His Other Half

There was no sound coming from the other sixteen units on her floor, and the automatic lights were only turned on from the elevator to the vicinity of her door, tracing the trajectory of the unknown delivery man.

A reminder that the package hadn't simply materialised on her doorstep - there was a human aspect to it, albeit invisible.

The rest of the corridor was drowned in darkness.

She looked back at the package.

This side up and handle with care written all over it, like tattoos on the torso of a short, bulky, tanned, naked man.

On a large white sticker, her name and address proved the delivery was not a mistake, that package was destined for her door, but there was no sender.

If she hadn't ordered it, who had? There was no one who would care for her that much, no family, no friends, no loved ones.

Emmy hugged it and noticed how heavy it was. Too heavy to lift, so pushing was the only way she could get it into the living room.

She tore through the duct tape feeling a mixture of curiosity and fear, but was left perplexed when she confirmed, separating the pieces and looking through the instructions manual, that it was a bookshelf.

She actually needed a new bookshelf.

The old one was too damaged to be carried when she moved to this apartment, so his books had been piled in a corner, waiting for a moment like this.

That is convenient, she thought. A strange convenience, since she never ordered it, but still a convenience.

Assembly and clean up took the rest of the afternoon and most of the night, and when it was done.

It was immense, but she wasn't a girl of many possessions, so it fit comfortably after it was pushed into place.

What a beauty it was. She was tired, and in need of a shower, yes, but the shelves looked at her emptied, eager for the books they would hold, longing for them.

She took a step back and admired her work, gleeful as a child on her birthday. The fact that she hadn't ordered it was quickly dissolved and forgotten by the fact that she now had it, and it was now her: the bookshelf.

She would have even taken a picture of it with her phone, had it not vibrated on her pocket at that very moment.

She took it in her hands. There was a message on the screen: your package has been delivered.

Was it a new message or the same from earlier? Before she could open it to see the hour it was delivered, a new message, identical to the other two, appeared on the screen: your package has been delivered.

What was happening?

Emmy Johnson too much frightened. She thought she will never opened the door to check the package.

She went to her bedroom for sleep and set an alarm for her office time.

James Thomson

They always did.

Even if the English thing didn't drop their knickers, the ex-military angle usually pried even the most resilient ankles apart.

The combination?

Killer.

It just so happened that I was also going to be the predominant heir to the esteemed

James Fortune. Fortunately, I hadn't needed to lean on that one to drop a pair of slickened panties just yet, but it always helped speed along the process.

"That's right, love. Just like that. Make my throbbing knob swell with pride."

My strong fingers threaded deeper through her curly hair They never could.

It occurred to me, as I forced her to suck me down deeper, that I didn't quite remember her name.

She was just some quick draw from the club, a pretty face that went red with pleasure the moment she caught my rich accent.

James knew she couldn't remember my name, either, but she was going to ask for it again by the end.

"Oh baby, come for me," she moaned, withdrawing my cock to lap away at the underside.

She ran her tongue along it, cradling my huge balls with one hand and stroking me valiantly with the other.

"Come in my mouth, babe. I know you want to."

"Wrong."

She looked up at me, confused.

"When I cum... it'll be in that trembling pussy of yours."

I flipped her backwards on the bed, climbing a top her body.

She shifted around on her back to get comfortable, and I slid her ankles apart with my own.

Within seconds, a condom was torn free from its wrapper in my teeth, and I slid the snug sheath smugly over my pulsing cock.

"Oh God..." she whispered.

I pressed my lips to her neck. "Quiet now."

Firmly grasping my latex-wrapped weapon, I guided it where it needed to go.

I knew that her pussy had been ready since the moment she'd whipped out my huge, throbbing cock.

It was just as I thought. Drenched.

In one heavy, powerful push, I was already halfway into her slick chasm.

God, she was tight. I mean, they were always tight with the caliber that I was always packing, but it still drove me wild every time.

Well... usually.

She was gliding her hips against mine, rolling her pelvis along my thick, unyielding tool.

I thought about asking how flexible she was... but then I just decided to figure that out for myself.

With a deft move of my arms, I'd slipped her ankles up over either shoulder; my strong hands rigidly clamped around her hamstrings, and I held her in place against me.

"Oof," she murmured with satisfaction as I dove deeper inside her.

With each fast, massive thrust, my throbbing cock pushed further into her quivering body.

