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Corner of Your Eye

By Adam Smith All Rights Reserved ©


Short Story


Have you ever been out walking and thought you saw someone standing there out of the corner of your eye? A complete stranger, just standing there staring at you for no reason, but when you turn your head you find there’s no one there? Freaky, right?

I was out walking with Jeff when it happened. Just walking home. Same old same old. I wouldn’t even bother writing about it if not for how weird it was. We were just going along talking about some stupid thing or another when I glanced down the alley. It was only for a second but I swear there was someone there, some woman, staring at me. Watching me. I had to stop and look again, but when I did there was no one there. I don’t know, maybe it was just one of those weird glitches your brain has from time to time. There was a stop sign around the place I saw her. Maybe that was it.


I think I saw her again today.

I was running the bins out last minute. As usual. The neighbourhood is always so quiet after dark. It’s like everybody’s afraid something’s going to jump out and grab them. Normally I’m not bothered by the dark. It’s spooky but nothing to cry home about. I was halfway down the path when I suddenly got the feeling I was being watched, but when I turned around I didn’t see anyone. I just shrugged it off and took the garbage to the road, admittedly a bit quicker than usual.

I was just finished putting everything in its required place when I saw her. Standing at the other end of the street, covered in filthy black rags. I couldn’t see her face beneath the rags, but I knew she was looking at me. I crumpled to the curb unable to take my eyes off her. The lights changed and a car sped past and suddenly she was gone. I’d write it off as me seeing things, jumping at shadows, but I still remember the chill that ran through me when she saw I was looking.


She knows where I live.

It was hot today, so I was opening the window to let some air into the place, and there she was just standing outside the building looking up. She saw me looking and raised a single withered hand in my direction, the rags around her head moving in the breeze like a bag of snakes. Gave me chills. After much internal debate, I ran outside to tell her to get lost, but when I got there she was already gone. This is starting to freak me out.


There’s something wrong with her face.

I went to go outside today, got so far as unlocking the door, when I felt that chill again. I stopped with my hand on the doorknob and peaked through the peep-hole. She was out in the hallway. RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY DOOR! Like she was waiting for me. Spying through my little fisheye I was able to see more than I’d ever want to. Hiding beneath those grotty black bandages was a grotesque mask of disfigurement. Like she’d been French kissing a meat slicer. I don’t know if she’s still there or not, but I locked the door and went back inside. I’ve decided I’m staying home today. If this keeps up I’m calling the cops.

8/8 (3am)

She was here!

I woke up and there was someone standing over my bed. I could feel someone breathing on me. In the dark I could kind of see her there, watching me, but when I turned on the light there was no one there. No trace. I don’t know how, but she was in my room. I’m sure of it. I’ve checked every room, turned on all the lights, tested all the locks. Nothing. Maybe it was just a dream. At any rate, I don’t think I’ll be getting back to sleep again.


Nothing to report.

Maybe I was overreacting.


I was wrong.

I thought she’d left me alone. I thought it was over. I was wrong. Just sitting at my computer doing work when the screen went dark for half a second as a new page loaded. That’s when I saw her. Her hideous scar-covered face hovering over my shoulder, close enough for me to reach out and touch her. She never left. She’s been with me the whole time. Standing behind me. Watching. Waiting. What does she want?

8/13 (11:38pm)


I can feel her breathing on the back of my neck. I know she’s there. I don’t know how I didn’t notice before. She’s standing behind me. Always behind me. Wherever I go. She doesn’t like being looked at. Whatever I do, I must not look at her. I mustn’t turn around. No matter what I must not look at her.

Don’t turn around. I can see her moving out of the corner of my eye. Getting closer.

Don’t turn around. She’s holding something out behind me.

Don’t look at her. She hates being looked at.


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