Restricted
As I sit in the lonely old convenience store I hear the soft hum of the luminescent bulbs overhead. They work terribly, dim and flickering every couple moments. Though it irks me, the money here pays well enough to get me by each month and that isnât something I can pass up over a light. But this is not why Iâm here speaking to you right now. You know that shadow? That one just in the corner of your sight that you canât quite catch? Yes that. It has been haunting me, day in and day out. I am afraid I cannot explain it, but I know heâs there. No, I do not know who âheâ is, but I know I do not like him. Itâs hard to explain but I am not fearful of this man, merely weary of him. It is always in the back of my mind that he is there.
Suddenly I am forced back into reality as somebody bursts into the store, itâs my boss. Sheâs all wet. As I glance out the window I understand why. Itâs raining, no, scratch that. Itâs absolutely pouring. I hear her let out a long sigh and then she tells me to get out and go home to rest. I must look really tired, but thereâs no way to tell with her because sheâs always nice, but never sincere.
In response to her words I get up and put my hood over my head. Then as I step out into the rain, my feet instantly get wet and cold in the sloshing freshly fallen rain water. I soon find myself waiting at the bus stop. Rain soaking my clothes and making the thick fabric of my wool sweater cling to my skin. Finally I see the door open in front of me, somehow I hadnât even noticed the bus arrived until it was right in my face. I step on the bus and sit in the middle seat, the dim flickering streetlights overhead barely lighting the path beyond. Though I do not care much. There are four other people on the bus besides myself and the driver. The first is a seemingly homeless man, gnawing on his own finger out of hunger or boredom I assume, Iâve actually never seen him on this route before. The other two are tipsy women, they are giggling in the back of the bus and in matching black dresses, probably from some party. Iâm glad to announce that none of these people approached me on this ride, so Iâm soon able to get off and jog into my apartment, the rain still drenching everything around me. I get inside and slump up the stairs, walking past a couple people (they gave me little to no attention thank God) and getting to my apartment, to close the door swiftly. Without a momentâs delay I head straight for the bed and flop down onto it, my body sinking into the soft mattress. My teeth and hair stay unbrushed and my clothes stay wet, but itâs okay. Tomorrow. I can deal with it tomorrow.
***
Moments later (though it could have been hours, you never know with sleep) I wake up with a start, gasping and jumping out from the tangled sheets. Then I quickly groan and grab my head, feeling the aching throb of my heart beat splitting through my skull. Nevertheless I stand up straight and wait for the pain to pass on. As I finally contain myself I try to gaze around the room, though the pitch darkness does not allow me to do so. Itâs so dark itâs as if it were night. For a moment as I woke up I really thought it could be night, but now Iâve come to my senses there is simply no way it could be. I rush to my windows in the dark, waving my hands in front of me wildly, panicking at the thought of being in a dark room when light could be streaming in. I find the fabric and yank it open, the light indeed all pouring into the room and instantly putting me at ease. The curtains were closed. Though itâs weird, I never close my curtains. Not before panicking a bit and gaslighting myself do I head off to shower, dress and brush my teeth. After this I get up, waltzing out the door and walking to my favourite cafe in town, the only one I go to in fact. I buy a coffee and sip it as I head home, trying to ignore the shadow like-man following me from the corner of my eyes. I head back into my apartment and a short woman with fair skin and big blonde hair stops me, shoving a microphone in my face. She is talking about something, quickly and with a bright smile on her face. There is a camera too, which is the main reason I donât hear a word she says. The man holding the camera looks just as excited as her, but not as young. Heâs quite middle aged with a fresh shaven face and black eyes that give me a chill. His irises are the same colour as his pupils and it gives me the thought that maybe I canât see what heâs looking at. I imagine the pupils turning to move without me knowing, always looking at me. I stay not another moment before turning away quickly and speed walking up the stairs. Behind me I hear the man grumbling and the woman huff while I continue one. I assume not many people stop to acknowledge them here. This is a small town, most people know each other and do not move out of here besides to a fancy wooden box in the earth. Whenever I watch movies I always see people flooding to the reporters to get on television, but people here donât much like to be disturbed, especially by people like reporters, the less they know the better.