Her legs were starting to hurt, so I flipped her onto all fours and mounted my prize from behind.

Grasping a thick handful of her lush hair as if it were a rein, I controlled my partner from behind as I passionately rode her ass.

"Oh god, that feels so fucking good," she half whispered, half groaned.

"Fuuuuck. I love your hot cock inside me..."

"It loves being inside you, too," I murmured into her ear as I dragged her up by her hair, her hips still locked against mine.

With her lips trembling from the painful pleasure, her back brushed lightly against my chest.

"Do you want to be a good girl and cum for me?"

The stranger nodded, and I tightened my grip on her hair, digging the fingertips of my free hand deeper into the soft flesh of her hip.

"That's right. You're such a good girl, making my cock feel so great... such a tight little pussy on you, too.

You want to cum? Is that what you want to do?"

She nodded again.

"I don't think I'm convinced..."

Quickly, I gave her a controlled thrust.

Her sweat-slicked body trembled with pleasure that oozed like the sweetest honey off of her small, involuntary gasp.

"I wanna to cum," she murmured.

"Do you now...?"

"Yes please," she nodded again. "Please make me cum on your huge cock.

I need it."

"You need it, do you? Well..." I smiled wickedly, guiding her back down onto her hands and knees.

"What kind of man would I be to turn down such a sexy request like that...?"

She looked over her shoulder with a flirtatious little smile, and I began to absolutely pummel her pussy from behind, digging the fingers of one hand into her hip and the other into her shoulder.

"Oh god, don't stop, please don't stop..."

"Don't worry," I chuckled. "Ride this fucking cock, babygirl.

Ride it until you can't fucking take it anymore..."

She braced herself against her headboard as I ramped up the pressure, hilting myself over and over against her thick hips until she began to shiver against me.

"Oh god, I'm coming, I'm coming..."

I started fucking her harder now, feeling her entire body whiplash against me with pleasure until she was an incoherent, babbling mess... but one still wrapped around my fierce cock.

This was one of the few things I derived pleasure from anymore.

I'd grown to accept that I was pretty much just going through the motions of my life at this point, at least for the next few years.

But when the Fortune was mine and I was free to do whatever I wanted...

But it was nice to know that, despite how stale and robotic the sweet art of hardcore fucking had grown, I could still derive some pleasure from watching and feeling a woman reduced to convulsions against my body.

She held herself taut as I felt her body undergo a nice long string of shuddering orgasms.

Groaning with eyes tightly shut and her lips wide open, I watched the young woman ride out every last drop of pleasure until her strength left her wobbly limbs.

Satisfied that she was done, I kicked things up to the highest notch, intent of taking my own one-way ticket to Climax Junction.

It was time that I got my own quick fix of brain chemicals.

After all, I'm a gentleman; ladies always come first.

With a few last bucks against her hips, digging into her so deeply that I knew the marks would be there days later, I let loose a great, throbbing burst of milky-white release.

Neatly caught within the condom, I roared with passion and emptied my great, big balls deep inside her exhausted body.

Just once, I'd love it raw, I thought to myself.

But I played it safe every time, and I trusted nobody else... especially not during sex.

A string of heavy pants of air later, I tugged my cock free of her slackened, satisfied chasm.

"Oh, that was so good," she murmured, slumping down to the mess of sheets and covers beneath us. "You're so fucking hot in bed..."

Instead, I stepped up, wandering to her adjacent bathroom to drop the condom down the drain.

After flushing the toilet, I briefly showered, drying myself quickly and leaving the damp towel on the counter.

To her apparent confusion when I stepped back into the room, I didn't dive into bed to discuss our feelings.

Instead, I merely began to tug on my boxer briefs... followed by my folded slacks and my button-up, which I was now deftly clasping back together up my chest.

"Wait, where are you going?" My latest pet asked, glancing up at me sadly.

The woman had a distinct layer of But what about the cuddling? plastered all over her face.

Sliding my watch around my wrist, I took a quick glance at the time. I could still make it.

"In meeting"

She leaned up from the bed, confused. " How awesome is that? Can I come?"

Before I had a chance to answer, she was leaping up out of the bed, diving into her overflowing closet to rummage up something.

It was almost endearing, maybe, how this latest conquest clumsily tried to include herself.

"No," I answered, cutting her off as I slipped on my shoes and tied the laces. "I'm afraid it's an exclusive thing... and besides.

This was fun and all, but you're definitely not accompanying me anymore.

