When I was about 15, I started feeling paranoid. Feeling like I'm being watched, hearing some footsteps, sense of dread, the works. I mostly brushed it off until I started seeing things in my peripheral vision. Just quick flashes of things at first. Within a year, it got worse. Sometimes just a pair of eyes and a smile from across the room, others a full shadow of a person either walking past me or directly to me. A few times, I could see it lunge at me. It became frightening to be alone. My heart would immediately race at the sight of the bright white teeth. They would almost glow in the darkness. Stretched out over a mostly unrecognizable face. I couldn't even turn the lights off anymore at night. If I was going to see it, I would hear some footsteps. Then there it would be, lurking somewhere in the background.
The day I decided I needed help with this was the worst of it. I was up very late watching a movie. My family had long since gone to bed and I knew my mom would be upset if I left the light on. I took a deep breath and moved to turn the final light off. The second I touched the switch, footsteps. Running. Fast. I didn't react in time and still idlily flipped the switch. There it was. Lunging at me with wide arms. I flipped the light on and ran away. Nothing followed. My gasping breaths the only sound in the house. The next morning, I talked with my parents. I got mental help and it somewhat faded away. The hallucinations were less frequent.
I grew up, moved out, got married, moved again. Everything in my life changed, except the hallucinations stayed. No matter where I went, I couldn't shake them and it began to mess with me harder again. My husband began working third shift at his job. So being alone at night was a major challenge. I started seeing things more. The shadowy man began to take on more of a figure and shape as well. I could make out more details of his face. Eyes bloodshot and wide, almost like those hyper realistic eyes you would see in spooky cartoons. A smile, unnaturally large for his face. It almost seemed to go ear to ear. The teeth were still white as could be, a strange contrast from the ratty clothes and scraggly beard he had. I went back to therapy. Back on meds. But it continued to get worse. Eventually, I would start seeing him even when the lights were on. He would just stand somewhere kinda hidden. Waiting for the lights to go out. I never shut them off anymore.
Every day for the last 10 years, I thought this was all hallucination. That was, until I saw the man crawl out the attic about an hour ago. He must have thought I was in another room or something. I never thought he could be real. But here he was, just casually coming down the ladder as he had a million times. I've tried texting my husband. He isn't answering. I don't know what to do. He would probably hear if I tried to call the police. It might be too late anyways. As I'm typing, I heard my closet door close. The heavy footsteps down the hall. I can see him, crawling on the floor, the smile on his face looking painful. He's coming towards me. Send help.
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