The air conditioner repair man.

This story is from a childhood experience (7y/0) and I still to this day (24 y/o) haven’t forgot it. 

To set the scene:

It was an overcast day and my parents called out the air conditioning repair people. Note people plural. My bedroom had a large window with my bed directly by it, in clear view of the AC unit outside of it.  

I was cleaning up my room and took a break when I heard one of the men talking to my parents. I hid anytime people came over, I’ve never been one to willingly be present with company of any sort. I hear the door close and see him outside of my window. The first man is tinkering with things I don’t understand. He walks back to what I can only assume is his truck to get more tools. He comes back with two men. They were just stood behind him. They wore the same worn, distressed blue jumpsuit with white name patches in the corner. The two men behind him, shifted their focus from his working to me. We made eye contact for an uncomfortably long time. A creeping sensation of adrenaline and fear consumed me. I went to the living room, out of sight, until a generous amount of time had passed. I hear the front door open and sprint to my room. My parents not seeing anything out of the ordinary, didn’t pay my running any mind. The two men were still outside of my window, not working but staring, almost with intent, while the man who i’d initially saw was talking to my parents again. I couldn’t make out the words through my closed door. I looked towards my door to see if I could hear clearer, essentially begging the universe to hear him say they were done, only to look back and see those two men were gone. Without a sound, without trace, just gone. A short while later I hear the truck pull off and relieved, run and ask my parents why they took so long. Only to be answered “who?” To which I replied the guys that were working on the air. The response I was handed felt like an ice cold blade through my spine. “ The man left. You can come out if you want.” I uttered out “what about the other two?” To which I was informed there was only one man. A one man job, a one man truck, and an in and out repair. The two men, his coworkers, in matching uniform and untrusting stares didn’t exist. I had my first true encounter of surreal horror. You could have took everything I owned and I’d still tell you they were real. So detailed, so aware, so perfectly timed that no one else could confirm nor deny. I was mortified. Over a decade later and my heart still stops when I remember them.