Fated

Everyone in the town of Thomasville knew Freda was as timid as a dormouse, but nobody could understand why. People just said she was high-strung as an infant and grew more overstrung the older she got. Everything made her jumpy as hell and she was always fidgeting with her mahogany brown hair as she looked over her slumped shoulders. She was just a big bundle of raw nerves, ready to take instant flight. She took everything as a dark, evil omen and would make the Sign of the Cross for no reason whatsoever.

Rumor had it that Freda was the most paranoid person in the town, swearing to everyone that she was being followed. Folks laughed as they told the tale about her throwing her brand new Nokia cell phone in the garbage, all the while she apprehensively claimed she was being tracked through the device’s features. The townsfolk could only shake their heads in confusion as she refused to sleep anywhere two nights in a row, becoming alarmed if anyone tried to force her into staying put and telling all who would listen that she’d be found if she did.

She was a quaking mess who bit her fingernails to the quick. Always anxious, going to a beauty salon made her uneasy, so her beautiful hair flowed long and thick. Her hands trembled from fear too much for her to apply makeup, so she seldom wore any, always looking naturally pretty. Too faint-hearted, she never dressed in bright colors or patterns, rarely drawing attention to herself.

No one understood what would make her such an antsy person, for she had a loving childhood with the most wonderful, understanding parents. Children of all ages have always been kind to her, never bullying Freda for her timorous ways. The townspeople of Thomasville had always gone out of their way to try and make her comfortable because even though she was such a tense young lady, she had an extremely kind disposition.

As Freda walks through the small town, disquiet shows at each step. Everyone watches as she nervously looks everywhere, wondering what she is frightened of this time. Some folks shake their heads at her unassertive character and others say she’s always afraid of something. All eyes are drawn to her cowering, lanky frame as she moves down the sidewalk, quietly mumbling to herself.

All the while, they overlook me, the shadowy figure lurking in the fringes of Freda’s life for as long as she can remember. I, who was the one who took control of her hot pink cell phone, turning the camera on, and sending her random text messages, before she trashed it. Whispering to her while she sleeps all the things that will be done to her, is me right by her ear. I stalk her brazenly, knowing we are fated to be and no one can stop it.

It’s always been me hunting her since time began, long ago in a past life, and it always will be me hunting her in lives to come. Born under the same stars, governed by the same constellations, ours has been a celestial conflict, raging throughout the ages. In the battle of Good versus Evil, the God-fearing versus the godless, we fight a preordained war where the outcome is always the same, her and I.

Through the eras, in every generation, in one culture or another, we have lived. She was born to die, I to live. Predestined, we move in an orchestrated dance toward a marked finish line. For tonight, it is written in the stars, her blood will flow.