(Seriously, if you want to write, especially if you want to start out confused and frustrated and THEN write something, find one of these and try it out.)
Our prompt was simply "You have no idea who I am, do you?" and here are our takes.
Her Take:
What follows is the most frightening example of horror fiction that I could dream up. The characters and setting are real, the rest is a fever dream. Be afraid.
“You have no idea who I am, do you?”, she said from behind me.
I squeezed the handle of my shopping cart more tightly, drew a deep in-breath, and turned to face her.
Her whole being was furrowed into one enormous frown. She stood with forehead wrinkled, lips pursed, arms crossed, hip jutted, and eyes trained on me, accusatorily.
It seemed very unfair to be honest, because of course I knew her.
Flashback 20 seconds before my life had become so complicated.
There I was, turning my cart into the soup aisle, nary a care in the world. I didn’t even NEED to be there, it was just the next aisle in the store. Once a week take my cart up and down every aisle, in order, whether I need to or not. It makes me feel thorough.
I was scanning the aisle ahead of me, mentally calculating my route through it, when I saw her at the other end. She was staring intently at the shelf of cream soups so I made the snap decision to retreat.
Hear me out: I didn’t run, I’m not a monster. It was definitely more of a ‘scoot’, a ‘hitch in my giddy-up’ if you will, and I stopped once I was safely in the next aisle over, catching my breath between the coffee creamer and the pickles. It seemed like a perfect escape.
It wasn’t until I was confronted, ironically, with an angry voice from behind me that I realized I was wrong.
And let’s be really clear, you and I, because I’ve already told you that she was wrong. I knew that she had sat in the fourth or fifth seat from the front in the row to the right of me in Earth Science class when we were in 9th grade. I also remembered that we had the same study hall and lunch period when we were sophomores and that her best friend had dated a guy in our choir so she had sat within three or four seats of me at almost every lunchtime for most of that semester and had come back to our table when she started dating a different guy that was also in drama club. We had not NOT been friendly, and I knew her. I’ve even followed her casually on social media and have some idea of what she wants the world to know about her, at least.
I guess I could have said all of that to her face, I just don’t know how it would have come across. Ok, that’s a lie, I know it would have seemed weird for her to hear all of that less than a minute after she had witnessed my awkward sprint for the freedom of the next aisle, that’s obvious.
What I truly didn’t know is if I could have told her the whole truth instead of fabricating the easy-breezy version of myself and trying to dispurse the whole controversy with a casual flap of my arm and an awkward, “Oh my god! Of course I do!! I didn’t see you there!!! (**smiling too broadly and looking slightly insane**) How ARE YOU???”
But here’s the truth:
I saw her, I remembered her, I even thought fondly of her for a split second before I was overtaken by my own fear. Fear that she would see me, fear that she would remember me, and, most of all, fear that she would pass by me anyway with no hint of recognition because she didn’t like me.
There. Are you happy? There’s the gooiest, most fragile part of my heart.
And, hey, let’s not forget that it’s NOT supposed to go down like this AT ALL. If I go to the trouble to sneak away from you or, I mean, not sneak, definitely not sneak… it was just about ten quick steps away… that’s not the point. The point is that if I go to that trouble, even if you catch me, you are not supposed to confront me. That’s not fair. Just let it go, right?
But there we were, with me facing her, this person, still frowning, hands still on hips, and not at all sure what to say next.
Fortunately, she spoke.
“Uh, oh, yeah, it’s been forever! I’m good… good.”
And that was it, at least most of it. I won’t bore you with the polite chit-chat that happened from there. And I definitely won’t admit that I turned away from that conversation, went immediately to the checkout, and left the store as fast as I could purely because I knew that I would see her in aisle, after aisle, after aisle until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
You don’t need to know that. It’s embarrassing.
His Take:
You have no idea who I am, do you?
So, I decided to take this literally. However I think a lot of you do have some idea of who I am. So let me take one aspect of my life that you probably don’t know. It’s not something I go out of my way to talk about with anyone, I pretty much keep it to myself. If it does come up in conversation, I will talk about it a little, but never reveal the full truth. It’s not that I’m embarrassed about it, it’s because I don’t find many people that can talk about it on the level that I can. Basically, I have a secret hobby. More than a hobby, I would say it’s borderline on an obsession. I. Love. Sneakers. I love sneakers more than you. I love them more than a human being should. I am a non-practicing Sneakerhead. How did I get this way? Let’s back track a little.
The year was 1985, and I was 12 years old and in the 7th grade at Immanuel Lutheran School (represent!). That was the year that we were old enough to start playing basketball. Hmmmmm. Maybe it was the 6th grade when we started playing, I can’t remember exactly, but I know for sure that in the 7th grade, I was playing basketball (go Cougars!!). I had always watched basketball on TV, but when I hit the court I fell totally in love with the sport. Despite my great big chubby body, I was a decent player. Anyway, 1985 was the year that the very first Air Jordan’s came out. If I remember right, almost everyone on the team got a pair. They were pretty expensive ($65), but our parents were awesome. I remember I got mine at Foot Locker in the mall. We had to go 3 different stores before we found them in my size (at that time I was a 9). I’ll never forget when the salesman said “yeah, I’m sure we have a 9, let me go get them.”. When he turned and walked towards the back room, it seemed like it took him DAYS to get there. Then, it was 2 whole weeks before he came out of the back room (in reality, it was probably 2 minutes)!!!! He set the box down in front of my and I swear when he lifted the lid it was like when they opened the Ark of the Covenant in Raiders of the Lost Ark, just without the evil spirits flying out. The crinkle of the tissue paper sounded like a drumroll and then I saw the most perfect things I ever saw in my life. A spectacular pair of Air Jordan’s. They were black, white and red perfection.
After that, I was obsessed with sneakers. And I’m a Nike guy. I hate wearing any other shoes. My ideal pair is all white, although I do love shoes with color or all color (if it’s the right pair of shoes). I even have a plan if I win the lottery. It’s to buy a pair of the Back to the Future 2 Nikes that were released in 2016 with working power laces. There were only 89 pairs made and I’ve seen them go for over $100K.
So now you know something about me you didn’t before. I hope you enjoyed. God bless.
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