[ you are being watched ]



In the half-light of the dying moon, you are being watched. Your high heels click on the cold pavement you walk upon; a mantra that tells you to go ever-faster as your skin begins to prickle. There it is, that forgotten instinct. You are being watched, and you know it. Isn't that the most frightening part of it all? You don't know where I am.

Quietly, you tell yourself that there is no-one there - and for all you know, there might not be! Perhaps your insecurity and fear is just kicking into overdrive, spurring your imagination onward. These thoughts run through your mind, too; I can see them, the little electrical currents that flash on and on and on through the brain. But then, predictably, you grow doubtful once more.

I make a deliberate noise; a subtle cough, carried by the wind and the stars. I see sweat on your brow as your clicking heels quicken again; I see your tongue flick out nervously over your lower lip; I see your eyes, so wide and perceptive, and a beautiful shade of terrified. Whyever do you wear that mask of false products and deceit? Your natural visage is much more appealing.

Sadly, that is the last thing on your mind. I move quickly; still watching, my eyes never leaving you. And not once but twice, you whip your head around and look straight back at me. But in your fright, you do not register my gaze, and turn back around, fast walk turning to a speedy trot. And then when my speed quickens, something snaps in you, and you flat-out run.

Your heels almost burn the pavement as you flee, handbag dangling dangerously at your side, hair falling from its neat bun and cascading down your shoulders. I, unlike you, do not need to watch where I am going. The stars are the ones that carry me; the wind is the one that guides me. I am part of the earth, whereas you, little girl, do not belong at all.

I do not intend to hurt you, no, but I will make it clear to you that, from this night on, you will not escape my stare. I will haunt you, a living ghost, hidden in this half-life of reality. I am your shadow; I am the rustle of the curtains; I am the flicker of the lights; I am the sweet scent of forest breath, and the tranquil ripple of the lake's slumber.

I see you.

ocean's picture

Intense. o_o

Intense. o_o
Sypris's picture

you have talent, putting

you have talent, putting words together like this. pieces of this gave me the shivers ♥

Sweet baby Jesus you are

Sweet baby Jesus you are amazing. |:

Ocean; c: Cheeeers. Sypris;

Ocean; c: Cheeeers.
Sypris; Gooood. ♥ Thankyou.
Kate; dude I'm not Jesus >C
Pegasicorn's picture

Creepy. o_o

Creepy. o_o
J!n's picture

Holy fu-, so intense. You're

Holy fu-, so intense. You're a good writer.

Thanks both ♥

Thanks both ♥
theano's picture

Ahhhh a beautiful shade of

Ahhhh a beautiful shade of terrified! To feel that alert, to be that close to the edge is a close to alive that you ever get. All because the eye is upon you and all that ever was or ever will be is known about you in that moment. Mirror Mirror on the wall can I stand before I fall! Delicious truth writing wrapped up in creative flowing similies and metaphors! Twisted

♥ Thanks so much. I

♥ Thanks so much. I love your analysis.
quadraptor's picture

Quad:

Quad: *shuddershuddershudderfreakingshudder!!*

This is epic!

Cheers! -pets Quad-

Cheers!

-pets Quad-