You're not the right material for that."

The girl's jaw dropped.

"You're a real asshole."

"You knew what you were getting into," I smiled sardonically as I slipped on my blazer. "But that's okay.

This was fun.

I'd say I'd call you sometime, but... you know,"

With eyes full of venom,

She quickly tugged around in her closet for a shirt and a pair of panties. I wound up being the quicker dresser, and I was already diving into my shoes and closing the door behind myself as she prepared to slap the shit out of me.

I heard the door rip open, but I was already descending the stairs and around the corner.

It was only when I kicked on the ignition and glanced at the time that the warning bell in my head finally went off. I looked back at my Rolex. I'd failed to notice that it had stopped earlier, roughly forty minutes ago... Goddamned old world technology. I must have forgotten to wind it.

Aw, shit. I'm gonna be late after all.

she poke her head through the office door, her eyes locating her boss Mr. Cather who is seated at his desk. "I'm off for lunch," I inform him. "Is there anything you'd like me to get you on my way back?"

Mr. Cather looks up at me from the file he was poring over just a minute ago and his frown turns into a smile. He is a nice man, portly and in his sixties. His hair, what little is left of it at the sides is black and white and the front is mostly bald. I had been lucky the day he took a chance on me and hired me to work for him two years ago.

During that time I have come to respect him as my boss. His guidance has made me what I am today.

"No, no, I'm fine," he answers, though seeming a bit distracted. "Enjoy your lunch and as soon as you get back, let me know."

"Okay."

I close the door, wondering why he wants to see me when I get back. I shrug. Probably something he wants me to take care of. I take the elevator down to the ground floor and retrieve my phone from my bag.

Pushing through the swinging doors of the office building, I am texting her back when I hit into a solid wall. A wall that catches me by the arms as I stumble and almost fall.

"I'm so..." the apology for my carelessness gets stuck in my throat when I look up into striking bright blue eyes. My mouth goes dry as I stare at the most handsome man I've seen in a long time. Possibly in my lifetime. Black hair cropped short, a strong face with high cheekbones chiseled to perfection.

I tremble a bit in his arms but not because of the instant attraction to this virile man. I tremble at the power, cockiness and hardness I sense in this morning. He isn't a man to be trifled with.

"You need to watch where you're going, lady," he states crossly, putting me away from him.

His chide makes me flush a bright red especially given the way he is scowling at me for almost mowing him down.

"I'm sorry sir," I finally apologize even though the words end up sounding breathy.

"You see that it doesn't happen again."

Before I could respond, he turns his back and is walking towards the elevator. Stunned by the unexpected presence of this man, I continue staring at him and the way he fills out the charcoal suit. His blazers emphasizes his broad shoulders and the breadth of the muscular chest I'd found myself up against.

The close fitting trousers displayed long, muscular legs and ... Oh God, he stops at the elevator and is observing me observe him.

His smirk makes me act. I push out through the doors of the building, gulping in the fresh air of the outdoors. Well that had been unexpected. Why am I allowing a stranger to rattle me this much? By the time I get to the office he will be gone and I wouldn't have to worry about seeing him ever again.

I walk the short distance to the deli where I take lunch sometimes. I try to push the man from my mind as I delve into the cobb salad and soup I order. Usually very fond of their soup, I couldn't savor it this time around. My mind keeps going to that man. The one who made me feel like there wasn't enough oxygen in the world for both of us.

Only half-finished with my lunch, I order a bottle of Naked Juice to go and start the five-minute walk back to the office. I glance at my watch not so much checking if I'm on time to get off lunch but how many hours are left for the work day to end. I do enjoy my job as Personal Assistant to the CEO of Cather Publishing. This isn't how I'd envisioned using my Art degree but after prospects seemed nil in that area, I am glad I'd gotten an MBA as well.

The streets are just beginning to fill with workers hitting up the various restaurants around for lunch when I slip back into the office building.

. I'd plunged into my work through college and haven't had much time to date since working at Cather. My career had been more important two years ago and still is. This may not be what I envisioned myself working when I finished college but I am already here and determined to give it my best shot.

I still have a few minutes to spare when I get to my desk, so I stash my bag and head for the bathroom. I keep disposable toothbrushes with me at all time. As a child I had cavities and never want to get back there. I floss, use the toilet, wash my heads and stare at myself in the mirror.

