August 12th, 2006
I see the tall man everywhere. I'v started referring to him as "Kyle". I tell my grandmother about Kyle as she lies in bed and looks at me with dim eyes. I tell her how he looks. Tall, of course, with deep red hair. Shaggy, red hair... how did it get so red? She stares at me and sort of smiles, sort of frowns. "I see.." she says, and takes ahold of my pinkie finger. "You can watch him all you want, but I don't want you talking to Kyle. Understand, Eiko?
He doesn't sound safe."
August 13th, 2006
Grandmother was coughing so loud this morning I checked in on her. She had gone back to sleep, her chest gently rising and lowering as she takes raspy breaths. All in good time, I believe she will get better. But until then I visited the park instead of the grocery store to avoid Kyle. I know that will make her happy, thought it doesn't so the same for me. I like Kyle.
August 14th, 2006
Today was a terrible day at the park. Kyle was there. He's usually always at the grocery store... why did he come? Why did I notice him through the sea of small children? Why did his red hair tower above the swing-set and finger the chains and seats? Why is he here now, and not looking at the pots and pans and candles and knives? Why is he, instead, looking at me?
August 16th, 2006
I tried to outsmart Kyle. I went to the grocery store again instead of the park. Our town is very small with scarce people out and about during the morning hours. Around 3 in the afternoon, they usually cluster in the grocery store, the school yard, the park, or in their backyards playing games with groups of children. Kyle wasn't at the grocery store. I picked up my bag of half and half, medicine, cigarettes for grandmother, and some cloth to patch a Sunday Dress of mine. Though I don't like to go to church. People are always staring at me when I walk in clasping my hands neatly below my waist, looking down at the carpet and rows of seats. They are looking at my bandages.
August 17th, 2006
I returned to the park plentiful with giggles of babies and stamping feet of toddlers. This time, I saw Kyle sitting on one end of the see-saw. He wasn't moving. He didn't even blink. He just sat there and stared at the other end, high into the air because of his weight. He was wearing dark clothes that made his red hair stand out even more. His pale hands gripped the handles, his dark shoes held their hold on the wooden chips. And I did a brave thing. A wrong thing. I walked up to the see-saw with my shopping bag from my previous trip to the store and glanced at him through my left eye. "Hello," I mumbled. His fixed gaze of misty, grey eyes turned to me. He stood up and looked down at me, extending a gloved hand. "Hello," he said back and smiled a hard-pressed grin. For a minute, I was overwhelmed. How. How could someone so friendly strike grandmother as an element of evil? With my much smaller hand, almost the same white as his glove, I laid my palm in his. "Kyle?" His grey eyes heated up for a minute, and his lips formed a V of a smirk. "Ami, you sweet child. My name is Ami."
I am no longer in interest with Kyle. In fact, you could say he scares me beyond belief.