I sat on my couch in front of my TV, staring intently at the men's wear catalogue, nervously eyeing the tall and thin suit on the page. That long, black with a white tie. It made the suit look just like it. Just like the thing who'd been following me.
It all started about a month ago. I was walking my dog in the park when he started to go crazy. He darted off into the nearby woods and I lost sight of him. After a few hours of searching, it was getting dark, and I decided to give up. He would probably come home: dogs always do. I walked back out into the park, onto the cement path. It was about 7 o'clock, and the park was dimly lit by the poorly maintained lamp posts. That's when I saw him. Standing at the end of the path was a tall man in a suit. It was too dark to make out anything else. I didn't know what to make of it. It just stood there, motionless and erect. I thought of approaching it, but my gut told me it was a bad idea. I decided that taking the back exit out of the park would be the best option. The image of the strange man left me feeling uneasy, but I convinced myself it was just a random man. Oh, how wrong I was.
A few nights later, I was just about to go to bed. Following my usual routine, I dropped my dirty dishes in the sink, locked the door, and went to the window to shut it. When I went to that window, I was horrified. On the other side of the street, the man. It was standing motionless, staring across at my house. I quickly shut my window and pulled the curtains across. I ran to my phone and called the cops, reporting strange activity around my house. About half an hour later, two cops showed up and looked around. They found nothing and assured me that no one was sneaking around. I didn't believe them. Nervously, I locked myself in my room that night.
A week went by and my paranoia was getting the better of me. I constantly checked all my windows, I locked all my doors. No one was getting in and no one was getting out. I'd seen the man a few times since I called the police, and I didn't bother calling them again. This was a matter that they couldn't help me with. I felt like I was being watched constantly. I slept with the lights on. The noises outside were getting louder, but I ignored them. Then it happened, I opened my eyes and the tall man no more than five feet from the end of my bed. I saw it, I saw it's long spindly arms. It was tall and thin. And the face... oh God... its face... There was nothing more terrifying then that. I immediately leapt out of my bed, screaming as its appendages shot towards me. I crouched into a ball in the corner of the room and shut my eyes. I didn't want to open them, I couldn't see it again. I waited. When I opened my eyes, it was morning, and it was gone.
The incident that occured that night shook me to my core. I boarded up my doors and windows, grabbed my father's 12 gauge from the attic, and keep it with me. I'm sitting here, looking through old magazines and catalogues. I can see its reflection in the screen of my television, I know it's standing right behind me. I don't want to see it again. Oh God, I don't want it looking at me anymore... You know, this shotgun is loaded... Maybe if I just put it in my mouth and pull the trigger... Yes... I'll do that...