Unseen

Unseen

There’s something wrong about this room. It presses in on me, like the walls are closing in, squeezing the air out of my lungs. The silence—it’s too thick, too still. The kind of silence where you can almost hear your heartbeat in your ears, and every creak of the floor sounds louder than it should. The shadows in the corners stretch longer than they ought to. I try not to think about it.

But I can’t stop.

It’s not just the quiet that’s unsettling—it’s the feeling of being watched. Like there’s something in here with me, just waiting. Waiting for me to notice.

I sit up in bed. The floor creaks under me, but it’s too soft. Too deliberate. Almost like it’s expecting me to move. I glance around the room, heart pounding, but there’s nothing there. Just the darkness. But I feel it—close. Close enough to touch. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, like it’s just behind me. I tell myself it’s nothing, that I’m just imagining things. I’m fine. But it doesn’t go away.

Then I hear it. A laugh.

It’s soft at first, like a whisper on the wind, but then it comes again. Louder. More distinct, like it’s curling around me. I freeze, barely breathing. Maybe it’s nothing, just a trick of my mind. It’s nothing... it’s nothing...

The laugh grows, twisting through the room, seeping into my thoughts. My breath hitches.

Don’t look. Just don’t look.

I don’t want to. I know if I look, I’ll see something—or worse, I won’t see anything at all. Just the empty corners where the shadows gather. But the laugh isn’t going away.

The air grows colder. The walls seem to close in. I can’t breathe. The laugh becomes louder now, louder than the beating of my heart, and that voice. It slides into my thoughts, smooth like oil.

“You’re mine.”

It’s not my voice. It’s softer, smoother, like it knows me, like it’s been with me forever. I shudder, but I don’t move. I can’t. What is it? I try to swallow, but my throat is dry. I try to shake it off, but the feeling is too deep. It’s inside me, crawling under my skin. It’s not a thought; it’s a presence.

"You don’t have to fight anymore."

What? No. I stiffen. That’s not what I—Shut up, shut up. I try to shake it out, but it’s there. I feel it in my chest, my ribs tightening. I don’t need help, not from you.

My body—no, I won’t think about it. I feel like I'm drowning, but there’s this... this weight that keeps me anchored to the bed. The voice isn’t just in my head anymore. It’s all around me, filling the room, wrapping itself around my chest, pulling at my insides.

I can’t move. Can’t... move...

The shadows—they’re not just shadows anymore. They’re alive. They’re reaching out, crawling up the walls, stretching over the floor like vines, pulling me down.

“I’m with you.”

No, no, no. I feel it—warm, smooth. It feels like... safety. Like it’s always been there. Like I’ve always been waiting for it. I try to scream. Nothing. Not a sound. I try to fight. I can’t move!

I hear it now. A laugh. It’s so soft, so close. A whisper. A promise. It curls around me. Please, stop. Stop laughing.

“Let go.”

I want to scream, but the voice—it’s me. It is me. I don’t want to give in, but I feel it, deep inside my chest, a pressure, a suffocation. The shadows—they’re closing in. My hands don’t feel like my own. They’re heavy. No. Wait. It’s the room, it’s pushing. No, it’s—it’s me, isn’t it?

“You’re not alone.”

Alone? Alone? I’m not alone. I’m... am I? The room spins. The darkness presses in so tight I can’t even breathe anymore. Why can’t I think?

And then—something. A moment of clarity. I hear my own voice. Soft, panicked, almost pleading. “Please... no.”

Please... no.

It’s mine. But it’s not. I feel like I’m somewhere else, someone else.

And then the laughter comes again.