Shadowed Steps

Jason woke up this morning with a jolt. His heart was racing, flooding his ears with a thudding sound in tune with his heartbeat. “What just happened?” he asked himself, frantically looking around his room. As he regained his composure, he took a deep breath to calm down and glanced at the alarm clock sitting on the right side of his bed. It blared “3 am” in a white glow, complementary to the ghost hour, known for nightmares and the occasional demon in the corner, but he was never one to believe in such superstitions. As he took off his newly sweat-soaked shirt and flung it onto the chair near his desk, he realized that he had not only sweat through his shirt but also onto the sheets of his bed. Frustrated, he sighed and turned to look around his room, noticing only seconds before that his shirt had caught onto something that wasn’t there, something human-like.

He rubbed his eyes to clear the blur, but his shirt seemingly was now normal. The weird humanoid figure it displayed before became just another white lump on a growing pile of clothing. He loudly groaned as he let his head drop back onto his pillow. “I must be seeing things,” he said. As he opened his eyes once again, to subconsciously verify he wasn't losing his mind, he looked at the chair once more. There was no figure. The white shirt was as it was meant to be. He glanced down and found his bath towel on the edge of the bed, grabbed it, and placed it underneath him.

“This’ll do,” he said as he flipped over his pillow to its cooler side and went back to sleep, satisfied with his temporary makeshift bedsheet. Sleep seduced him once more and had won. He was asleep within minutes.

Three hours later, around 6 am, his alarm rang. He’d had a habit of starting his day with a morning run. It just cleared all the racing thoughts he had in his head ever since his dad passed away when he was 6. With such a habit, he became a long-time winning national runner at the ripe age of 17 with a lot of gold medals. He knows his dad would have been proud.

As he got out of bed, he threw on his usual workout clothes from OnerActive and his New Balance running sneakers and went downstairs. His mom had just woken up as well, barely opening her eyes to check who was descending the stairs; who else could it be? “Good morning Mom,” “Good morning Jay Jay, have a nice run,” his mom said sleepily but proudly. Her son was her greatest joy and achievement and she couldn’t be prouder as her lips graced the hot cup of coffee she was about to drink while he passed by.

Losing her husband and his father was something that she thought would break both of them, but since she had inherited some wealth from her father at his passing, she was able to take a break from work and travel with him to grieve and be by his side. That’s when his running began. His mother thought it would be just another fitness and emotional regulation mechanism but it turned out to be something much greater and she couldn’t have been happier for him.

“Thanks, Mom, see you soon. Also, the marathon got moved to this coming weekend. “Boulder Hills & co” apparently,” Jason replied and shrugged as he quickly passed the kitchen and swiftly closed the front door. Escaping just as his mother's eyes fully opened with a look of horror. He already knew she'd be calling his agent to give him a good shout and didn't want to be anywhere near her when that happened. It was never a fun time and he had better things to do such as mentally prepare for the marathon. Through the door, he heard his mother shouting “That’s in 5 days! What happened to communication?!”, and he grinned. He knew his mom so well.

Starting at the top of his head, he stretched, checking off each section as he went. Neck, shoulders, arms, waist, hamstrings, quads, calves, and ankles. "One step at a time, one breath at a time, one mile at a time.” His mantra repeated in his head to solidify his focus. A couple more in-place jumps and he was off.

Five am, during his run, was his favorite time of the day; when the sun was just about to peek out from its horizon blankets, opening its eyes and lighting the sky in beautiful shades of pink, violet, and orange that grow into a steady blue. Some might say, that because of this timing those had grown to become his favorite colors but he’d never admit it. But his mood and his entire demeanor would change with only a glance at them.

As he ran, he increased his speed until he reached Mr. Crowley’s house, four blocks away from his own. It was his favorite checkpoint because Mr. Crowley, you could say, basically raised him in the art of marathons. He was also a national marathon runner in the ‘70s and would always stay after races to give pointers on how to maintain speed and when to drink water and not. Oddly, he was like the grandpa Jason never knew. Also, since he was getting old, Jason would pass by to see him exit his house and give a wave, just to make sure he was okay. Once he reached the house, he noticed that Mr Crowley wasn't up yet, and assumed it was just a late morning. Staying longer would have made Mr. Crowley upset as he “didn't like excuses to slack off”. Jason made a mental note to check in again on his way back. As he passed the house, Jason maintained his speed and continued his run down the street.

The higher the sun rose into the sky, the more waves he received from his neighbors greeted him. These mostly came from some older parents who would be starting their morning walks, with their dogs or their partners, trying to stay in shape. It was evident that they were inspired by Jason and admired his achievements, trying their best to create their own, however humble. Voices cried out greetings as Jason quietly whizzed past their houses on his journey. One that no one could keep up with or wanted to.

Unfortunately, there weren’t a lot of 17-year-olds, or teens for that matter who were really into running the way Jason was, and apart from Mr. Crowley and his mom, no one really cared that much for Jason at all. He was a lonely kid, with his own unique ambitions and lifestyle that making friends seemed impossible over the years, so he stopped trying and just like in running, never looked back.

