It's My Fault

WORD ART by Emily Jiles

It never mattered if it was real or in my head but I knew it was raining that day. The day I figured it out. It seemed to always rain. I wondered if it would ever stop. It was so soft like snow falling on the ground. The rain kept me calm. It might have been the way the droplets melted away on my skin or the way I knew I would always be safe when it came.  Everything always seemed so perfect. When I was lying there it felt perfect. I took a breath and leaned my head up to the sky feeling the rain on my bare face. My mother was there, waiting at the door. She called out my name.

  “May”

  She had such an innocent voice as if she didn't know what had happened. I felt her face which was once smiling up at me, shift. Her face turned cold and her eyes went dark. The ground started to vibrate. The clouds started getting closer and closer, the sky started to fade into black, and then she was gone. I could no longer hear her calling my name the high-pitched tone calling me

“May… May please come inside?”

I rubbed my face hoping she would appear again but nothing happened. I was still sitting in the rain on the hard wet street. Then a hand was placed on my shoulder. It was so cold, like nothing I had felt before. Then it was almost like a light had been turned off in the world and everything went dark. I turned my head and looked behind me. A strange man was standing there. It felt like I knew him yet I couldn't remember his face. He looked down at me and I could see the pain in his eyes, the anger. Had I done something to him?

“You know who I am” his voice rattled through my brain, and I quickly looked away. He leaned forward and with a hushed voice said

“Please remember” 

As I went to look at him again he was gone, and everything was dark again. 

I woke up in the middle of the street. I hadn't moved. It was raining again, slightly harder than the last time but my clothes weren't wet. The road was dark. So many people had driven on these black cold roads. The tire marks were deep, and the road was dull. The lines were a faded yellow. I lay on the ground and felt the small dents in the ground. I slid my hand down the road and felt all the little rocks against my fingers. So many people have been here. I looked around and noticed someone lying on the ground covered in blood. Then like magic, he was gone. I got up in a hurry and started walking along the sidewalk. I couldn't determine if what I saw was real or not. As I looked up I noticed a person was standing there at the end of the sidewalk. I squinted my eyes attempting to get a better look. I walked closer to the person. It was a man. He was so still. He was staring at me, he never looked away. He never broke eye contact. A chill ran down my body, I felt cold, it was like death was creeping toward me. I looked around me but he was the only one there. The roads and houses seemed so empty. I looked back at him. He was closer now. He was tall. He had stiff arms and this glare that a person could feel in their soul. I walked closer. He took off running. Did I scare him? I thought to myself. I started to run after him and then he took a turn down an alleyway. It was a dead end. There were no lights and it was so dark. All the lights from the street had vanished. I could slightly see the rigid shadow against the wall. It smelled as if something had been rotting there for weeks. The scent made the air feel thick and it was getting harder to breathe.  He stopped at the end of the alley and turned to me. 

“Who are you?” I asked. 

“The one you're looking for, the one you keep seeing,” he said. 

My face suddenly turned pale and all the blood rushed out of my body. Was he lying? He had to be. How did he know?

“What are you playing at”. 

“It's a game. It's always been a game. It didn't have to be me, but she chose me. You chose me” What was he talking about? 

“You are the one I have been seeing everywhere aren't you,” I asked. 

He grinned. My stomach was in a knot. It felt like the whole world was being pressed against my shoulders. I didn't know what to do. I could slightly remember him. It was like I had seen him somewhere before. 

“You killed that man didn’t you?”

“I am the person that you have been seeing”

“I don't understand”

“You will soon learn who I am.”

“I need to know now. Was it you? I can't go down because of this. It wasn't my fault!” a scream left my throat and it echoed against the walls, but it seemed as though he didn't hear me. 

“You will go down but it won't be because you are innocent” 

He was trying to scare me. Why is he trying to scare me?

“I could turn you in for this,” my throat felt tight and every time I took a breath it was like I had swallowed sandpaper. It felt like I was looking at a black screen. He didn't care. He had no emotion, he had no life.

“It isn't me they looking for,” he said.

“You were there that night. You were the only one there.”

“I was.”

“Why were you there? Why were you covered in blood?”

“Who said it was someone else’s blood?”

His head raised and he looked at me. His eyes had lost all color. I never laid hands on him yet I could feel that he was cold. It was so dark yet the moonlight seemed to reflect off his white skin. It almost glistened. It was like the life had been drained from him.

“What happened to you” my voice shook as if an earthquake was happening in my body.

“Don't act like you don't know”

His voice was broken this time? He looked at me with rage, and his eyes went crazy. He threw his hands up to the sky. He slowly lowered one hand and pointed his cold sharp finger at me. He stopped for a split second. It was almost like his soul left his body. He focused back on me. He took a step and ran at me… 

I woke up in my bed. It was getting harder for me to remember what happened that day. I can't remember where I was or who I was with. Everything felt so strange. I looked out the window in hopes that the view of my street would help me to think, but I couldn't see anything. 

