[ WP ] [ WP ] A man suffering from paranoid delusions believes everyone who looks at him in public has been sent back in time to observe him , and wonders what great - or terrible - act he 'll commit in the future to warrant the attention .

He managed to find refuge in an alleyway overcast by two looming office buildings. 
 
 *thump* *thump* *thump* 
 
 Sensations were rising through his body still, heart refusing to subdue. His mind was a cauldron of convictions, whistling away. They're everywhere, he thought. Too many faces. Too many eyes and odd looks. So much question and judgment. 
 
 The paranoia had only increased in recent months, and although prescribed by his doctor to take a tablet whenever an episode like this occurred, he had silently ignored these orders. For a long while he suffered from a deep phobia towards strangers - as much as a sideways glance from someone walking down the street would spark a fierce volley of interrogation that could only lead down the wildest of his thoughts. They were from the future, he'd concluded once, sent to observe and watch over him. Not for just any reason though - the constant internal hammering he'd subjugated himself to had destroyed any positive view of himself, so naturally these strangers were there to either stop or bear witness to the early life of a would-be madman. 
 
 But for the present, he leaned and breathed heavily against the concrete walls of the alley, peering out every once in a while to the mean city streets to reaffirm his safety. He had only just managed to escape, he thought, from whomever was chasing him. Trudging down the city square earlier a hand had yanked his shoulder and whisked his body round, but before even getting a good look at the culprit he had turned and run far away from the dense crowds, sure he was being watched and chased by anyone, everyone. It had taken just a few minutes to reach this safe haven, but he felt ironically protected in the grey, gulping shadows of these new towering blocks. 
 
 He often wondered what chaos his future self had caused to warrant such attention. Did he kill? Was he a tyrant? A mad scientist? A dissident that sought the downfall of government? Whatever it was, these predictions along with thousands of others had fallen down a deep well in his mind that had congealed into some dark, pulsating vision of a future dystopia ravaged by evil, his evil. 
 
 He looked up now. A figure stood at the entrance to the narrow alleyway. Without seeing their face he knew who it was. For a split second he to started run again, but realised he was blocked in at the other end by a brick wall. There was nothing he could do. 
 
 The figure walked over, and as they got closer he could make out their features. It was a man, older than him. They were short, thin, despite wearing a baggy coat. Their hair was like his - frazzled and brown, if a bit greyer, and their face was soft but worn by time. The eyes were brooding, unwelcoming, but seemed to pierce perception, almost as if he had stared at them before. They walked slow and heavily too, as if weighted with burden. But now they stood before him, and spoke. 
 
'I think you know where I'm from' 
 
 He did n't reply, too scared to talk; they carried on. 
 
'But not why I'm here?...' 
 
 Again they gave him time to reply, but none came. They spoke in a grave, crackly voice, and although weaved with wisdom, it brought as much caution as it did fear. 
 
'Well, I am indeed here to watch you. I have been following you in the streets, through the crowds and in the empty space, even when you think I'm not there.' 
 
 The man spoke for the first time, his heart thumping like never before. 
 
'Why?' he pleaded'Who am I?' 
 
 He had slid on his knees to the gravel pavement now, desperate yet never wishing to know what answers lay ahead. The figure replied 
 
'Though I'm not supposed to say this, I feel...........' they trailed off 
 
'I'm you' 
 
 He looked up in disbelief. 
 
'Yes' they continued'I've come back to watch you. I only did so hoping perhaps you would n't wander down the same dark path I did. But now here we are... and I feel all I can do is to warn you' 
 
'Warn me of what? What have you been doing?' he cried 
 
'My mind is fearful, it is full of hatred, trapped in chains. This is not you in 40 years time, 30 years time, 20 - this is just 10 years from now, dry skin, grey hair, weak eyes. The paranoia, the stress, the self-loathing - that's are what caused this' they pointed at themselves. 
 
'I do not expect you to understand any of this, nor am I going to reveal how I've managed to come back or even speak to you' they continued'But take this as a warning - there are no faces around you. There is nothing behind you. There is no hell waiting below'. 
 
'But, but --' he tried to plead with them. He went to grab the man's trousers but could not reach. Scrambling up, he went to follow the man as they were walking out of the alley, but when he looked up again, they were gone. He peered out into the streets, but there was no sign of anyone else. He waited a few minutes hoping they would come walking back down them, but they never returned. 
 
 Slumbering back to his spot in the alley under the shadows of the buildings, he thought a for a time about what the man - he - had said.
