I’ve been on the edge of my seat for weeks. I can’t say what it is. There’s just… something. One day the hairs just stood up on the back of my neck and a chill ran through my whole body. I looked around trying to identify the source of this… unsettlement. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but it gnawed at the back of my mind all day. That feeling of being watched, stalked. I couldn’t shake it.
Ever since that first time, it’s been happening more and more often; suddenly from out of nowhere my guts clench, my muscles tense with the instinctual need to make myself small and invisible passed down from my ancestors, I can /feel/ your eyes on me, preying on me. I’ve been so alarmed on on alert but everything seems so small. A cup out of place. My spice rack misordered. The hand towels in my bathroom offset instead of perfectly flush. Such small things it could just be me. But it isn’t me. It isn’t me.