You Think You Know Me

• Aspen Jenkinson, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2020

The polluted air filled my lungs as I tried to stay calm. But the noisy taxi cabs, talking pedestrians and the overpowering boom of every towering building pitching its new helpful idea, was making it difficult. I had been in this new city for a while. It was a fresh start, but that’s just what the glossy pamphlet told me, and I didn’t decide to open it until I had stepped into this new chapter or my life. This was the mistake I would regret for the rest of my life. I tried to cover up my previous life with a bottle of hair dye, a new style and a different appearance but the possibility of someone knowing my true identity still haunted me, like a shadow or a feeling you could never shake. Paranoia filled me as I felt like everyone’s eyes were focused on me I felt like a statue on display being watched by each person that passed me by. I quickened my pace to blend in with the bustling chaos of this busy concrete jungle, New York. The streets were packed like sardines, as each soul with their own story hurried along to start their day. It was like a chose your own adventure book, but my chapter was titled Alyssa Coleson’s Lifelong Lie.

Finally I had escaped the paparazzi of my anxiety ghosts. I was safe in the platinum walls of another NYC skyscraper, people knew me, the fake me, the correct me. I walked along the same grey carpet as I did everyday and saw the imprinted footsteps that had been left by my co-workers. Then I reached the red cross on my map. My desk. The small island oasis where I spend 12 hours a day, perched behind a cheap, poorly painted sculpting of wood. And it I look up I see clones in the same position as me, sitting mindlessly punching in numbers just to make ends meat. I don’t study my other colleagues as too much engagement might give them an idea to look further. My heart still skips a beat when I see the newspaper headlines scared that I might be on there, but that’s the only emotion I feel all day. As you can tell my office is a beige platform of boring. My only way to see a colour splotch is when I look out the windows on my break and see the people below as they look like minuscule ants. But when those 720 minutes are over, I still like in a beige scheduled world. I go back to my shoe box apartment heat up dinner, sleep and the repeat the same event again. It’s bleak. But little did I know a turn was coming my way.

The morning my life went to hell. I started my day as usual breakfasts, get ready, leave but today I made a mistake. I changed my outfit as it was a hot day so my usual trench coat and beanie wouldn’t do. I decide that some jeans and a hat would do and didn’t think twice. The times was 8:45am. I was late. I rushed out the door and steam rolled through the paths of people. I felt something slip but it was too late my paranoia shadows were catching up I felt noticed and exposed. Someone called my name in the distance, but I kept knowing it was my mind playing tricks I had to go faster. I raced my self to that office and finally felt safe. But as I went to go sit down I felt something missing something was out of place as I reached into my poorly sewn pocket and screamed. This was my first attention catch everyone was staring. But they didn’t know my story. I lost my wallet. Now a random person has my information. They knew the truth. Who I was. What I had been keeping. They would notice me from headlines in the paper and know. I was a murder on the lamb.