Author's note: This pasta is based on events I actually experienced. Certain elements of the story might not be true, but the basis for the story is.
It's been watching me for the last month or so. It seems like every time I turn around, I see it.
But nobody believes me. Even my mother doesn't believe me. First, I saw it in the driveway. It's big, bright, red eyes. That's all I saw. I blinked, and it was gone. I've never experienced such abject terror before in my life. It attacked every corner of my mind, and carved its image directly onto every square centimetre of my brain. That was three weeks ago.
And then, three days later, I saw it again. Standing in my daughter's tree house. Staring at me. Even more horrifying than before. But this time, it did something. It looked like it moved towards me at an incomprehensible speed, but before it got to me, it disappeared. It had no facial features, other than it's eyes. Its horrifying, nightmarish eyes.
I asked my brother, who lives right up the road, about it. He looked at me like I was insane. He told me he'd get his company to install a security system on my house for no charge.
"Are you sure this covers every centimetre of my yard?" I inquired later that day.
"Yes," he assured, "Every centimetre."
"So if anything appears..."
"We'll see it."
I felt pretty confident. If anything else happened, we'd see it. And we'd catch it. At least, I hoped we would.
About two weeks ago, I was watching TV, but then the TV started quickly getting darker, and darker. I immediately felt nervous. And then it shut off. I looked around for the remote, and I saw it, sitting on the couch, right were I left it. That didn't make matters any better. Then I started to feel extremely odd. My vision started to blur. I started to feel very tired. My legs fell asleep. And then I saw it.
It was standing, or more accurately, floating, on the other side of my window. My vision started to blur even worse.
And then it was gone. In the blink of an eye. And just like that, that feeling was gone. I immediately called my brother, even though it was 2:30 in the morning. Or at least, I tried to. Right before I picked up the phone, I blacked out. I woke up the next morning, in my bed. My first thought felt like someone else's. Like it'd been implanted in my mind by an outside source.
"Tell No One."
From that point on, I see it almost every night. The urge to report it has completely disappeared from my mind. I don't need to. It told me I don't need to.
And It knows everything.
Part Two of the Bright Eyes Series