Behind You

Do you ever get the sense that someone is watching you? It is a pretty common feeling, and most people experience it at some point in their life. Chances are it is just a minor form of paranoia. Sometimes it is not. Sometimes… someone is watching. Or ‘they’ might be the better term. ‘They’ are following.

Behind You is June’s flash fiction that brings readers into a psychological horror of paranoia. Enjoy the story in written word, audio, artwork and soundscape.

Behind You









Paranoia

I used to enjoy life. Outside has so many wonders to see.
The world is much larger than most people give it credit for. Sure, the
Internet has drastically made things smaller by connecting people around the
globe. The Earth itself, however, is astronomical in size. Anyways, exploring
outside is something all of us do as a kid. I know I did. Not so much now. My
mom and dad wouldn’t let me go too far. They always said the streets were
dangerous. I didn’t understand why. It looked like a pretty safe neighbourhood
from what I saw inside of my home. Perhaps I wasn’t visible from the window,
being a small child, peeking out into the dangers.

Now, I understand why my mom would get mad at me if I stared
outside for too long. Or if I wandered too far away from them without
supervision. Mom said there were ugly people in the world. She said there were
horrors out there. I believe her now. There’s a certain level of bliss that you
have when being a kid. The innocence of a child overlooks all of the terrible things
that are in the shadows, in the cracks, or those that are peeking around the
corner. What was that cliché again? Oh yes, the devil is in the details.

Over the years, mom and dad were growing tired. Maybe they let
their guard down, or perhaps they decided that there is no point in fighting
the inevitable. The impending doom. They are always watching. You might
not know exactly where ‘they’ are, but I guarantee they aren’t far behind. You
know that feeling of someone watching you? It’s them. Whether you’re home
alone, or on the sidewalk, or the grocery store, it doesn’t matter – they are
there. They always are. It’s the reason for that tingling feeling on the back.
Your hearing amplifies. It picks up the most subtle of details. Then, when you
turn to look, you see nothing. I’ve dubbed them the Lightless Ones. We’ll get
to that definition.

Most of us just write these experiences off as if there is
nothing there. Easy to do. Just say it’s just our own paranoid delusions that
are confusing us. We’re all a little crazy, some more than others. I sometimes
wonder if I am the craziest of them all. The Lightless Ones started watching me
from a young age. I know that much. I don’t exactly know what they want, even
to this day, after a couple decades on. I’m not the only one aware of them.
Conspiracy theorists, crack monkeys, delusional fools, pick your title, they
know about the Lightless Ones. They all are willing to admit there is something
more to that feeling. The sensation of something being near. The Lightless Ones
are behind you. I know it. You know it now.

First Sighting

It all started when I was in my senior year of high school.
I took the same path as I always did across the football field to the bus stop.
In that field, I saw a man walking on the outside of the fence of the school
property. It was at the corner of my eye. For all I knew it could’ve been a
strand of my long hair that got in my face. It was windy. That’s what I thought
the being was. Yet it seemed to walk with me. The closer I got to the edge of
the school property I got; it was still there. I could easily distinguish limbs
in a walking motion. Yet, this man was as black as my hair – hence the name
‘Lightless Ones.’ I stopped. I looked directly at the man, but they vanished.
It was as if they were never there. I spun around a couple of times, trying to
see where they were. I couldn’t find them. It was weird, but I made the
conclusion that it was just my head playing tricks on me.

The wind-hair theory only lasted a week. More subtle signs
started showing up. In the classroom, I could see someone watching from the
window of the closed door that led into the hallway. Just like in the field, I
could see them from the corner of my eye. When I looked, the person was gone.
Apparently, I was ‘daydreaming’ as my math teacher put it. He said I should
focus more on my grades. I truly tried to. The Lightless Ones kept distracting
me. I don’t think their goal was to have me fail high school, because I
eventually graduated. I didn’t have any remarkable scores, though. Oh well.

Goodbye Family

Dad was the first to die. It was from a heart attack. None
of the neighbours seemed to care too much when my mom was wailing in pain at
the discovery of her husband on the kitchen floor. Poor mom. We had a funeral.
A few relatives that came by, but that is it. A lot of people began to distance
themselves from us as I got older. I didn’t have a lot of friends in high
school. There was Scratchy Jim and Hot Jane. I did have a thing for Hot Jane. I
don’t think she really knew. She always liked the pretty boys. My acne-infused
face probably wasn’t much of a turn on for her. Scratchy Jim and Hot Jane tried
to keep me distracted from the death of my father. It worked for a while, until
my mom took her own life. I’ll always remember the silhouette of my mom hanging
from the ceiling in the garage. That silhouette, a human shape, all black, just
like the Lightless Ones… always at the corner of your eye.

