Shuffling feet

I saw it from across the road. It was standing next to my local corner shop, bathed in yellow light from the neon shop sign above it. The first thing that came to my mind while watching it was, ‘what’s wrong with it’s neck?’ The first thought in my head should have been to run or hide and I wish I had thought that now. Unfortunately, I was only wondering about it’s damn neck.

It’s neck was angled crookedly to the right, with it’s head hanging lopsidedly off it. It reminded me of my dog when excited, how the dog would angle it’s head to the side and let it’s tongue hang out in pants. This was no dog.

If it wasn’t for the neck, it would almost come across as human, like any other person walking alone at night. Something about it told me this couldn’t be something natural. It was too awkward and uncomfortable in it’s movements to be any sort of human.

The neck didn’t seem to have any sort of breakage, it looked almost normal to have it curved to the right. Below the neck, it wore a dark brown wool coat and blue bootcut jeans.

When I usually walk around my neighbourhood, I don’t notice what people are wearing quite so intensely. This thing had caught all my attention and alarm, that I couldn’t not notice it’s clothing, it was almost a necessity to analyse it.

Something I should have noticed earlier was it getting closer. It wasn’t fast enough or distinct enough to be important. I should have observed better.

It’s two legs creeped forward in tiny child-like steps. Each foot went after the other, shuffling like a baby learning to walk. It was walking across the road to me.

All thoughts ended, I just wanted to be home and feel safe. I turned abruptly and started pacing my steps up my road. My road had no street lamps and I could barely see five steps ahead of me. That didn’t mean I couldn’t hear.

I didn’t hear anything at first, I was almost to the bend in my road and my house was just up ahead. Then I heard it.

A slow shuffle of feet. Feet scraping against the pavement just behind me. I didn’t want to look back. My feet had slowed significantly. I thought with adrenaline bodies went faster, but that didn’t seem to happen. My mind was slow with thought and my body was slow with speed. Everything had slow down to disjointed moments that were like looking at pictures placed right next to each other, all showing different times of one event.

I looked back.

Not completely. My long hair was covering half of my face like a much-needed shield and I couldn’t completely force myself to want to look back. Luckily, I saw enough. It was right there. Only a few steps behind and it’s short shuffles of feet had grown considerably speedier and less uncontrolled, almost like it was learning to walk.

The adrenaline came back full force. I needed to be home and away from it. I could see my house from the bend and I knew, even with my limited stamina, I could make it there without it ever catching up.

I fled and didn’t look back once. Once at my front door I barged in, making the most noise I could to alert my family of some sort of danger.

My mom and dad immediately noticed the shock to my face and covered me in hugs and comfort as I told them what happened. I didn’t notice the tears on my cheeks until mom began drying them off.

Later on in the night, I made sure to look out my bedroom window that faced the street, making sure I was as safe as I could be. Thankfully I couldn’t see it or it’s crooked neck.

But whenever alone, while listening to the sound around me, I’m sure I can hear the slow shuffle of feet just behind me. I just hope it never catches up.