In my head

They are watching

I feel their eyes crawl over me as I make my way down the street, scattering the leaves that were laid to rest on the gravel road. I tossed a look over my shoulder. The empty street blinked back at me, the wind's taunts swirling around me. 

They are watching me. 

I forced my feet to hurry as I hurried along the sidewalk like a lost rodent. I won’t let them get to me. I won’t allow them to take and control every aspect of my life. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t! I shook my head as if I could shake out the thoughts of my paranoia. Shadows covered me like a thick blanket. For once, I embraced their cool, dark mystery. Their unknown plans and hidden lives, it calmed me. Soothed my inner waves of anger and fear. 

We are watching.

“Stop,” I hissed under my breath. “You’ll drive yourself crazy.” I echoed the words of my psychologist, who was already convinced I was crazy. The voices that whisper in my ear, the shadows that follow, the footsteps that echo. All in my head. I made them up. 

Not real, not real. 

Crazy, crazy, crazy. That's what I am. 

I threw another look over my shoulder, startled when I actually saw someone. I looked back ahead of me, blinked, then looked again. There it still was. The figure avoided the pool of light that flowed out from a streetlight. The head didn’t move. It was set on me, walking faster, the pounding of his feet getting louder and faster. 

Nonononono.

Not now, not today! I was so close. No!

I jogged, kicking my feet faster and faster as the person behind me sped up as well.

 Run, run, run. 

Like a hamster on a wheel. 

Run, run, run, 

Never get anywhere. Stuck on the same track, same road, same cycle. Never broken. I suffer through the cycle of Sin and deliverance. Except mine goes past 7 times. It’s every day. I do good for a little while. I’m not being followed and I don’t hear dark whispers in the night. Then I fall. Shadows cascade around me and invisible gazes consume me. But there's nothing to guide me back. I have to crawl myself out of the dark abyss I created myself. No rope, no ladder, no nothing. Just my nails and hands. I swear my nails get black and chipped from the dirt. But no one believes me. No one believes that there is always a person following me. Watching me. 

Pound pound pound. 

Scuff scuff scuff

RUN RUN RUN!

Too late

A hand clamps around my mouth and my waist. I scream into the heard leather of a glove and kick out and around. No use. I’m gone. I’m dead. No one will look for me. 

“If you scream, no one will listen,” the voice whispered darkly in my ear. I stopped struggling then because he was right. Even if I screamed until my throat went raw, screamed my heart and soul out, no one would hear me. Not because they couldn’t, but because they didn’t want to. Ignorance is bliss when everyone around you is seemingly normal. Happy. Calm. Normal. Nevermind someone is sitting here, losing their mind and heart with every toxic breath they breathe. 

“There, that’s a good girl,” the voice purred, deep and throaty. He stroked my hair lightly, walking my backwards, hands still clutching my body tightly, but not deathly. “I can tell that you and I will have some fun together.” He stopped suddenly. 

“I am going to let go of your mouth and tie a ribbon over your eyes. Promise you won’t run?” I nodded. He reluctantly let go, I stood rigid as a board. I soon felt smooth, silky material slip over my eyes. He tied it tightly to where it wouldn’t fall off, put loose to where it didn't hurt. He took my hands and tied them as well. Then he led me around what I assumed was his car. He covered my head with his hand and helped me duck into the car. He slammed the door shut, sliding into the driver's seat. I felt his gaze crawl over me, taking in my rumpled shirt and wrinkled pants. My head screamed at me. 

Not Safe. Not Safe. Not Safe.

Fight, fight, fight.

For once, I ignored them. I couldn’t do anything. The worst this man could do was kill me. And honestly, that might not be so bad. It would rid me of the voices, the shadows, the scary world. This bad, bad place. Full of people who don’t understand. They never understand. They won’t understand. Why would they? I’m crazy, paranoid, weak, vulnerable. I didn’t fit in. 

Fight, fight, fight.

The voices echoed like a chant in the back of my mind.

“I can’t,” I whispered, soft and low so he didn't hear me. “I can’t fight.” God, I felt so hopeless and vulnerable. Sitting there, shivering and whimpering like a kicked puppy. No one believes me. I was the crazy lady. I didn’t know what was real and what was fake. Never went out. Now you know. Now you know why I am so paranoid. 

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

Escape escape escape

Fight fight fight

STOP 

Let it go. Please. I can’t do it. I can’t. It’s too much. You have been the damned part of me, my soul, my life. But you have to leave. You are my secret sin. My punishment for being so weak. I know how weak I am. So leave me alone. Leave me be. Let me deal with life on my own. 

Fight fight fight

“I AM FIGHTING, DAMMIT!” I screamed. I clamped my mouth shut, wincing, waiting for a hit. 

“Leslie? You don’t need to fight, honey. Open your eyes.” A soft, female voice said. I peeled my eyes open. My therapist smiled gently back at me. I looked around. I was in a bed, white hospital sheets wound throughout my legs. “You beat them, Leslie. You're okay now. They are gone.”

“I-what?” I asked, dazed and confused. 

“The voices you were hearing? They should be gone. .” She assured me, smiling. There was something slightly sinister about her smile, and I didn’t like it. I nodded my head slightly. My head echoed back. 

She has to go. 

Not safe, not safe, not safe. 

Danger Danger!

Run