She had left a suicide note. It talked about them, the
Lightless Ones. The silhouettes. The whole letter was about five-and-a-half pages
long. Most of her words seemed like ramblings. Probably because of the empty bottle
of Jamison’s on the floor beside her hanging body. I still have that last note
to me. She mentioned that she saw them all the time. It is why she
wanted to keep me safe indoors. That explained the homeschooling. My dad
convinced her to let me go to high school. He believed it was good for me to
interact with other kids. Mom was too scared and now I know why. In the note, Mom
mentioned that the Lightless Ones spooked my father, causing the heart attack.
My mom was tired and had given up. She apologized greatly in the note and said
how much he loved me. Yeah… she loved me so much she left me to deal with them
on my own.

My parent’s deaths were only a couple months apart. This was
a year after high school. I inherited the house and all of their possessions.
Technically, I was an adult now so I was on my own. I had considered
postsecondary education but was too depressed after their deaths. I continued working
at the grocery store down the road. I took the same route there five days a
week, passing through the neighbourhood, the bar, and the apartment complex.

Mom and dad were gone. I had a home. High School was over. That’s
when I started to see the Lightless Ones more frequently. That tingling
sensation. I swear my ears twitched anytime a rattling sound occurred. I can’t
even make them move – they did that on their own. I would frantically spin
around, trying to see where the sound came from. Sometimes I’d see one of the
Lightless Ones, as always, from the corner of my eye. People would watch me,
thinking I was crazy. At first, I felt ashamed until I realized that they
weren’t just any people. These people were familiars of the Lightless Ones. Or
maybe they weren’t and just wanted to watch a delusional freak spaz out. Either
way, all eyes were on me. Especially when I was shouting at the Lightless Ones to
stop following.

Goodbye Friends

I tried to tell Scratchy Jim and Hot Jane. Scratchy Jim was
a little more open to hearing my story. He’d say he was there for me in that
typical raspy voice of his. Hot Jane wasn’t so accommodating. She had a stud
for her boyfriend and was accepted into post-secondary education in the next
province over. My confessions of seeing the Lightless Ones was the last time I
physically saw Hot Jane. I miss those freckles. She moved with her boyfriend
and started her new life. She had no reason to keep Scratchy Jim or myself around.
Despite the Internet making the world really small, Hot Jane had vanished
entirely. The world is a big place. You can disappear still. It makes me wonder
if she felt sorry for me in high school and was never really my friend.
Scratchy Jim stayed around, at least for a little while. He was one of those
guys that liked to experiment with drugs – of all kinds. It started with snorting
prescription pills, some weed, speeds, and eventually down to the smack road.
That’s when he began to distance himself. He would hang around those heroin dens.
I tried to visit him, but he wasn’t exactly there. My last visit I spotted a
Lightless One in the den and freaked out. Sorry Scratchy Jim.

With Hot Jane gone, and Scratchy Jim chasing the Golden
Dragon, I didn’t have a lot of other people to talk to. I still don’t. My
coworkers at the grocery store were either old people, or they didn’t speak
English. A lot of the other kids from high school had now graduated
postsecondary education or moved away. They wouldn’t want to hang out with
someone like me.

My walks to and from work became more stressful. The
Lightless Ones weren’t just at the corner of my eye anymore. I could see them
walking right past me. They showed up more often late at night. On my walks
home, I’d think it was a person in the dark until I got close enough to them to
realize that light didn’t cast on their forms – they were pitch black. I would
try to walk on the other side of the street as they continued to walk. Eventually,
I’d pass them. It worked a couple of times, and I began to wonder if they were
simply ghosts or something co-existing in our world. Then the Lightless Ones
started to turn around and follow me. They were fast. They’d hit things,
causing loud sounds to echo down the street. I would run down the middle of the
road, keeping as visible as possible. The Lightless Ones didn’t care, they
would chase me until I made it back home. I locked the doors. They waited
outside. I kept the lights off so they wouldn’t know exactly where was. Home
seems to be the only place they didn’t invade. They could only watch.