Today is weird. Nobody in the halls. Not a single college student is drinking or doing stupid things to ruin my day. I guess thatâs nice, just a bit different. I hate it. I hate when something isnât how it should be. I walk in my room and drink the rest of my coffee before trashing it. Then I fall down to my couch with heavy eyes, yet somehow it takes me a long time to get to sleep. Itâs getting harder and harder to sleep every day. Not because Iâm anxious or on medication or anything, but it feels too dark, darker than normal. Like the blackness around me is somehow more black. I told you. I know heâs there. I even hear him on occasion now. Sometimes itâs soft breathing beside my bed when Iâm trying to sleep. Sometimes itâs the sound of a doorknob turning when Iâm the only one home. And sometimes (this being the one that tortures each hour of my life) is that of the sound of a singular footfall from behind. A soft sound, like somebody is in socks and stepping carefully against wooden boards of my apartment. If youâre not quiet youâll miss it. Though I donât hear it often, when I do it chills me down to my very bone marrow. Each step. Each soft pad against the floor gets steadily nearer. I didnât notice it at first as they are so far apart in time, but when I think back to the first time it occurred the noise was much farther than now. And yes I did tell you I can see him, sound isnât the only part, but, only out of the corner of my eye. Itâs infuriating! I wish he would leave and stop tormenting me! But alas, not everyone gets what they want.
***
I take the bus to work like every other day. The bus is decently busy, but not with people I recognize. Some are news reporters, some are tourists, but you can tell none of them are not from here. I find myself drifting off to sleep as the drive goes on, making it feel longer than normal in an odd way. I eventually got there, to that old gas station. I step off the bus and trudge to the front door of the convenience store. I particularly hate this place because it is surrounded by dark woods that seemingly lead into nothing. Though I am thankful that it is here, as I can actually get hired at this place. I walk sluggishly and the guy behind the register doesnât even greet me. As soon as he sees my face he clocks out and leaves, clearly thankful to get out. So I sit behind the counter just as he once was, tired and bored. Until of course the sound of the car completely fades, leaving just me and the man. Iâm looking down at a magazine but I can see him, right to my left. A darkness that threatens to swallow me whole. I canât see him, yet at the same moment I can see the very outline of his darkness. Though as soon as my eyes turn to him the evidence of his existence is completely shattered, just stained yellow tinted walls with a few posters scattered about.
***
My shift goes on like normal, almost no customers, the occasional drunk man needing to eat something desperately and the one tall man that looks like a lumberjack who Iâm sure I see every night. Soon my boss comes in, messy haired and clearly tired, I guess she overslept. She doesnât speak and goes to the till, rubbing her eyes. I clock out quickly and bolt out of the store with no speech muttered. Rapidly I head to the bus stop, just to end up waiting for it to arrive. This time I watched the bus turn the corner and stop in front of me. I get on and there is only one man on the bus. Not a homeless man, not the giggling women, just me, the bus driver and the man. So I sit down in my usual spot and look at the window, watching the man right behind me. Heâs easier to see in mirrors, but is always right behind me, so close I only see his outline of him right there, like heâs my shadow. Itâs so strange, like I can see him, not disappearing like he normally does, but instead hiding directly behind me. Whether from his mistakes or just to frighten me (which always works) I can see him all the time, though like I described, just an outline.
***
As soon as I get back into my apartment building I feel better, briskly walking up the stairs. On the second floor I see that woman again, she (of course) is with that camera man, and I watch her knock on a door, then call out for someone. I know the man that lives there, he is old and very kind, but he would surely not answer his door to her. As I watch her try again and him in return, not answering then her eyes shift and land on me. They light up in such a way that I know couldnât be good.
âThank goodness! Sir, may I ask you some questions?â Instead of doing something reasonable I sprint up the stairs to the 5th floor and lock myself inside my apartment. I sit on the floor quickly and hear her banging on the door, yelling: âSir! Sir, we really need to ask you some questions!â I completely ignore this until they go away, not moving a single muscle in my body until I hear them completely gone. As they walk away I hear her ranting loudly, but the only words I can really make out are â...wonât tell us anything!â Once Iâm free from them I make myself some food. I sit on my couch and chew the toast dryly, trying to put off the dark man standing in the corner of my room.
***
I wake up the next morning, my eyes heavier than normal. I probably slept in, but it doesnât matter because itâs Saturday. I look at my phone. Oh⊠Itâs not Saturday⊠I stare at the screen, my room completely dark, the exception being my phone light. (my lights have been turning off and my blinds close every night. I think itâs him, but Iâm getting used to it like everything else) and reads May 12th⊠That would not be weird if yesterday was May 11th, but it was not. It was the 10th yesterday. I completely missed a whole day and I donât remember it. Or I slept through it.
