Paranoia

We all have felt like we were being watched. Maybe it was while you were walking down a darkened hallway. Perhaps it was during a trip to the bathroom as you stared at the closed shower curtain ahead of you. You felt that sensation. A sensation that gnaws at you and secretes paranoia. But I don't believe it's paranoia. No, it's much worse than that.

See, I have a theory. A theory most would immediately rule a conspiracy. I believe those sensations are never without a cause. You know the feeling you get while walking down a poorly lit alleyway on a Friday night after parting ways with your entourage? That feeling... it's our radar. Our radar telling us we are in danger. From what? It depends. It could be a mugger. Sure. A rapist. Maybe. A serial killer. Perhaps. But sometimes it's something much more horrifying.

Some say the greatest evil is unexplained. It lurks in the darkness, feeding on your paranoia as you look around the room for an explanation. Most of the time, there is an explanation. They make it that way. They'll easily corrupt the air conditioner or trigger a flicker of the lights to ease your mind. They want you to believe they aren't there.

The moment you believe in them, they take you out before you can spread the word. Before you can ruin their survival. They need your paranoia. They tear into it, licking their fingers once they've devoured it.

These past few days, I've been scared of my own shadow. Even when my ponytail brushes against my bare back, I flinch in fear of one of those things being behind me. When the sun lays against the horizon, I cry. There is no feeling more ominous than knowing the shadows you cannot control could become the gateway for... Them.

I wanted to write this to warn you. I know they're after me. I can feel it in my gut. Your instinct is never wrong. I sleep with all of my lights on but they have been toying with me for days now. The blueish rings under my eyes confirm I need to sleep. I. Need. Sleep. But every time I close my eyes, I feel them. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up, and chills move down my arm in unison.

Right now, I'm fighting the urge to turn around. If I do, I know what's going to happen. They don't like when you see them. From my peripheral vision, I see the silhouette of one now. They're dark, gnarled creatures. Taller than any human being I've ever seen. It's scratching at the walls, viciously. It wants me to look at it.

Just when I ready myself to turn in the direction of the creature, a loud knock captures my attention. I know it's toying with me. It'll wait for me to walk towards the door, kick on my air conditioner which creates a loud thumping sound, and it'll be standing right where my eyes dart in inquisition of the frightening sound it had created. Though I wanted nothing to do with its malevolent plans, I chose to do exactly what it wanted me to do. I walked down the darkened hall, grabbing the bat I placed at the doorway of my bathroom before turning the corner.

Once I made it into the living area in which my front door was located, I noticed the swaying door before me. Instinctively, my body began to quiver as I contemplated it standing behind me, smiling at my foolish actions.

There was something behind me.

I could feel it. Lurking in the darkness. Waiting for me to turn around.

So, with one simple pivot, I mustered up every ounce of power, connecting the bat with a hard-enough surface to crack the baseball bat in half. I laughed, hysterically. Yelling out obscenities as all of my fear melted away.

"What did you do?!" I heard from behind me.

I turned to see my brother standing in the doorway, holding what appeared to be grocery bags. His eyes widened with shock and fear. Due to his reaction, I flicked on the lights. Sheer shock apprehended my once joyous demeanor. It was my mom laying there, her head caved in from the blow.

She shouldn't have been here. They must've known.

 File:"Paranoia" Creepypasta-0

*Written by GreyOwl

Content is available under CC BY-SA*