Being Watched

Every day since I moved into the country- er- more into the middle of the woods I felt like I was being watched. I guess normal, moving into a new place.... right? No.

i felt watched. Like... WATCHED. 24/7. From the moment I wake up to the moment I lay my head down. Probably even after I go to sleep. It was strange, let’s say that. But the strangest part was that I didn’t know what was watching me. It felt inhuman, but not evil. Strange, but not crazy. Obsessive, but not weird.

i wanted to know what was watching me. Anyone could tell me I wasn’t being watched, but I know for a straight fact that I was.

life wasn’t so perfect with me, either. Dad was always at work, and mom had a drinking problem. So for a while it seemed like I was stuck with 3 things. My mind, the mirror, and the person watching me.

Days on end I would sit in front of my mirror and talk to it, about anything. I’d laugh at my own problems. I soon began to realize what I was doing was wrong. Being isolated In the middle of nowhere, a drunken abusive mom and a dad that wasnt there. It sucked. For a long time. Some days I would pack a bag and leave the house into the woods all day. Searching for the person watching me. Hoping that maybe they loved me. Hoping they would welcome me with open arms and a warm smile. A soft, soothing voice that would let me know it was going to be okay.

Honestly, I was a little scared. What if they weren’t the way I thought they were?

Day after day my life got worse. It felt like all feeling jn my body was leaving. It also seemed like whoever was watching me kept getting closer by the day.

One day I went into my kitchen quietly while mom was sleeping. I took a knife from the drawer and shakily presses it to my arm. The sharp blade made a long thin cut across my forearm. I stared at it intently in front of the mirror. Small beads of blood began to push through the surface of my my flesh.I stared at the cut as beads of blood turned into small waterfalls of it. I then did something I didn’t want to do. Or expect myself to do. I cocked my head back and laughed. Tears running down my face. The blood from my arm trickled to my hand. I ran my hands over my face and hair. Blood mixed with my hot tears as I laughed. I laughed at my mistakes. I laughed at my agony. I laughed at it all. I cried, too. I cried for my mistakes. I cried for my agony. I cried for it all.

taking the knife once more in my hand, I staggered outside. Tripping over my ow. Feet, blood pouring from my arm, tears rolling down my face, spit trickling from my mouth.

I stood in front of the woods. Then I saw him. The one who was watching me the entire time. I let out a breath I had been holding. I raised the knife to my wrist and shakily looked up at the tall, faceless, white figure in front of me. He stared at me, almost asking me or wondering what Inwa about to do. I pressed the blade to my wrist and quickly sliced.

I looked back up at him and smiled. He seemed to smile back at me. Suddenly, large black tentacles extended from his back. They reached out towards me. I raised my arms in surrender, blood rolling Dow n my arms in waterfalls.

the tentacles got closer and closer to me. I sobbed, but the smile still didn’t leave my face. The tentacles slowly and gently wrapped around my waist. They lifted me off the ground and slowly pulled me into the woods.