Despite the lack of men in my life, it isn't due to me being unattractive. I wouldn't be thought of as Miss. World Material but then most girl aren't. I am medium height with brown hair prevented from looking dull by the highlights and sheen of my long locks which end in the center of my back.

The soft material of my champagne colored top is draped flatteringly over my small, round breasts. The top is tucked into one of my favorite pencil skirts which emphasizes my small waist, the gentle curve of my hips and the generous swell of my bottom. To complete my outfit, I am wearing black stockings and peep-toed pumps.

I always take care with my appearance. Not because I haven't put myself out there on the market means I am going to let myself go. I may not make an exorbitant amount of money especially with the decline in business which prevents us getting a raise but I dress well, knowing how to mix and match. That Art degree may not turn out to be much in terms of financial profit but it helps in my personal life.

Satisfied that I am looking up to par except for the creases in my skirt which can't be helped, I leave the bathroom and go over to knock on Mr. Cather's door.

"Come in."

I push the door open. "Just letting you know..."

I trail off, my smile freezing at the sight of the man sitting across from my boss. It's the same guy I'd run into earlier. The one who had made me feel like a child in the way he had addressed me. He is staring at me too as I had earlier stared at him and I try to retreat.

"Uh, I-umm," I stutter, the cleared my throat to start over. "Excuse me, I didn't know you have a visitor."

"That's fine Emmy," Mr. Cather says with a smile and beckon to me. "Come on in and close the door. I do have something to discuss with you."

"I wouldn't want to impose on your meeting," I explain. "We can speak after, if that is okay."

"Actually, what I have to say to you involve Mr. James Thomson here," Mr. Cather explains. "Close the door behind you. I wouldn't want word getting out to the other staff members until I get to break the news to them."

I enter the office reluctantly, aware that he still has his eyes on me, causing my stomach to flutter unsettlingly.

"Mr. James, this is my Personal Assistant I was talking to you about."

They were talking about me? I wonder I alarm. What about? I have a bad feeling whatever it is Mr. Cather wants to see me about isn't something I am going to like.

"Ah, the Assistant who knows everything," Mr. James states ruefully but do I hint sarcasm in his voice. "Except it seems how to exit a building."

"I beg your pardon?" Mr. Cather asks, thrown off by the other man's comment.

Mr. James waves him off. "Your Personal Assistant understands what I mean."

"You two have met then?" my boss enquires.

"No, we've not," I pipe in, realizing I haven't said a word since being asked to step in. "We just ran into each other while I was on my way to lunch but we've not been officially introduced."

"Literally ran into each other," Mr. James adds. "I hope texting on the job is not something that is promoted here at Cather's."

Heat suffuses my cheek. "I was on my lunch break," I replies to his statement which is meant as a direct cut to me.

Mr. Cather looks from me to Mr. James with a frown before he shrugs. "Anyway, Mr. James this is my PA Emmy . this is Mr. James. You'll be working for him as his PA as of tomorrow."

"What?" My eyes shifts instantly from James and towards my boss as his words sink in. "What do you mean work for him?"

"It's no surprise we've been lagging behind in the publishing business Emmy," Mr. Cather states. "You of all person understands this as you've been working closely with me.

I've long since wanted to go into retirement but thought it cruel to shut down operation, leaving everyone here without a job so when Mr. James put in an offer to take over the company, I accepted his offer."

No! No! No! My mind screams in protest. I couldn't work for that man. Everything would change.

He is nothing like Mr. Cather, nice and friendly, looking like everybody's Grandpa. How would I get any work done with this man around when I find it hard to focus with him around?

I nod my understanding, though my face is probably white from shock. "I see. Is there anything else that I should be aware of?"

"Not that I can think of," Mr. Cather responds thoughtfully. "Except that this will now be Thomson Publishing.

I do trust you will continue to do an excellent job with Mr. James, Emmy but then again I know you will."

"Of course," I agree, not looking at the man who I feel is about to ruin everything for me. How old is he anyway? He couldn't be older than early thirties. How is he able to afford buying this company at such a young age.

"I've to get back to my desk," I announce, then for the first time since finding out I would be working for him, I turn to my new boss. No, not new boss yet. Mr. Cather did say tomorrow.

"Nice to meet you Mr. James," I tell him with a tight smile. "O, my God what is this?

"The pleasure was all mine, Emmy."

The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine. Our eyes meet and the air is sucked out of my lungs. This man has the potential to be dangerous.

