The One Who Follows

Have you ever had that feeling? The one where you think there’s someone watching you? It feels like something prickling your back, tickling it, but not pleasurably. Because I have. And it’s not fun.

I really shouldn’t be writing this. He might find out. Might come for me, like He has, the others. But I am. Because soon it won’t matter. But someone else should know the truth.

The secret.

I got that feeling first on the highway, in the car at night, when I was eight. I looked out the window to see what was causing this strange feeling, what had so easily spiked my interest. And I saw two eyes, two glistening jewels in the night sky, red as blood, pupil-less.