“That's funny,” I said under my breath.

My mom barged in “What is?" 

I jumped. “Nothing I just can't see out of my window”. 

She looked at me as if I was crazy. 

“What do you mean it's a beautiful day not a cloud in the sky.” 

I looked back and realized she was right. My mom walked out the door and shut it behind her. I went to lean my head in the window when I noticed the room was getting darker. The sky started getting foggy, and the clouds obtained a menacing look. I got this feeling like I was being watched. I heard a tapping sound start on my window. I looked out once more and there he was. Standing at my window. The panic set in and the tapping turned into banging and then the dripping started. The dripping intensified. He wouldn't stop banging on the window I was worried my mom would hear. I shut the curtains quickly hoping he would just go away.

“Is he following me now?” 

My heart had melted to the bottom of my stomach and I felt sick.  

“Yes.”

I froze he was in my room. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. The room got colder and the hair on my arms stood up. That's impossible he can't be. My door was locked and I never opened the window. I never even heard him come in. 

“Nothing impossible.” He said. 

I felt all the blood rush from my head. I could feel him there next to me. He could hear what I was thinking. My head was spinning. The room was spinning. My body felt weak. I took a step forward and fell to the ground. I looked up. I couldn't focus on anything. My eyes went blurry as I saw Him bend down to me, and then he vanished. It was like he was never there. 

I remembered something from that night. I know that it was cold and it had just stopped pouring. The ground was darker than normal. There were puddles on the ground and my shoes were wet. I could feel the water soaking into my socks. My hands were sticky and stained with blood. It had a deeper color to it than I thought it would, and it was thick. I saw him there. I looked him right in the eyes, and he had that same cold dead look. His skin seemed to be its natural color this time, but it was slowly fading. He just laughed at me. I didn't know why he was laughing at me. Yes, I had blood on me but he was covered in it. I remember lying there. My body was in pain. My arms had cuts in them and my legs were bruised. I turned over on my stomach. I could feel the cold wet ground beneath my hands. About five steps from me there was a red spot. Somehow I knew exactly what it was. It was the same blood that was on my hands. I watched as the blood sank into the black cement. I never saw the body. Yet I could see the blood. That moment is when I started to see him.  

I had never realized before how abruptly something could change your life. I didn't understand why I was seeing this strange man. I know I had blood on my hands, the blood of someone else. I get how that can look. I couldn't have killed anyone though. That isn't like me. I couldn’t understand what was going on around me anymore. Every night I would go to sleep and every night I would see him in my head. It was like the same dream over and over again but the conversations were different. I had never remembered my dreams before. Why now? I have gone back and forth with myself. I couldn’t determine reality from dreams anymore.

It's Sunday, January 18th today. Officially three weeks since I first met that strange man. It was late at night, probably around 9 or 10. I couldn't think clearly so I went for a walk. I put on my sweatpants and an oversized hoodie and walked out of my room. 

“Where are you going?” My mother asked

“Just for a walk around the neighborhood”

“This late. Seems like a bad idea, don't you need to go to bed?”

“Mom, I'll be ok, I promise. I'll be home in like 30 minutes.” It felt like she didn't trust me. You could hear the assertiveness in her voice. She looked at me with heated eyes. She nodded at me to go away and I walked out the front door. I felt a cold chill run down my back as my body tried to get used to the cold. I started walking down the street. The sidewalk was worn down and no longer that new concrete color. There were weeds in the cracks. I kept walking. The moon was especially bright. You could see every little dark spot on the moon. The light almost felt warm against my cold face. I stopped for a second and took it all in. I let my body relax and I felt all my weight shift to the bottom of my feet. I closed my eyes and for once I was able to be in the moment. My head was clear. As I started to relax I felt something wet fall on my face. The water ran down my Cheek and dripped off my neck. Another drop fell on my face. 

“It's starting to rain,” I said in a whisper.

“Yes, it is.”  

I spun around, my legs went weak along with the rest of my body. I lost my balance and fell forward. He caught me and placed me back on my feet. He was so cold. His skin was completely white now. He was a perfect image of snow. 

“Are you following me?” my lungs clenched together. 

“I am always following you. When you are asleep, when you are walking, and even when you are listening to music in your room I am there.”

I turned back around and started walking again. He walked next to me. It was silent. Silent and raining. It was silent storming and cold and I had a man walking next to me. I won't ever understand why but it felt normal. 

“Why are you here?” I asked

“I'm always here”

“No, I mean the real reason.”

“You think you're innocent and you get to walk free, explain to me how that is right.”