I can see it in the depth of those icy blue eyes. Those cynically, cold blue eyes. How could a man who appears so stoic cause the warmth pooling into my belly

With another nod.

Then i hurry from the office, knowing he is still observing me. The walk from the office has never seemed longer on trembling legs. When I am finally on the other side of the closed door, I lean heavily against it and my body sags.

The shrill ringing of the phone on my desk startles me and I nearly jump out of my skin. My elbow hits into the door at my back and I move away as though burnt. Damn. Now they would know I had still been standing at the door after leaving.

"Get a grip, Emmy," I caution myself.

"James Thomson will be your new boss. Get over it already. What do you think is going to happen?"

"Mr. Cather's office, how may I assist?" I answer the phone and sat heavily onto my chair. Time to get back into work mode.

After hanging up, I power on my computer, giving it some time to warm up while I get the mails. I am waiting at the elevator when Mr. James and Mr. Cather walk out of the office.

"Oh crap," I mutter and hit the button over and over again as though that would make the elevator appear faster. I would not ride the elevator with that man!

Ding! Yes, now to get in and hit the button for the first floor before...

"Emmy, hold the elevator for Mr. James, will you?"

For a second I contemplate acting as though I didn't hear him but I make the mistake of looking up at them. No way out of this one. I press the hold button and watch both men shake hands.

Mr. James steps confidently towards the elevator and I shuffle to the back in one corner as far away from him as possible. My heart thump wildly in my chest and although I try to avoid looking at him, my eyes keep flickering to him, drawn to him by some inexplicable reason. It couldn't be that I am attracted to the man. Men like him scare me. I always envision myself in the future with a gentle, kind man. Not someone who makes me feel intimidated as this man does.

Without warning, he presses the emergency stop button on the elevator. What the hell? Doesn't he know that would alert emergency response?

"What are you-?" my question ended in a gasp when his long strides bring him over to me and he is close. Way too close. I am running out of oxygen which causes my breathing to turn shallow.

Bup! Bup! Bup! Good God was that my heart beating?

"I can't wait to see if you're the saint Cather makes you out to be," he says gruffly, pressed my lower lip with his thumb.

I flinch at first believing he is about to strike me and then strokes my cheek with the back of his hand gently.

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" he asks softly but I know better than to ignore the steel in his tone.

"I- I'm not," I croak out, hating myself for the way my voice trembles.

The gentle caress of his hand turns rough as he grips my jaw. I want to say his grip hurt but it doesn't at all. He holds me firmly enough for me to know I wouldn't be getting out of his hold if he doesn't wish it. Still, I could feel the power and strength in him.

"You should be afraid," he cautions. "Be very afraid. I expect nothing but the best from you. Thanks to your boss who extolls your finer attributed greatly, I expect the same quality work and if you can't deliver... well, you get my drift."

A voice comes over the intercom. "Is anyone there? We've a report the elevator isn't moving."

Mr. james lets go of my jaw and move over to the buttons to respond. "The elevator is fine," he announces and release the button for the elevator to continue its short descent.

I breathe a sigh of relief when the doors open but huddle in my corner, waiting for him to step out first. I could still feel the impression of his hand on my cheek, my nostrils plugged with his natural musky scent mingled with his cologne.

"I expect to see you at six tomorrow Emmy."

"Six?" I echo. Work didn't begin until seven.

"Yes, at six." He turns slightly to the left so he could look back at me. "One more thing, you'll find I'm not so easily please as Cather obviously is."

He gives my body a once over and smirks before stepping out of the elevator.

Confused, I rush towards through the doors before the elevator could close with me inside. What is wrong with that man? Am I going to have to work with a lunatic? Why had he grabbed my chin like that? Doesn't he know anything about personal space because he'd invaded mine and without my permission. Is this what I will have to deal with working for him? Because this isn't what I'd signed up for when I decided to work at Cather.

"Are you okay?" Sandra asks in concern when I got to her desk. "Word has it you were stuck in the elevator."

"I- I'm fine," I respond which is a complete lie.

"Only the most sought after bachelor in Michigan. Did I mention he is a billionaire? You should see the women he usually goes out with. If you open any society page, I'm telling you, there's a photo of James Thomson."

The society pages? No wonder I don't know him. I don't usually read that trash. I want to pry and find out as much as I can about the mr James Thomson but I don't dare to bring it up more and raise Sandra's suspicion. Not that there is anything to be suspicious about.