Forced Seclusion

Eventually, I started to keep the curtains closed all the
time. I did this more frequently in the mornings. The Lightless Ones are easy
to spot during the day due to the high contrast of their black forms and the
sunlit environment. I could maneuver around them, but they would appear around
corners, trees, or in windows. Seeing them in windows confirmed my theory about
the familiars. The Lightless Ones would be beside the humans watching me in the
windows. These people worked for them. The familiars were on the street too.
They’d act like they were looking at their phones or newspapers, but I could
see their eyes. They were watching, taking note, and seeing what was going to do
next. Some of the familiars would follow me to work and act like they were
buying something. That wasn’t going to work on me. My mom warned me about what
they were doing in her note. The familiars wanted to take me to the Lightless
Ones. They want to make me one of the familiars, forever enslaved.

My manager saw my performance at work start to decline. I
had shouted at some of the customers – who are actually familiars – and they filed
complaints against me. My manager changed me over to the night shift so could
stock the shelves and have less interaction with customers. At least there was the
premium pay for nighttime work. The dark was dangerous. The Lightless Ones had
camouflage. I started carrying a knife around with me. I really had no idea if the
Lightless Ones were capable of experiencing physical pain. The worst-case I
could at least attack one of their familiars.

My manager started to give me fewer shifts. Every walk home,
I would firmly grasp my pocketknife that was tucked inside my hoodie. My heart
raced. The Lightless Ones and their familiars would walk around me. I would
shout at them – telling them to stay away from me. I threaten them with my
knife. It worked. Except for one walk home, they were more aggressive. From
every corner, their blackheads peeked out. The windows had familiars watching
me. They were in cars. At the bus stops. They were behind me. I ran as fast as
I could down the road.

I swear that some of the familiars tried to run me over in
their cars. I couldn’t help but wonder how long they have been watching. If the
Lightless Ones were stalking my mom, and she managed to avoid them until her
death, did they stalk my grandmother too? Or my grandfather? I had no idea. I
just knew I had to run. Eventually I made it home, struggling to get my keys
out of my pocket. I dropped them once. Snagging them I found the right key to
the unlock the door. With my hand shaking, I managed to twist it open, pushed
the door aside, and stepped inside. I could feel one of them grabbed hold of my
back. I slammed the door shut and locked it. Panting heavily, I collapsed onto
the floor as tears began to run down my face. They were everywhere.

Best Course of Action

That’s when I decided I couldn’t work anymore. I stopped showing
up for my shifts. My boss must’ve been concerned because the police eventually
showed up at my doorstep. Part of me wondered if they were familiars too, but
they seem to be okay. They interviewed me asking if I was on anything. I wasn’t
on drugs. I’m not that kind of person. I was stable. I had a good sense of
judgment. That’s how I noticed the Lightless Ones. They will drive anyone crazy.
The police determined there was nothing wrong with me and decide to leave me
alone. Now, I could stay safe. I covered every window with curtains and taped
tinfoil to prevent the Lightless Ones from seeing inside. Rarely do go I go
outside. Anytime I take a peek through the glass to the outside world, I see
them. I tried to take photographs, but they always come out blurry. They must
have some sort of electromagnetic field that distorts technology. It makes you
wonder: are they aliens? Other dimensional beings? Or am I merely suffering
from paranoid delusions? I have no answers. I tried to connect with others on
the Internet – the world shrinking device – to see if anyone else has seen the
Lightless Ones. There are similar stories. Some of these people also believe in
Bigfoot. Where else was I going to turn to? It’s not like anyone else locally
saw sees them. At least I can vent to people on message boards. That is one
good thing about the ever-shrinking world, it connects those who are trapped. The
Lightless Onesa choose who they show themselves to. They select specific people
to be their familiars and they sure as hell aren’t going to convert me. I’ll
fight this to the bitter end.

This is where I find myself today. Alone. I document as much of it as I can online. I wonder if the Lightless Ones are getting smarter, or if my judgment is getting worse. Either way, I have had a difficult time determining who is a familiar and who is not. I stay away from the outside world and people. I don’t know who is a familiar. The Lightless Ones also have better forms of camouflage. I’ve seen half human and half otherworldly. Hybrids. They are evolving. I question how much longer can fend them off. As the months go by, I begin to understand why my mom ended her own life. It may be the only route of escape if I don’t want to be absorbed. This is what I contemplate, as I sit on my bathroom floor, writing this note with one sweaty hand, and the other holding my pocketknife.

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