I could feel it's stare on the back of my neck. It had been watching me for so long, now. A few days? A week? Two? I was losing track of time. We were the only constant; the light outside would go and the darkness would come - only for the cycle to continue. People would come and go - but it was there. All the time.
I hated it. I couldn't stand the sight of the thing - it was abnormally tall; it's head nearly hit the lamppost that it'd stand under at night, looking up to my window. It didn't have any features; no eyes, no mouth, no hair, no eyebrows - no face. But it was impossible to look away. Everything about it was... wrong. It wouldn't move any of it's disproportionate limbs. It would just stare.
When the sun had risen today, I'd closed the curtains - casting my room into shadow, but most importantly I'd blocked it out. It hadn't worked, I could still feel it, like a weight on the back of my neck, or an itch on my back. And it felt closer.
I felt my bandaged thumb press against the white fabric on my opposing palm - as soon as there was a sound of a click, I shifted my knuckles to press against my other hand. My mom had made me wear these bandages after she'd seen me "mindlessly eating" my fingers. Of course, despite the professional wrap she had done, it hadn't stopped my teeth from gnawing against the material and breaking the skin below.
I didn't mean to - I'd just look down and they'd be stained red, sometimes.
My eyes were fixed on the wall in front of me - I sat cross legged, my back slumped and my head tilting upwards. The wall was usually smooth, however something was different. A snake-like bump had formed; looking similar to an air bubble or a slim water blister.
With a hesitance, I slowly reached out to poke the mass in the baby blue wall. It felt heavy - my index finger gently pressing against the abnormality, only to feel the swell ooze around and stretch it out around my touch. I wanted to retract from it, but my hand only shifted so my palm now firmly pressed against it. It looked like it was about to burst from the pressure - smaller bubbles starting to form around-
"Hey, is everything okay?" A soft voice called out, accompanied by the feeling of a gentle touch to my shoulder.
I naturally flinched away, retracting my hand from the wall as I looked behind me - with skittish, wide eyes.
Bronwyn looked down at me with worried, lilac eyes - her brown brow knitted together. She hesitantly retracted her hand, taking a small step back.
I let out a small sigh, feeling myself untense a little as I averted my gaze to the soft carpet below me - my covered fingers slowly picking at the fluffy tufts. "I'm fine, Winnie. It's nothing to worry about." I mumbled, feeling my eyebrows fall as I shuffled on my stop to face her.
She'd been dropping by before school to make me breakfast - to know I'd eaten. I think I hard her and mom talking about me - I didn't hear much, but I heard my parent mention my drop of appetite. Honestly, I'd started to use Bronwyn's appearances as indicators to a new day. I didn't leave my room much, anymore.
"I'm worried about you." She mumbled, though she spoke clearly - an obvious delicacy to her tone.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair, stopping when I reached a more knotted area. "Don't be, everything is fine." I replied - just as quietly, though my words sounded muffled.
"I know you're not fine." Bronwyn retorted, causing me to look up to her to see her giving me a small glare.
Bronwyn's eyes had narrowed slightly, making her dimples on her cheeks more prominent - and consequently her freckles too. Her bangs fell just over her forehead and sections of her wavy hair fell over her shoulders and behind her shoulders down her back. She wore a black, knee-length circle skirt with an Imagine Dragons shirt she'd bought at the concert the three of us had gone to - and Cody's grey, zip-up hoodie on top.
I gently pulled at my coral shirt - it was a peculiar shade, a mix of beige and orange. Maybe yellow, too. It only made the blood-stained, white cloth beneath me stand out more though. Especially againt my black cargo shorts.
I shrugged with a sigh, "It's nothing, Bronwyn." I repeated, before continuing in a mumble, "I've just been seeing things again."
When I told my mom about the tall thing in the suit, she'd started to cry - it also caused a fight between her and dad; mom wants to put me into therapy but dad's insisting that it's nothing to worry about - that it's just my imagination and I'm making it up to "cope" and "understand" the pain. Mom argued that a therapist would help me to cope and understand in a healthier way. They probably couldn't afford it, with Lyra on life support, though.
I just didn't want to make Bronwyn worry more than she already is.
Bronwyn's expression softened as she sighed. "Toby, maybe you should see someome about this." She suggested, her tone displaying her obvious concern.
I put my face in my hands, closing my eyes. "It's nothing, Winnie." I sighed. I hesitantly looked back up to her - frozen to see that thing towering behind her - it's head against the ceiling as it back arched, like it had contorted itself to fit into my room.
I shot up from my bed, my blanket falling to my lap as I gently gripped my mattress. As my breathing evened out, I hesitantly let go of the mattress with one of my hands - the now free limb combing through my hair. I let out a shaky sigh - the motion calming me. "I fucking hate that thing." I grumbled, slumping.
With reluctance, I slid off of the bed and began to drag myself over to the bathroom. I swung my door open, and immediately reached out for the light's chord - tugging on it until I heard the small click and the room flooded with a yellow tainted glow.
My bathroom was small - a shower in the corner with a woven laundry basket stuffed in the corner. The walls weren't tiled - but they had been smoothed and painted an off white. The shower was cheap - also white and a rusty-metal look. Opposing it was a countertop with a small, built in sink - cluttered with soap and utensils. Above it was a mirror, and opposite to the door was the toilet.
I turned the tap on, cupping my hands under the slightly jaded stream - splashing the liquid on my face, in hopes the water would do something; wake me up? Do some sort of human reset?
I looked up in the mirror - going to dry my face when I saw something stood in the shower - short, blonde - wearing a smear of green and grey; but also large patches of red.
Upon instinct, I grabbed my toothbrush holder, spinning it around and throwing it at the shower door - to no avail as the figure was gone. All I got was the sound of the plastic clanking as it hit the wall and floor.
I let out a sigh, "Fucking spirits."