They stare, all day, every day. Wherever you are, the little burdens follow you. Your brain is engineered to ignore them. I'm terribly sorry for giving you knowledge of them, but you must know before you make the same mistake as I did. It's looking at me right now, as I write this its dead yet curious stare looks into my very soul. Let me explain.

I call them "the Gawkers". They are childlike figures, but very deformed. Thin, scrawny creatures that are pale, with wide, demonic, yet very human eyes. They stare at have been there since you first left the womb. From the day you took your first step, to the first day of school, and even till this day, they stare. Gawkers are fascinated by humans, that's why they eyeball you. They hide behind the smallest of things, look around the room and you've probably made eye contact with one. They are always there.

I saw mine by accident of course. One day, after work, I decided to sit back and enjoy some reading time. I sat down on my chair in my bedroom, and that's when I heard it. Footsteps, like those of a child. I glanced around the room.


Again, footsteps, though this time I caught something in the corner of my eye and did what any rational human being would do. I looked for what I spotted. It was there, behind the television, the small, frail humanoid of a creature, staring at me. I freaked out, as any human would do when spotting such a foul thing, and threw my book at it. In what seemed like seconds, it turned to a blur, and got closer. I went to bed that night, being watched and petrified in the knowledge that I was not alone.

For weeks I spotted it through my house, in the mirror while in the car, at work. It's only then that I realised it was getting closer every day. It was at the end of the month that it finally made physical contact. It grabbed me and tugged on my pants. Its grip only felt like a breeze. You see, Gawkers are as light as a feather.

It stares at me now, over my shoulder, inches away from my face, almost impossible to avoid eye contact. I can see its every detail. I go to sleep, only to open my eyes to the thing. I can feel its breathing, yet it does not make a sound. It feels as though the Gawker is telling me something with those...eyes. Driving me insane, it knows WHO I am. I feel like my insanity only gets stronger the longer it burdens me. It has hair like a child, a short bowl cut...I wonder how long it will stay with me...

So hear my plea, if you ever hear or see something abnormal, simply ignore it. It's not doing any harm, and I doubt that it ever will. It's only staring after all. It likes you, it enjoys watching you do human things. Just don't get aggressive, and most importantly, do not make eye contact.