The Conductor

This is unsettling.

I feel various eyes on me, watching my every move.
The hushed whispers came in multitudes.

This is more than I face on a daily basis.

I stepped into the usual store; the vendor eyed my every move without blinking.

I bought needed materials for the marionettes; he took my money without saying a word – and still without taking his eyes off of me.

I stepped out, only to be stopped shortly after.

A group of four men, staring me down with cold gazes – one of them held a rusted pipe tightly in his fist.

I swallowed thickly, staring straight into the eyes of the man who held the pipe.

“I do not want any trouble, gentlemen…I just need to get home.”

My bag was knocked out of my hand before a fist collided into the center of my face – another fist into my stomach followed shortly after.

All I could see was dirt and blood as I was beaten down to the ground, gasping and coughing up more of the red substance.

“That is enough, men. He has to be alive for later.”

There was a collective hum in agreement followed by footsteps walking off into the distance.

I slowly pulled myself off of the ground – struggling and stumbling in the process.
The materials in the bag were stomped on and dirtied, rendering them useless.

I wiped the blood from my nose and looked around.

No one was watching me anymore.
No one uttered a single word about me.

Every person continued on as if nothing just happened.

And the thought of that alone made me sick.

I made my way back home, blood dripping and landing onto my shirt and the ground with every step – it took a large amount of willpower to not collapse until I have entered the bedroom.

Poor Tyler is going to worry when he sees me like this…
…but at least he cares for me.

I opened the door to the bedroom and stepped inside, hoarsely calling out Tyler’s name.
I heard a small sob, provoking me to inch my way in more.

His back was to me, and he was holding a small, black book in his hand.

That almost resembles…

He turned towards me, tears streaming down his cheeks as he glared at me.
His anger died down slightly when he saw the blood stains, but reappeared quickly.

“Tyler…what is wrong?”
“This is why you have been hiding me…This is why I have these scars…”

“Tyler…?”
I took a step toward him, but he threw the book at my feet to stop me.

I looked down and saw it, plain and clear – my journal.

“You tore me apart, only to piece me back together again as someone else! You…This whole time…You were the man from my nightmares!”

“Tyler I—”
“No!”

He gripped at his hair as he shook his head.

“You took care of me. You taught me everything that I needed to know. I loved you! I loved you so much! Yet…! The life that I had before…was taken from me! You took it from me!”

“Tyler, I swear that I didn’t—”
“I saw your face, Michael…! I remembered my death…and I saw your face…”

My breath hitched as I stumbled back and fell to the floor.

“I swear…I did not do that to you, Tyler…the people that I used…they were already dead…I wouldn’t have…”

But no words could stop him from rushing downstairs and walking out the door.

I bit down on my lip and shut my eyes.

He will come back…He will come back…

However, ten hours had passed, and I’m still on the bedroom floor, waiting for him to come back.

There was harsh knocking on the door downstairs, but I didn’t bother to move.

I know it isn’t him.

Rushed footsteps up the stairs before three men entered the room – three officers with guns pointed at me.

“Michael Bohn, you are under arrest as a suspect for the murder of Sarah Goodwife.”