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8:56 pm

8:56 pm, September 9th, present year.

         I was walking down the street. Nobody was around, the town was deserted. Darkness swallowed the town. Silence thundered in my head. No bird dared chirp, no dog dared bark.

            The town I was in was small, yet with a variety of shops spread out across the main square. As I walked down the main street, I saw an ice cream shop, a bookstore, coffee shops, jewelry stores, among others. Where was I? This was not my hometown. Yet I felt like I wanted to live here. It had a warming aroma. It welcomed me, invited me, and urged me to rest in one of its houses. But why was it so silent?

            I continued down the street, and saw a figure ahead. I wondered who would be out when everybody else was tucked away in this strange town.

            As I got closer, the outline of the figure revealed an average height man, who was built and muscular. I stopped when I was a foot away from him.

            He lifted his head and looked in my eyes.

            His face reminded me of a friend, a comrade. Did I know this face? Maybe not. But who did it remind me of?

            A light clicked in my head. I knew who this was! What was he doing here? It was-

            Suddenly, the figure pulled out a knife and stuck it in my gut. He held it there and placed his hand over my mouth. I crumbled, and fell to the ground gasping for air, any air. My breath became short and rapid. Blood seeped out of the wound, and I felt my life slipping away.

            The figure let go of the knife, and casually turned and left, without looking back at me.

            My vision blurred, cut in and out, and then abandoned me entirely. A breath, another.

            Then nothing.

            Pure silence.

*          *          *

            I woke up with a start. Sweat dripped off my forehead, and my body was scorching hot.

            I had been killed.  No, it was only a dream. A very realistic dream. In which somebody I knew had stabbed me. Who was it? I recognized him in the dream, but my mind couldn’t remember. The face drifted out of my memory, and was lost forever.

            Where was I now though? I sat up. What was I lying on? I looked down.

            A park bench.

            What? Why wasn’t I home? I tried to recall what happened last. I was brushing my teeth, and then I lost my strength. I had gone unconscious, and now I’m here. I must’ve been kidnapped.

            But why? Why kidnap me? I lifted my head and surveyed what was around me.

            It was the town in my dream. Exactly the same. Except now there were actually people around. I groaned and pushed myself up so I was sitting on the bench. Ugh. My head hurt. What time was it?

            There was a bulge in my pocket. I stuck my hand in and pulled out a cell phone. Not mine, but a new flip phone. I assumed this was so that my parents couldn’t call me. But I could still call them, or call 911, right? I flipped it open and the clock showed the time as 9:11 pm. I had been out for almost an hour.

            Before I could dial a number, it started ringing. I knew who it would be, so I answered right away.

            “Was I too boring in my home?”

            The garbled voice laughed. “A change of scenery was in place.”

            “Why? And where is this?”

            “Just because, of course. And you’re in the pleasant town of 'I'm not going to tell you!' Ha, why would I? It's boring if you know all the answers."

            "What’s keeping me from calling home, or calling 911?" I challenged.

            "Would you care to find out?"

            Was he bluffing? I mean, he usually told me the consequences.

            "You’re bluffing."

            "Bluffing what?" He sounded very confident.

            "Whatever you're going to do!"

            "As I said, feel free to find out."               

            Neither of us said anything. Did I have the guts to try it?

            "Fine. I won't call them. But how am I going to eat or anything? I don't have any money, and I what am I going to do here?"

            "Check your right pocket."

            I jabbed my hand in my pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

            The voice continued, "That’s $200 in cash for you. Use it as you like."

            "How do I know it's not counterfeit?"

            "Because why would I want you locked up in a jail cell? If you were in jail, or even in holding, you would feel safe! You would rather be in the police station or out here in the open, where anything can happen."

            He was right. Being with the police sounded a whole lot better than sitting on a park bench in the middle of a town where I didn't know the name. And talking to a killer on a phone that wasn't even mine.

            “So you’ve given me money and placed me in a random town. What do you expect me to do? This doesn’t make any sense!”

            “You’ll find something to do. I promise.”

            He hung up.