Lurking in the Depths of You

“What brings you in to see us today, Mr. Elliot Blackwood?” sternly asks the detective. I couldn’t help but slightly scrunch up my nose at the smell of the detective’s breath, reeking of cigarettes and coffee, making me forget why I was here for a split second.

It wasn’t long until the fear-induced anxiety continued to rush through me as I stutter to string my words together. “Som… som… someone is following me, sir. I can’t help but feel someone is watching me everywhere I go.”

Only looking slightly concerned and almost as if he didn’t believe me, the detective responds with curiosity as he passes me a glass of water. “Mr. Blackwood, can you talk us through what has happened?”

I tap my fingers anxiously on the glass of water, my leg pulsing as I try to think of ways to explain how I know that someone is following me. I deeply inhale and slowly exhale in hopes it calms my voice.

“Well, s… sir, I constantly get this eerie sense that someone is watching me. There is always this lurking presence nearby that I feel no matter where I am. Occasionally, I hear voices that make my stomach turn into knots: ‘Listen to me, you can’t escape me, I will catch you, you can’t hide, let me in,’ and much more.

One night, I got up to go to the bathroom and saw a shadow in the mirror; it terrified me! When I returned to bed, I looked at the time, hoping it was near morning because I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. I looked to my left at the digital clock on the bedside table to see 3:00 a.m. I have never believed in ghosts or spirits, detective, but this encounter made me question my beliefs. My body was riddled with fear and the voices seemed louder at this time too.

At first, I thought I was imagining these things but then I noticed people would look at me strangely and talk to me oddly. I wondered if maybe they could see what was looming over me and maybe they get the same eerie feeling that I do.”

“Mr. Blackwood, these encounters must be frightening and concerning for you. Unfortunately, without any evidence of someone following you, we are unable to help,” states the detective dismissively. “If you find any evidence or are in any immediate danger in the future, then we may be able to help,” he further adds.

“In any immediate danger… pffft… we may be able to help,” I mockingly mumble under my breath as I walk outside the old brick police station, scanning my surroundings. It was near evening, with little sunlight left in the sky and a slight chill in the air. I was scared and on edge with the eerie feeling still lingering as I wondered what happens now.

I take the keys out of my pocket and unlock my 1995 Toyota Camry. As I insert the key into the door handle to unlock it, I notice a dark shadow behind me in the reflection of my car window. “AHHHHHHH!” I screamed, closing my eyes, thinking to myself, “Is this it?”

I open my eyes and notice that no one is around other than myself, squatting on the ground with my hands resting on my head, frightened by what just happened. More on edge and scared than before, I reluctantly got into my car and locked the doors. I convinced myself that if someone was trying to harm me, they would have done it in that moment.

Darkness surrounds me as I drive home on the road that passes only farmland; there are no streetlights or shops in sight for at least 25 miles. I turn the radio up, trying to drown out any paranoid thoughts.

All of a sudden, bright lights reflect in my rearview mirror, partially blinding me. I hear a horn that won’t stop beeping and see a car swerving side to side. Fear and panic start to set in as I speed up to try to escape their vision. As I look back to the front, I see more bright lights coming directly towards me… CRASHHHHH

“Sir, you have been in a serious accident,” says a young lady’s voice. My vision is blurry and my mind can’t comprehend what is happening. One minute I see red and blue lights and then the next minute, I see bright white lights and blue gowns. “Sir, you are at the hospital. Stay with us, sir!” the young lady’s voice says shakily. I don’t remember what was said after this; all I can see is my body lying on an operating table. There are so many doctors and nurses surrounding my body. Wait a minute, am I dead?

“Elliot,” whispers a soft voice. “Elliot, it’s not your time,” the same voice whispers. Confused but strangely calm, I wondered what this voice meant by “it’s not my time.” At this point, I didn’t care if it was my time. Why would I, when I live in a constant state of fear and hear voices?

Still hovering over my physical body on the operating table, I hear a voice outside the operating room. “I was only trying to get his attention,” a deep male voice says distressingly. This voice sounds familiar, I thought to myself. “It’s an unfortunate turn of events and you had good intentions,” reassured another male voice.

I don’t understand how the person had good intentions; as I recall, they wanted to run me off the road.

“I heard a scream outside moments after Mr. Blackwood left the station after his concerns about being followed. When I went outside to see if everything was okay, he had taken off. I was worried someone may have taken him, which is why I followed him in my car. My car doesn’t have sirens, so I thought if I beeped the horn and swerved slightly to grab his attention, he would pull over,” the distressed male explains.

I know this voice! This is the voice of the detective I spoke with earlier who couldn’t help me and smelt like cigarettes and coffee. “Mrs. Blackwood, we are so sorry you and your family are going through this right now. Are you able to tell us a little about Mr. Blackwood?” hesitantly asked the detective.

“My sweet mumma,” I thought, as I watch her uncontrollably cry, her eyes turned black from her mascara and her hair half loose in a clip. I can see my dad trying to keep himself together as he holds my mum tightly. “El.. Eli… I’m sorry, detective,” she says sniffly as she tries to respond. “Elliot is very kind and generous. We are so fortunate to have Elliot as a son; he brings so much joy and happiness into our lives,” Mum proudly responded, still wiping away the tears which continue to stream down her face.

The soft whisper returns, “Elliot, I need you to pay attention to my voice now.” Unsure of who the voice belongs to or where the voice is coming from, I obey. “You must return to your physical body now, Elliot.”

“Like I mentioned earlier, why would I want to go back to my physical body that is riddled with fear and hears unwanted voices? I don’t want to be haunted or tormented anymore. Here, I seem to just simply be. I don’t feel any fear or worries, doubt or sadness, anger or shame; any emotion really. I feel at peace, almost euphoric.”

All of a sudden I’m in a white room with nothing else in sight. That is until a big cloud-like screen appears, containing multiple smaller screens showing moments of my life. It was almost like I was playing a video game of Sims, showing which level my character was on and each lesson my character learned through each level.

It slowly draws my attention to my most recent life events. I rewatch the moments I experienced hearing voices, seeing shadows, thinking people are looking at me strangely or talking to me oddly. It feels different reliving these moments. Is it because I don’t feel the emotions associated with them?

All of a sudden, I experience an epiphany. These moments don’t feel different because of emotions. They feel different because of how I view them; a revelation of perception.

The soft whisper emphasised, “The voices you hear are your internal dialogue on a negative loop feeding you fears and worries, making you doubt yourself and deplete any ounce of confidence you have. The feeling you feel when your stomach turns to knots is the negative thought loop manifesting as anxiety in your body. The eerie feeling of someone watching you is your shadow side wanting to be seen but you avoid it. The thought of people looking at you strangely or talking to you oddly is a reflection of how you feel about yourself; your lack of self-worth. You see, Elliot, the shadow you see is a projection of your own inner thoughts, fears and perception of self. Your shadow will continue to haunt you until you learn to understand it, teach it and work with it.”

“Elliot… Elliot, it’s Mumma, darling,” I hear as a hand squeezes into mine, slowly blinking my eyes, trying to see through the brightness and blurriness. “We are so happy you are okay!” Dad happily says with teary eyes.

It looks like I made it back to my physical body after all. This time, with a different perspective.