***
I go through my day, extra cautious, always looking around the room with nervous glances. I eat my food, then brush my teeth, then I go to the couch, sitting and reading my book, finally relaxing now that nothing has happened. I sit, quite calmly actually as my eyes scan each work on my page, when I suddenly hear the most chilling awful noise I have ever heard in my life. A soft footfall right behind my body. My body goes rigid, completely stiff with fear. As if on instinct my breath holds in my lungs, silent to hear what is to come. But what comes next is not something you can hear. As if on command all the lights burn out. My body rises, looking to the light switch. Itâs up. Nobody turned off the lights, itâs as if all the bulbs simultaneously overheated and blew out. I practically sprint to my bed, searching like a madman for my phone. Itâs not there. I think over my day, images flashing through my mind, but I canât think of anything. I must have left it somewhere in my apartment, not that I could find it in this light. The next best thing to my phone is just to leave, so I run to the door and grasp at the doorhandle. It doesnât budge, not an inch. My hands fiddle for the lock, but as I feel around it becomes more apparent in my mind that the lock mechanism has disappeared. Just vanished, like it never existed! As if some external being was keeping me from leaving. To get to my front door there is a sort of hallway. This is usually nice as people cannot look as they please into my home whenever I answer the door, but now it is an absolute nightmare! The only light from my room is now coming from my windows on the opposite end of my room and the make-shift hall blocks me from seeing anything at all. So instead of my earlier mindless fumbling I rush to the windows, staying as close as possible to the light. But to my dismay something happens, gradually, so slowly that I scarcely notice. As I sit, my back to the window and eyes wide on the dim room in front of me, the dimness starts to get dimmer. My eyes bulge out of my head in terror and my head whips to look at the window. The glass is growing darker, like it is being stained with a dark liquid. The very worst part of this all, is that there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I watch helplessly as the window morphs to a pitch shade of black, leaving me to sit in the dark. My eyes are so wide it almost hurts and my breathing is fast and heavy, making it the only thing I can hear. I wait, fear and panic stuck to my body like honey. I wait for whatever is tormenting me to scare me in some dramatic way, But the longer I wait nothing happens. My breathing slows as time passes and I stay curled into a ball. Now I notice something I hadnât before, two white lights somewhere near my front doorâs hall. I donât know if they were always there, or if they slowly appeared as I was in distress. The lights are almond shaped, though a bit larger than almonds. They do not move and are horizontal to one another. If I was standing they would be about eye height with me. All at once I felt hot tears streaming down my face, apparently I began crying without even knowing. At once I know the reason for my tears and press my back up against the window, letting out an ear shattering scream that Iâm surprised came from my mouth. That doesnât make me stop though. I scream and scream until my throat refuses to give me anymore, making my throat raw and extremely sore. At that point I began to cry and plead, not knowing if he cares about my dread, but hoping it means something, that is, anything to him. That man that has tormented me all my life has finally come and I know this shall be my final night alive. That man from the corner of my eye, the one I cannot get out of my head, but this time I stare directly at him and he does not hide. This in itself scares me, but I hate the fact I can only see his eyes, I wish he was more visible to me. My lips quiver and my eyes stream tears, but his form does not move. At least according to the almond shaped orbs that I can see he does not. Then I begin to think, maybe it isnât anything, maybe it truly just lights, as they havenât moved an inch. Though right before I let my guard down completely the lights blink, as if attached to a live body. I freeze up in pure terror once more, my eyes wide as the luminescent eyes begin to move towards me, so smooth youâd think he was gliding towards me. I feel my throat stinging and my face wet from my crying. Tears stream down my face, though no noise emerges. It dawns on me that he doesnât actually care how scared I am, heâll keep walking, so I frantically search for something around me, finding the latch to open my window. I quickly swing it open to find it is now dark as midnight, though I remember it being day not ten minutes before, maybe time passed faster than I thought. I can see because of the faint moonlight, not too well, but anything helps. I glance back, seeing the man getting nearer, then I look down. I can see a bit more light at the bottom, due to a streetlamp. Itâs a very high drop, but I fear that man will reach me over death. Death is a sure end to this madness, I have no idea what he might do. I do not waste another moment jumping from my window sill. Soon a body lies at the bottom of my apartment window. The body is lifeless and completely still, painted in his own fear that appears bright red.
