You are running.
Running from the man who was never there.
It all started with a glimpse; a split-second image of a man without a face. So easily dismissed, the way one dismisses the masses of people whose faces you never really see.
Then you saw him again. Just a moment longer. Just enough to make you wonder if your eyes weren't playing tricks on you. Just enough to make you doubt yourself before laughing at your folly.
The third time you knew something wasn't right. Not that something was wrong, just that something wasn't right.
And then the glimpses ended, and you realized that your folly had been not not believing your eyes when they tried to warn you that what you saw was too tall, too fast, too uncanny. You don't remember where, but you saw him. It might have been the park, it might have been your room, but you saw him. He was watching you. Somehow, without eyes he was watching you.
You remember a moment of terror. Then nothing. You found yourself alone in a place you had never been before, many months later.
Then you wonder why.
You call your own life into question, searching for not only your lost months but finding moments that were lost for so much longer.
Old recordings, he's sneaking in between the frames. Precious memories from your childhood - corrupted, changed, by the man you had only just seen.
Birthday parties, picnics, school trips - he was there watching. With all those people around, he was watching. With all those people around no-one was watching him. With all those people around no-one saw him.
You never saw him.
Then you wonder if you never did. How many times did you "forget"? No-one remembers their whole childhood - is he a reason why?
How many times had these events played out?
Did he hide until you saw him? Did he hide until you found him? He watched you for so long... why did he have to try and find you?
Was this... a game? Was... that what "found you" meant?
Now you realize that he let you remember him this time.
You are hiding.
Hiding from the man who was always there.