“God what is with you didn't do anything.” I sped up trying to get away from him. As I walked down the sidewalk I noticed a house. I hadn't noticed it before yet it seemed so familiar. I watched the loose windows swing in the breeze, and I could hear the trickle of rainfall on the metal gutters. 

“It's the house from that night,” he said. I had forgotten he could hear my thoughts. The rook was almost caved in and the wood had rotted. I don't know why but I walked into the house. I felt a pull on my hand. Like I was meant to be here. To go into the house. I walked up the cracked stairs and pushed open the door. It creaked as I entered the house. I stepped in and everything went dark. There was no more moonlight. The only thing I could hear was the slight pitter-patter of the rain on the decomposing roof. I looked behind my shoulder expecting to see him but he was gone. I had seen him so many times. He felt so normal to me now. Our conversations confused me. I started walking around the house. With every step, the creaking of the broken molded floorboards got louder. I blinked and he was there again. 

“How do you do that?” he didn't answer me. I looked him in the eyes again. Something was different this time. I turned to walk out the door, I could feel my hands shaking. As soon as I got to the door it swung shut. I took off down the hallway to my left. I started to feel my own life fleeing from my body. He grabbed my arm from behind and yanked me backward. I knew his eyes so well now. Somehow I knew his eyes would be the last I would see in this world. He led me here to be alone. I know that now. I started to panic, my hands started to sweat and my throat was clenched tight. I wanted to live, I thought.

“You don't deserve to,” he said 

 “Let me live,” I shouted “Please”. My voice echoed in the silence. It was me and him standing in the house alone. No one would know. I could hear my heart pounding in my head. I placed my hand on my forehead. Then I noticed it. 

“My hands!” I said “What’s on my hands.” they were covered in blood. They were covered in my blood. 

“How, why”? I could see only him now. I could feel the blood start to soak into my shirt. There was so much. I never noticed how much… he was just standing there. He won't speak to me. He isn't telling me why. Why is my blood streaming down my body like a waterfall? My body lost all feeling. He let me fall to the ground and as I lay there he stood over my body like he enjoyed this. I was just another kill on his list, another trophy. I didn’t catch him. 

“There was no one to catch,” he said

I could feel myself Bleeding out on a cold wood floor and in a place I don't know. This can't be it. How can I give up so easily? As he turned his back to me I stood up and with the strength I had, I threw myself at him. We both fell to the ground. The pain overriding my brain failed to let me continue. He crawled on top of me with a knife in his hand. He grasped it tight and came down on me. One after the other, I knew gashes were being cut on my body. 1,2,3,4 

“Stop,” I whispered. This time he listened. He looked at me with soulless eyes. And pulled a paper out of his pocket. He read it out to me “I am not sorry about what happened that night. I can't be after getting this far. You and I have grown up together over the years. I know you hear me. I watch every day as you ponder whether the voices are real or not. I am real. You can't shut me out. You know I won't let that happen to me. True I may not be the May you were looking for but I am the May you get. She is gone now but I am still here. Did you hear us that night? We were so happy, happy with what we did. Then you came back to the “real” May. I watched as you felt all that agony and pain. I watched it gleaming from your eyes. I knew you had done it. Taking another’s life. One that was not yours to take. What do you think about that May? Does it hurt knowing what we did? Please try not to worry though. I tried to make it easy for us. For you. I wanted you to remember. I made it rain for us. I thought that would make it easier being around him. I helped him to appear since you were so persistent in keeping me hidden. You locked me out, so I came in through the back door. Our mind is a funny thing, you can come in but you can't ever get out. I had to watch as you forget and move on. How could you move on when we did that together? We’d never done anything together before. I wanted you to see us as one person not as voices. I needed to open your eyes, so I called on him, the one we murdered together. Did He make you realize? Is that why you gave up so soon? Before I told you the answer before I told you the truth. I am not sorry for making us do it. I'm just sorry I didn't make us do it sooner”. At that moment everything was clear. I reached up for his hands which still held the knife. He let go and as it fell one last time, a tear ran down my face and I took my last breath. It was over. The memories flew through my head one last time. I remember the rain and how I loved it. I remembered how he was always around when it rained. I could see my mother and her sweet innocent smile staring at me. She wasn't mad. I knew who it was. The killer.

  “It's you,” he said. 

“You killed me that night. You took my life and left me there.”

“You're the one that killed me.”

“I-I” I couldn't speak. I had nothing to say

“You did this, you let her do this to me.”

And for the last time, he disappeared. Everything disappeared. I had been lying in the street all this time. Now the stain of blood on the ground belonged to me. I held the knife but not with the intent to kill another. But with the realization that I needed to be next. Sunday, January 18th was the last night I talked to anyone. The last night I would feel the rain against my face.