"I wonder what he was doing here," Sandra muses aloud. "Do you know?" Then she gasps. "He's not taking over Cather's, is he? Because he's famous for that you know? Taking over small companies and ups caling it and its profits. They say he has the golden touch and I'm inclined to agree."

The dreamy look on her face leaves little to the imagination as to what she means by Mr. James's golden touch. Someone must be spreading rumors because his grip of my jaw in the elevator, that had been no golden touch. It was the very opposite.

"I'm sure Mr. Cather will announce if such a thing is happening," I hedge. "Gotta run."

I start to head for the elevator then take a detour to the stairs, walking the three flights. After almost being assaulted by that man and for no reason at all, I am not ready to face the elevator so soon.

After opening the mails, I bring them in a pile to Mr. Cather's office for him to tend to them.

"I suppose this is the last time I'll be getting my mails here," he announces with a sad smile. "I'll leave a forward address with you Emmy and if it's not too much trouble, could you forward any personal mails to me?"

"Sure will Mr. Cather."

I am almost at the door leaving when his voice stops me in my tracks........

"Emmy," he said almost hesitantly.

"Yes sir?"

"You may find Mr. James to be different in his approach from me," he states plainly. "He is a most unorthodox man but he has a record for turning profits. You'll be working for a very big publishing house soon. If anyone can turn this place around, he can."

Hmm, why do I have a feeling there is much more he wants to say that he isn't?

"Okay."

"And, he's asked about you."

So that is it. "Me? Why?"

He retreats looking almost regretful that he has said anything. "Ah it's nothing I suppose. Just a man ensuring he knows his new staff."

"Mr. Cather," I respond in concern. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

He shakes his head. "Everything is fine, Emmy. Mr. James will take care of everything."

Including me? I shiver remembering how he invaded my space, remembering his breath hot on my cheek with him standing so close to me. For the rest of the day, I work quietly, my mind occupied with some serious thoughts. Thoughts of handing in my resignation. But should I allow the actions of one man to force me out of a job? But James Thomson isn't your average man and I'd rather have peace of mind than being in a job and miserable.

Mr. Cather calls a meeting at four and informs the staff it is his last day. I knew when he did there would be waterworks. He is an amazing boss, the type who remembers everyone's birthday and buys them presents. After the meeting, everyone files out in a somber mood, kind of the way I feel.

At five, I give Mr. Cather a final goodbye and leave work, happy to go home but nervous about returning tomorrow. By the time I get home in my little Subaru, I had convinced myself that I am going to quit.

I am bad with controlling men and Mr. James showed me today he has no qualms with walking over people. I would find another job. she was so upset for her new boss she returned home with sad heart.

It was a cold winter's evening. The sky was gray, with a light breeze blowing. Soon it would be spring. There was the smell of green in the air and the sound of a bird singing. I pulled on my coat, opened the front door of the house, and took off down the street. As I did so, I felt the stiff wind of my departure. My coat came off, the coat collar fell away, exposing my collarbone and the rough skin beneath.

In an instant, all I smelled were metal and leather, rust and dust. From that moment on, there was no warmth in my heart, no hope. My life had turned to ashes in that instant. Yet, as I crossed the street, my soul was as strong as ever. That's how it felt. Now, when it mattered, nothing mattered. Not my future, not my past. No one in this world knew what I had done. No one had any idea. For the first time, I was a free person.

I stood alone, frozen and scared, unable to breathe, to speak, or to move, at first in utter silence. Then, gradually, slowly, quietly, like a sleepwalker, every sense of what was happening in front of me faded away. When it finally hit me, a man stood in its place. Just the man, nobody else.

Suddenly, everything became clear. he wasn't a human; he wasn't a man. Maybe he was not human at all. he was simply the one who walked up behind me in an alley. His clothes were elegant and yet, his face was so close that I could almost see his face, see the features of a man I once knew. Before I even knew it, he walked past me to stand right in my line of sight. There he stood, just as he had stood every day for all eternity, waiting for me outside the gates of jail.

I can still see his silhouette, my only friend, even as I knew that is not who he was. It was only my imagination that the person standing in the alley was not the man I knew. Who was he? Where did he come from? he was someone I've never met, someone I'm not supposed to know. The only difference is that now I am alive.

I now have a purpose. No one will ever torment me again, nor will they ever see me again. There is no one I want to see, no matter what happens to me.