Little Red

Another Perspective

Dealing with demons others will never see. Never saying anything so as to not be an inconvenience rather than out of fear of judgment.

Shadows appeared just out of sight, disappearing too quickly to see. That's normal, right?

It slowly got worse. Sights mentioned in passing were never fully acknowledged.

As a kid, it started with a man in a jacket, covered in shadows. He stood and watched. Always watching. 

He was there, squatting in the living room, in front of the couch when I woke up to use the restroom.

No fear, yet not at ease. 

He then was on the roof of the cafeteria at school.

 Then standing in the backyard. Another sight mentioned in passing was brushed off.

Next was the building. Or at least, that was the next thing that appeared to be false. 

A wrecked, abandoned-looking building sat at the edge of the freeway just past where asphalt met gravel; where gravel met grass. The grass sloped down into a hill, the space absent of trees, except for one that looked as worn down as the house. A street curved down the hill to the left of the house, disappearing behind the house. A chain link fence ran by the road, halfway down the hill, before it stopped.

That lasted months.

I never noticed something was wrong. 

Yet another thing that was mentioned in passing that was brushed off.

The image eventually disappeared with one last surprise, finally revealing the true look of the area.

A large... person? It stood in front of the building proud and tall, at least seven feet tall. It was a shadowy swirl of black and red with solid black horns protruding from its head.  It left hand was held out holding a thin, pale woman in its large hand. She laid, unmoving. She had long blond hair that nearly touched the ground below. She wore a pristine, white dress that went down to her ankles. The dress had sleeves with intricate patterns. It stared, making eye contact as the car passed slowly in the heavy traffic. Looking out the car window, making eye contact, no more comments were made. 

The sight, so ridiculous, so strange, could never be true. It was ignored. It was then it was decided it would always be ignored.

Next were the sounds.

Someone calling out by name, yet no one is in the house. Footsteps walking up to the bedroom door. Different, heavier footsteps walking to the bed. 

It was normal. It was common. Everyone has experienced such things before, right?

Next was the 'door' to the attic. 

It was more of a crawl space above the house.

One night, it was open. 

That was ignored. 

Everything was calm for a while, until fifteen.

Everything wasn't forgotten, only not acknowledged.

A man stood on the side of the road. His face was white, as if a skin-tight cloth was pulled over his face. He stood in the street, watching the car as it passed. The relatively short man was around five feet tall. He was clad in a black suit, with a white dress shirt under it and a red tie.

No eyes, yet watching.

Why?

Why?

This isn't normal, is it?