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The Thing Gets Closer Every Day

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She gets a little bit closer to me every day.

The first time I noticed her I was walking along the beach by myself. The shoreline was deserted with the exception of me and her. I could see her meandering behind about a half-mile or so, her black dress and messy black hair blowing in the wind. I thought nothing of it at the time and carried on living my life not knowing what was inching its way towards me with each passing moment.

I didn’t notice her again for months. The next time I saw her was in the Walmart parking lot. It was late, around 11 o’clock, and I walked out of the store into the empty, oversized parking lot, bag of groceries in hand. There weren’t too many cars left in the parking lot, and the ones that were there were all lined up in the spots closest to the store's entrance. She stood by herself near the back of the parking lot, under one of the light poles, probably around 150-200 yards from me. Still too far to make out the face of this girl, but something about the black dress and black hair gave me a sense of déjà vu. I don’t think I made the connection with the girl on the beach at that moment, but it was eerie nonetheless.

I started noticing her more and more.

Every time I had to park in a large parking lot, like Walmart’s or a movie theater, I could find her peeking at me from over the tops or parked cars or standing under a tree near the parking lots exit. The same black dress and messy black hair.

Eventually I started seeing her on my street. I’d peak out of my windows at night and see her partially obscured by the shadows behind my neighbor’s house or I would see her in the tree line of my own backyard.

I called the police on her once. I told them someone was hiding in the woods behind my house and I wanted them to come check it out. I watched the police search the area while she stood in place, motionless, staring straight at me. The police walked circles around her, I could have sworn they even brushed up against her a few times, but the two officers told me they saw nothing. They didn’t even find any footprints.

It was all in my head then, right?

I tried to put it out of my mind, but she kept getting closer and closer. I’d be eating at a restaurant with friends only to see her standing at a bus stop across the street. I take my dog for a walk and I’d see her looking at me through the windows of my neighbors’ houses as I walked past.

Closer and closer.

When she was only about 40-50 feet away I could make out her facial expression. A small bit of mascara ran down her cheek, but she was wearing a fresh smile. I couldn’t comprehend it. Something about it made me think it was a happy, almost gleeful face. Maybe the tears were tears of joy?

Sometimes I think it was the face of someone who had lost a loved one, but was remembering the good times they had together.

When I was in a bad moon, I interpreted it as the face of a complete mental break.

For 3 nights she was pressed up against windows of my house. Watching me as I cooked, cleaned and watched TV. I couldn’t sleep. I turned off the lights and the streetlights would cast her shadow across my home in larger-than-life proportions.

I tried to speak with her. I asked questions. I made demands. I begged and pleaded to tears, but she wouldn’t answer. She never made a sound. She never moved. She never blinked.

I took time off work. I wasn’t sleeping or eating. I spent all the time I had pacing my living room, screaming at the girl in my window, or crying thinking about how I had completely lost it, how everything I had worked so hard to build in this life had just come to a screeching halt due to a few bad neurons or chemical imbalances.

As much as I tried to convince myself it really was all in my head, there was a feeling I couldn’t shake. It all just felt so real. I mean, of course it did, my brain would be telling me it’s real just as any crazy person with hallucinations believe their visions to be real, but there was something about this girl, I just can’t explain. Like, I had known she would be showing up and I should have had her arrival marked on my calendar or something. I can’t explain it.

I had to get some air, so I grabbed my dog and took her out for a walk. It was the longest walk of my dog’s life. We walked for hours and ventured miles from our home, but we never managed to escape the woman who’d been watching us. She peeked at us from behind our neighbors’ fences, watched us from behind the trees of the local parks, I even saw her staring at us from the backseat of a few cars that drove by us, but we kept walking. Out here I felt less restricted, like I had options if I needed to run. Plus, there is something so violating about your own home, your one sanctuary, being turned into a fucking terrarium. I dreaded returning.

But eventually we had to go home. The ‘walk’ we had taken was turning quickly into animal abuse. My dog needed water and to rest her legs. Whatever I had gotten into it was my fault and not hers.

