The Smiling Man

About five years ago I lived downtown in a major city in the US. I’ve always been a night person, so I would often find myself bored after my roommate, who was decidedly not a night person, went to sleep. To pass the time, I used to go for long walks and spend the time thinking.

I spent four years like that, walking alone at night, and never once had a reason to feel afraid. I always used to joke with my roommate that even the drug dealers in the city were polite. But all of that changed in just a few minutes of one evening.

It was a Wednesday, somewhere between one and two in the morning, and I was walking near a police patrolled park quite a ways from my apartment. It was a quiet night, even for a week night, with very little traffic and almost no one on foot. The park, as it was most nights, was completely empty.

I turned down a short side street in order to loop back to my apartment when I first noticed him. At the far end of the street, on my side, was the silhouette of a man, dancing. It was a strange dance, similar to a waltz, but he finished each “box” with an odd forward stride. I guess you could say he was dance-walking, headed straight for me.

Deciding he was probably drunk, I stepped as close as I could to the road to give him the majority of the sidewalk to pass me by. The closer he got, the more I realized how gracefully he was moving. He was very tall and lanky, and wearing an old suit. He danced closer still, until I could make out his face. His eyes were open wide and wild, head tilted back slightly, looking off at the sky. His mouth was formed in a painfully wide cartoon of a smile. Between the eyes and the smile, I decided to cross the street before he danced any closer.

I took my eyes off of him to cross the empty street. As I reached the other side, I glanced back… and then stopped dead in my tracks. He had stopped dancing and was standing with one foot in the street, perfectly parallel to me. He was facing me but still looking skyward. Smile still wide on his lips.

I was completely and utterly unnerved by this. I started walking again, but kept my eyes on the man. He didn’t move.

Once I had put about half a block between us, I turned away from him for a moment to watch the sidewalk in front of me. The street and sidewalk ahead of me were completely empty. Still unnerved, I looked back to where he had been standing to find him gone. For the briefest of moments I felt relieved, until I noticed him. He had crossed the street, and was now slightly crouched down. I couldn’t tell for sure due to the distance and the shadows, but I was certain he was facing me. I had looked away from him for no more than 10 seconds, so it was clear that he had moved fast.

I was so shocked that I stood there for some time, staring at him. And then he started moving toward me again. He took giant, exaggerated tip toed steps, as if he were a cartoon character sneaking up on someone. Except he was moving very, very quickly.

I’d like to say at this point I ran away or pulled out my pepper spray or my cellphone or anything at all, but I didn’t. I just stood there, completely frozen as the smiling man crept toward me.

And then he stopped again, about a car length away from me. Still smiling his smile, still looking to the sky.

When I finally found my voice, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. What I meant to ask was, “What the fuck do you want?!” in an angry, commanding tone. What came out was a whimper, “What the fuu…?”

Regardless of whether or not humans can smell fear, they can certainly hear it. I heard it in my own voice, and that only made me more afraid. But he didn’t react to it at all. He just stood there, smiling.

And then, after what felt like forever, he turned around, very slowly, and started dance-walking away. Just like that. Not wanting to turn my back to him again, I just watched him go, until he was far enough away to almost be out of sight. And then I realized something. He wasn’t moving away anymore, nor was he dancing. I watched in horror as the distant shape of him grew larger and larger. He was coming back my way. And this time he was running.

I ran too.

I ran until I was off of the side road and back onto a better lit road with sparse traffic. Looking behind me then, he was nowhere to be found. The rest of the way home, I kept glancing over my shoulder, always expecting to see his stupid smile, but he was never there.

I lived in that city for six months after that night, and I never went out for another walk. There was something about his face that always haunted me. He didn’t look drunk, he didn’t look high. He looked completely and utterly insane. And that’s a very, very scary thing to see.

SOURCE: anomaliesandcuriosities

Flawed

I am flawed.

As a child, I noticed that some kids seemed different from others. Some were taller, some were shorter. Some were stronger, others weaker. A few were smarter, a couple were dumber.

No matter their differences, they always seemed to dislike kids who were unlike them. The stronger bullied the weaker. The weaker despised the stronger. The skinnier mocked the fatter. And so on. But, what I never understood, was why they seemed to favor one trait over another. The ones with poor coordination envied those that could play sports, yet they also got along with the ones who did well in school. The dumb ones found solace among those who were bad at sports, simply because they were not singled out for having brains.

These prejudices seemed almost natural, ingrained into their minds from birth. Humans hate other humans simply because they have traits unlike or opposite their own.

But me, I love my flaws.

As I got a bit older, around the time I was 17, I had a revelation. I finally understood that people hated each other because they couldn’t come to appreciate the beauty of their own flaws! All I had to do was show them that they are all beautifully imperfect. It became my mission to sculpt the world around me, to do my part to make it a better place.

