Unseen Eyes

It’s said that people are able to sense when they are being watched, but how many can say they felt it constantly; that every move they made was monitored, every choice that came across them was looked upon by unseen eyes? Most cannot say they have while others who have refuse to speak of it. Terror filling their eyes as the memories they have tried so hard to forget, to push to their back of their mind resurface like a tidal wave crashing down on them heavily.

To many they don’t see stalking as a real threat if the other party doesn’t make an attempt to hurt. To them there is nothing wrong with admiring someone from afar as long as it doesn’t grow out of control. But ask anyone who has experienced the terror that coursed through their veins when their phone rings and all that is there to greet them is a heavy breathing. The panic that seizes them when there is a knocking at the door in the late hours of the night with no one standing there. The fear that floods them when they are alone at night and the piercing gaze is on them, calculating their every move as if planning the perfect time to make a move of their own. To them, the threat is as real as if they were under an attack. To them, no place is safe, clean of the ever watchful eyes.

You never believe that it will happen to you. Even after the time comes when the thought crosses your mind you are still unable to wrap your mind around it, you don’t want too. You feel vulnerable, exposed in a way that unnerves you to your core. Constantly looking over your shoulder you begin to feel the panic creep up inside you, the unsettling feeling that when alone you are unsafe even in what you once considered the safest of places. For you, nothing will ever be the same. The idea of all of it is about as real as a bed time story. But when things begin happening, things you can longer deny, the bed time story slowly turns into a nightmare that is no longer in your control, that you can never awaken from.

I refused to see what was happening around me, keeping the fact that being stalked was just that, a story that my mind had conjured up. I could never believe that someone I trusted could do such things. It all made sense, even in my confusion but I still refused to believe. He was my friend, someone I had trusted and he tried to protect me when I started to become scared. I could never believe it was him, not until I saw him in the car racing at me with a speed that should have killed me. Even then, I was still unable to believe.

I am one of them. One of the watched, the followed, the stalked.