When I got back to my house my plan was to just ignore the creepy girl with her face pressed against my back window. I was exhausted and hadn’t slept in days. I just wanted to have a glass of water, shower and go to bed.

I accomplished the first two steps easily, but I stumbled on the third. I couldn’t resist a peek. I had to have another look at this girl, its not something you can ignore. If you were swimming in the ocean and someone yelled, “Shark!” would you not look for the shark?

I peered around the corner of the hallway and looked out the big back window where she held sentry the past few nights. She was gone. When you’re swimming in the ocean and someone yells "shark", its so much scarier when you can’t see it.

My mouth instantly went dry. I flipped on the floodlights that illuminated my backyard. Nothing. I ran through my darkened house to the front windows and looked out. Nothing.

My mind was screaming. Up to this point, I had never been more terrified in my entire life. Where was she? The worst part was I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched. I sat on the couch and held my head in my hands. No chance I was going to bed now. I was going to make some coffee and think. I stood up, walked to the kitchen and flipped the lights filling the once dark room with light and in my periphery, I saw feet.

There she was. Standing in the corner of living room peeking out at me from behind the drapes, just feet from where I was sitting on the couch. My stomach turned. She was in my house. This was a violation. This scared me. This offended me. This made me feel vulnerable and disgusting. I puked all over my kitchen floor never daring to break eye contact with the girl in my living room.

I made my coffee and sat at the kitchen table with a knife in my hand. No idea what good the knife would do against whatever this girl was, but without it I felt completely naked. We stared at each other for hours. I threw things at her, but they all just seemed to pass through her.

I had to do something. What I was I going to do, stare at this thing until I inevitably died from lack of sleep. I made a decision. I ran to the garage and jumped in the car. I’d at least get this thing out of my home. I opened the garage door and started the car, but as I turned around to back out of the driveway, I found her sitting directly behind me in the backseat. That was too much for me. I was absolutely revolted by the idea of being that close to it. I got out of the car, and I started running.

I ran for miles, each time I looked back I could see her keeping pace behind me, never gaining ground or falling behind, but always close. Very close.

Eventually, I got to my destination. The police station. At the very least they could put in a cell with 24-hour security.

That went about as well as I hoped it would. If the police are good for anything, it's putting mentally ill people in cells.

I was thrown into a solitary cell. About 8 feet by 8 feet. A small bedroll, a toilet and a sink. I don’t even remember what the charges were, I was just so happy to be somewhere with other people. To have witnesses for whatever was going to happen to me.

Because I didn’t lose her. Even sitting in my jail cell, she was still there, pressing her face on the glass window of my cell door, but I was too tired to care. At least she wasn’t in there with me at the moment.

I don’t know how long I slept for, but when I woke up she was kneeling down next to me with the same pained smiled on her face. Before I could even scream, she reached her arm out and touched my left shoulder, which instantly exploded in a sharp pain that radiated down my arm and across my chest. I started screaming. My breath grew short and my vision started to narrow. My heart felt like it was being gripped and squeezed by a phantom hand. I tried to stand up but fell over onto my belly, I yelled for help but my vision still closed in around me.

Then I woke up in a hospital.

I had suffered a heart attack. Luckily for me, there were paramedics in the building to save me.

All of this happened about 6 months ago.

I started seeing her again about 6 weeks ago. She's moving more quickly this time. Within a few short weeks I could see her face. She looks angry now, almost like she’s angry with me specifically. She’s also holding something, but I can’t tell what it is, she keeps it hidden behind her back.

I’m writing on my laptop in bed and she’s standing in my bedroom doorway glaring at me with the same grimace she’s had for a few weeks now. In a few minutes I’m going to take a sleeping pill and go to bed. I expect she’ll be standing at my bedside if or when I do wake up. Then I guess I’ll finally figure out what she’s hiding behind her back. I’m not scared, I’m just ready to get this shit over with.

I do feel guilty about leaving my dog behind I tried to give her a good life. I’ve already left a message for my sister to come get her at noon tomorrow. She has a key and I hope I’m there to greet her, but only time will tell. 

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