I thought it best to start with my family.

I had a fairly normal family structure. At least, by today’s standards.

My father was never around, although I was not sure as to why.

My mother raised me, my teenage brother and my little sister, pretty much by herself. I helped her when I was old enough.

My brother was only a year younger than me, so he was in that phase where he didn’t like any involvement with the family, whatsoever. I was understanding about it. I too, have experienced that feeling many a time.

My sister, however, was much younger than I was. Since my mom was always working, I looked after her. I formed a special bond with my little sister. I loved her so much.

So, I started my crusade by trying to explain the importance of flaws to my brother. He blew me off, as I suspected he would. When I talked to my mother, she was exhausted, barely even able to make it to her bed. I didn’t think my sister would comprehend what I was saying, since she was so young.

That’s when I decided I needed to teach them by force. I went to my mom’s room at about three in the morning. I figured she had four hours of sleep, she’d probably understand me now, right? I took a piece of glass and cut her exposed shoulder, up to her neckline. This woke her up in alarm. As she thrashed about, the glass escaped my grip!

Things seem hazy when I try to look back, but she stopped thrashing, so I know she must have understood. I remember returning to her bedside to get the glass back, but it must have shattered, or something, because all I could find was the corner of it, stuck in my mom’s throat.

Glass is not uncommon, so, I thought to myself, “Since she seemed to want it so much, I’ll let her keep it.” Leaving her room I went to the kitchen to acquire a knife, then proceeded to the garage to grab a rope. Seeing my mom’s reaction, I knew that I must take measures to keep my brother restrained.

I was able to tie a rope around his right arm, around the wrist area, but he awoke when I tightened it. He swung at me in a stupor but fell off his bed, taking the rope with him. When he didn’t get up, I checked on him, only to find the rope tied around his neck, not his wrist. Funny, I could have sworn I put it around his wrist…

No matter, I thought as I steadied my resolve. I pulled him back up on the bed and tied the other end of the rope to his bedpost, for security. Not being one to waste an opportunity when it presents itself, I jumped on the chance to give him flaws that shine. I made a few markings around his torso. One across his upper ribs, one on the left of his lower abdomen and one from the center of his chest, up on an angle to his collarbone.

I also marked the sides of his arms. Then I left him one last flaw along the base of his neck, below the area covered by the rope.

“Perfect,” I thought to myself. Perhaps my mom and my brother could bond over the flaws I just gave them. But, I can’t leave out my sister, of course!

I went into her room, but was surprised to find her awake, sitting on her bed. “What was all that noise?” she asked.

“It was just me helping Mom and our brother become closer” I replied.

She responded with, “How so?”

“Well, I gave them markings to give them something in common.”

“What kind of mark?”

“Well,” I had to stop and think for a moment. How do I explain this to a child?

Pulling a blank as to how to sugar-coat it, I just decided to take a chance and be honest. I hoped she could get it.

“I gave them both markings, so that they could understand their… err… Well, flaws.”

“Flaws?” she said.

“Yes, flaws. You know, things that make us special.”

“You can give those to people?”

“Yes! You’re quite the smarty, aren’t you?”

“Mom always told me I was.”

“She was right.”

My sister noticed the knife in my hand. “What’s that for?” she asked. I smiled and replied, “I used this to give our brother special flaws.” She was much smarter than I thought she was. Perhaps she could understand after all.

“Can I try to give special flaws?”

Her eagerness to learn and explore made me smile.

“Of course you can!” I said, as I handed her the knife.

“How do I do it?”

“It’s easy. Just press the silver end onto skin and pull.”

“Can I try it on you?”

This was a perfect moment for me. The one person who understood was the one person I cared for the most!

“Of course you can!” I told her. I was really getting caught up in the moment.

She first pressed into my shoulder and pulled. I barely felt a thing. I was too ecstatic to notice any pain.

“See?” I said, ” You just gave me a special flaw!”

At that moment, I was so proud of her. She asked to give another, so I allowed her to. She pressed the blade against my back and pulled. I felt almost nothing.

I loved my sister dearly. I was happy I could show her the beauty of flaws.

“Can I make one more? Pleeeeaseee?”

I couldn’t say no to someone so adorable and close to me.

“Yes! You can make me special!”

She put the blade to the left side of my throat and pulled it back. I didn’t feel a thing that time. I mean, after that, things got a bit blurry. I felt very tired. I was having trouble staying awake. I just had to lie down for a moment…

I looked up at my sister and smiled. Things became faded and dark.

Looking back, I still don’t understand my logic on why I did what I did. I guess it was just one of my flaws.

source: sabrinamx3