wearing a white oversized shirt, jeans and black shoes."