I’ve had an odd day, I mean really odd. You know that feeling, when without having heard or seen a person, you know someone is standing very close to you; you can just sense their presence. It’s an intolerable feeling that makes you whirl around desperate to relieve the abhorrent feeling of uncertainly, to know who is there. That is how I have felt all day like there is someone horrible haunting my right shoulder, their head hovering just behind my right ear. It is an insufferable feeling; someone is almost breathing down my neck and ruffling my hair, but when I turn around there is nothing just indecipherable air.
This morning, lying contentedly in bed, I floated between dreams and consciousness; I was mundanely playing with the idea of getting up. The edge of my bed sank as someone gently sat on the mattress, for a moment I assumed my Mother had come in to my room to talk to me. She remained silent and I didn’t move, hoping to achieve a few more winks of the doze I was enjoying. The burden slowly rose from my bed and I decided I was dreaming and so could remained lying on my front with my head buried in my pillow a little longer. The weight then returned and this time oppressively clung and clung to the air around me. Something/someone lent over me from the left side of my bed, over my body to hang its head between mine and the wall. I immediately lurched up bewildered by anyone doing this to me; I struggled up frantically the atmosphere around me pushing down. There was no one there, I was met with a nonexistent presence, I was alone in my room lit by pale morning light and my own heavy breathing.
I spent the rest of the day being followed. My every move watched intently, every action and stride manically observed and met invisibly and silently. At work, several times I spun around, certain that if I moved fast enough I would see…. something. I could not alleviate the harsh impression that there was something haunting my day. Every sense seems to betray me because I felt there was something lingering I just couldn’t see or hear or touch. It’s just there, only it exists in the corner of my eye when it thinks I’m not looking and it thinks is safe.
I am completely rattled, disturbed by this absent company. I am preoccupied by the troubling sense of an angel, ghost, imagined spectre has taken to squandering time in my presence, just beyond appearance. It is finding a foul amusement agitating my nerves and unsettling me in the twilight of my cold room. I can feel it just behind me, toying with the wind chime in my window, with long blacken nails, on a twisted mottled hand. It is tinkling leisurely with the slender metal, waiting and watching for something, I just don’t know what. I think it wants to teach me that you are never too old to be frightened by nothing.