This morning seemed to be just another routine run until Jason decided to take a detour. He took a right and ran across “Rookway Bridge” to the nearby apartment complexes that housed some “druggies” as his mom would put it. He’d never really been there for some time as he lived quite a distance away and so he thought a quick run past wouldn’t hurt. As he ran, even the so-called “druggies” cheered him on, trying to ask for a buck or two on the way. One man seemed serene in one of the high-rise abandoned apartment buildings. He was oddly outlined by darkness and smiling down at Jason with a frantic look in his eyes and a smile filled with no teeth. It was the kind of chilling look that would pull you in against your will, familiar and yet strange. Once Jason saw this, he slowed down a little, obviously shaken by the look on the old man’s face. This lapse in judgment allowed some people to get a little too close, and unfortunately, it was too late for Jason to notice.

He was surrounded by a crowd of strangers each trying to get a word in. As he pushed and struggled away from them, his arm was grabbed by an elder lady with a smile filled with rotting teeth and black holes, begging for some money and offering a “good time” in return around the corner. As Jason struggled out of her hands, she scratched his arm, leaving a thin streak of blood. He ran as fast as he could out of that crowd and neighborhood, hearing the cackling of that lady and a few bystanders in his wake. When he crossed the bridge on his way back, he turned to see if anyone had followed him but no one was there. It seemed like it was a bad idea to change his routine path and he surely learned his lesson.

As the distance between Jason and his home got shorter and shorter, the more he felt like someone was watching him, following him, but when he’d turn to look around him, there was no one in sight. His mind returned to the smiling old man in the apartment, picking apart more and more oddities of his appearance. Jason had never seen someone that old, let alone someone with such an odd face. Brushing off this feeling, he decided to sprint home, blaming his uneasiness on his lack of sleep caused by this morning’s night sweats. A valid deduction for someone living a normal life but this was not a normal case.

With three days left until the marathon, Jason decided to run on the school track the upcoming mornings. They had indoor showers and he knew that would be more convenient as he could run for longer and still make it to class. Of course, being who he was, he had some privileges when it came to the track field, so it wouldn’t have been an issue. He was grateful for that because even though he wouldn’t admit it, the man hadn’t left his mind. He would say he was fine when people would ask. He would do his work and try to focus on anything but the old man yet the more people appeared around him, the less his methods worked.

As he walked to his final class through the windowed hall, in the corner of his eye, he started to see someone standing in the woods with the exact same smile on their face as the man from the apartment. But when he’d turn his head, no one would be there. The daunting feeling of being followed kept growing and growing until the end of the school day and Jason had never felt like running more than at that moment. He grabbed his bag and went straight home, avoiding everyone in his sight, including his mom.

This sudden behavioral change immediately alarmed his mother but she knew better than to force an answer. She knew when the time was right he’d be able to talk about everything. Even though that was the case, she made sure to let him know that she was on his side and that her presence was something that Jason would never have to doubt. She was there if he needed anything. To that, he simply glanced at her with a comforted look, said “Okay” and went back into his room. She respected his space.

As the day of the marathon crept closer, the man followed suit, appearing closer and closer before each glance. Jason started to get so freaked out that he couldn’t sleep anymore and turned to taking sleeping pills, avoiding school, and he eventually stopped running outside entirely. Although he hated it, he would run on his old treadmill that was packed up years ago, still determined to attend and win the marathon. As he finished his night run, Jason’s mother passed by and noticed the scratch on his arm. “What happened, hun?” she asked, grabbing his arm to inspect the scratch. “Nothing big. I disinfected it though. What time are we going to the TrackMeet tomorrow?” he said changing the subject at the first opportunity. This took his mother aback as she answered his question “7 am” she said. Once answered, Jason nodded and walked into his room, isolating himself once more.

The next morning as Jason was getting ready to leave for Boulder Hills & co TrackMeet, he looked outside his window and the man was nowhere to be seen. He breathed a sigh of relief and got in the car with his mom en route to the marathon location about 4 hours away. With such a distance, the fears of that man seemed to melt away as they reached the location. Jason was able to sleep in the car and get into some form of relaxation. This made his mom a little happier as she had noticed that something was off even though Jason didn’t say anything.

At the start of the marathon, with the starting gun having just gone off, Jason immediately felt the weight of the old man return. Filled with anxiety, he looked up to the sky. A clear blue enveloped him and seemed to take over his body. They say that blue calms the uncalmable and at this moment it became true. Jason looked behind him into the crowd of people taking off around him, breaking his one rule of never looking back in a race, because he knew what he would find. There, standing in the middle of the moving crowd was the old man. His face was pale and sunken but he didn’t seem scary anymore, as people ran around him, by him, and through him. He looked more solid than ever and Jason felt if he reached out to touch him, he would. The man smiled again showing his missing teeth, and this time, Jason smiled back. A glint of happiness showed in the man’s eyes as he nodded, his wide smile turned into a tight-lipped grin and he turned away. Jason did the same, joining the crowd in a run. He finally understood and with one step at a time, one breath at a time, one mile at a time, he left his thoughts behind and said goodbye to Mr. Crowley.