I looked up. That stranger from before! "P-please... You have to help..."
He held out a hand and pulled me up. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern tinting his voice.
"F-fine," I lied. How was I going to explain what was happening to me? He would think I was crazy, throw me in an institution, or something worse. I stumbled, the stranger just barely catching me before I hit the ground.
"Eh, you don't
look fine to me," the stranger commented.
"I... I'll try to explain what's been happening to me later, right now, I just need to get out of here."
"Speaking of which, what's that slimy crap all over your floor?" the stranger asked curiously.
I jolted, using both the stranger's shoulder and the end-table next to me as support. I turned my head curiously at him, responding to his question with another. "Y-you can see it too?"
"Do I look blind to you?"
I turned my head to the side, staring at the floor. "So, I'm not insane..." I could feel the stranger's gaze boring into the back of my head. He seemed like he actually cared about what happened to me. I knew he wanted to ask what I meant, but both he and I knew that now was not the right time to ask.
"C'mon, we can get back to my place, we can talk there," the stranger said, finally breaking the silence.
"Yeah..." I responded solemnly.
@xxxxkill NICE WORK! :D Someone actually understands this story.
I try.