Shiny Eyes

I don't know when it began following me. Maybe it always was. I can't be sure, honestly. But I remember when I first noticed.

I was home. Alone on my couch. Watching tv one night. It was a long day, I remember that. And the damn deadline. But I didn't have the energy for that. No. I needed to zone out. I was drifting along with whatever show was playing. No, commercial actually. Car insurance? Car something, I'd seen it a thousand times that night already. The same old rhythms drudged on and on.

And I heard it, something so subtle. Like a whisper. Or a thought floating to the surface.

I hardly noticed it at first. There were so many strange sounds that came from my old building, these apartments were cramped, stacked like old boxes next to that awful, mossy smelling river.

There it was again, that sound. I listened for it.

Then I heard it as if it were spoken right into my ear. Creaking like old wood, if old wood could whisper, it said, "It finds you."

I jolted up, touching my ear, and looked around my small living room. There was nothing there, nothing wrong. I heard it, I swore I did. Swore it said those words. That voice still echoed in my head.

I fumbled the remote to hit mute. Listened. The tv's buzzing went dead. The flashing pictures and people danced in silence on the screen.

I waited. It could've been the neighbors? A noises from outside, like an old car maybe? A cat making strange sounds in the night? No.

I buried the thought.

I unmuted. And leaned back on the couch again, fidgeting with that bunch of hair I couldn't stop touching. I couldn't focus on what I was watching. Still, I sat and watched. Watched the commercials go.

Eventually I shut it off. And got ready for bed.

It finds you.

Did it really say that? I closed my eyes, fighting thoughts in my mind until I eventually drifted to sleep.

It finds you.

"Mom?"

"Hi honey."

"What's up?" I leaned back in my chair, keeping my eyes on my computer screen, tracing line after line of tedious words I crafted for work. My deadlines crept towards me like storm clouds coming. I still had time but time was running out.

I cursed under my breath.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I said how are you doing?"

"I'm good! How’re you?"

I said I was good. She asked if I was eating well, I lied. She asked about my work, I gave her the answer she wanted. I knew better than to talk to her about the real things.

"Oh, guess what?" She said, "I'm heading up to the lake next week."

I stopped.

My mouth opened but nothing came out. I watched the screen as my mind went somewhere.

The lake. That summer. The shouting.

"Hello?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm here."

"Did you hear me? I said I'm going to the lake! Isn't that exciting!"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard."

"But I'm staying at Dora's this time. I'm not wasting money on another B&B. I don't care how close it is to the water."

She continued talking but my mind was still caught.

Mom leaving. Alone. Dad's swimming lesson. The water.

"Think I'll take exit five this time. It'll take longer, something like forty five minutes. But there's hardly any traffic that way so no more than forty five minutes. It's just been so long, I wanna see the scenery again. You can't see it from the highway but you can see it from the road. It's just a bit harder to navigate."

I hardly listened.

Sam. Finding Sam. That sound he made. That sound.

My guts turned.

"But it finds you," she said, "no matter where you go."

I paused, trying to make sense.

"What did you say?"

"It finds you." She said. "The GPS. I was saying you can't get lost anymore because it'll know wherever you are. So the backroads will be no problem."

"Right," I said, releasing a held breath. My fingers fidgeted with my hair again. "Hey, actually I gotta go Mom. I got some work to do."

"Oh. Ok then."

"Yeah."

"But hey! Before you go, I was thinking. You should come up to the lake with me!"

"No!"

"Huh?"

"Are you serious?"

"Oh come on."

"No, Mom, why would you even ask me that?"

"I was just hoping you'd wanna come hang out with us."

"Not there!"

"Oh stop."

"No! You know I hate that place."

"Yeah, but it's been so long."

"So? I don't even know why we're talking about this."

"Don't be difficult."

"I'm not being difficult!"

"Yes you are. Just come! It'll be fun. And I want to see you."

I stuttered. All my words were caught. Caught in my chest. Caught like struggling fish in a tightening net. I shut my eyes. And swallowed it all. I sighed.

"I just... I got a lot of work to do."

"Oh. Alright then."

"Yeah... I love you."

"Love you too."

"But hey, Mom," I said, finding something to say, "Just. Be careful. Okay?"

"Oh don't worry about me."

She's doing it again.

"Just," I said through gritted teeth. She couldn't just give me this. I sighed again, "Ok, Mom. Bye."

“Bye bye! Talk to you soon.”

I sat looking at my screen. A few moments passed. Then I powered off my computer.

That night, I shuffled into my bedroom, set my alarm, climbed into my bed, looked at the book on my nightstand, again promised myself I'd read it soon, and turned off the light. I got comfortable under the sheets, thought for a moment, double checked my alarm, then settled back into bed.

That damn lake.

Why would she invite me to that damn lake?

She knows I hate that place. So typical. Ignore problems or leave, that's all she does. I'd go up there for what? So she could just leave again? At least she's going straight to Auntie Dora's this time. But why even go up there at all? She should hate that place too after everything with Dad. After the fighting. His drinking.

He never did say sorry after that.

I buried the thought.

Hours passed.

It was so still in my bedroom. Stuffy and quiet. So much old air lingered. But I kept my windows closed; that mossy smell made me sick. I could see the river from my window, one of the many reasons I hated my apartment. That river, that dirty, murky, deep thing. Anytime it was too quiet, on weird nights when everything seemed off, when it was like the whole world was asleep or dead, I swear I could hear that river. A low, endless whooshing. Like a giant inhale, one neverending gasp for breath.

"No sleep," said a creaking voice in the dark.

My eyes shot open. I searched the room, my body tense and still. The moonlight that streaked in from my window washed the walls with a dim, cold glow. There was nothing there. But I swore the room was falling—sinking.

I shook my head. More sounds playing tricks on me. Must've been. Just sounded like something else, that's all. I shut my eyes to steady myself.

"No sleep."

The creaking voice was louder. Clearer.

My eyes darted around my room again making sure nothing was there; the sound was too real. But nothing. There was nothing in my room. Still empty. Except for. For... In the far corner.

My eyes strained to make it out. A mass in the shadows. For a second, it looked like a figure. But it couldn't be, it was too odd shaped. I stared at it. I stared. Then my blood ran cold.

I was a child—I brought Sam to the lake—Sam was my cat—Sam got out—it was night—I went looking for Sam—I shined my flashlight—I found Sam in the dark—Sam was laying on his side—Sam’s belly was torn open—blood—Sam’s eyes caught the light—they were glowing—they were glowing—strange sounds.

That mass in the corner of my room, it had eyes. Glowing eyes. Sam's eyes. But bigger. Huge, circular, bulbous eyes. It stared at me. No pupils. Just that eerie, yellowish, relfective shine; shining eyes set in that dark mass. It had teeth. Tiny, sharp, little teeth stretched into a crooked smile. But it wasn't moving. Unnaturally still. Still as a puppet. Staring. Just staring. Watching me. Waiting. Eager.

My pulse thudded in my head. But I couldn't move. Petrified by terror as it watched me from the corner with those shiny eyes.

I remember wanting to run, I couldn't. I remember clutching my sheets. I remember sweating. But I don't remember falling asleep. At some point I did. I must have. I don't know how long that thing crouched in the corner. Hours. Hours.

I went into work the next morning like nothing happened.

I had trouble focusing on anything. Nobody could tell. At least I hoped not. How would they react if I told them about the... What was it? A ghost? A demon? No, stop. Those things aren't real. I was just dreaming. Just dreaming.

Bury it.

I refocused on my work.

That night, I laid in bed, lamp on, and I stared at the far corner. The empty space where that thing was.

I shook my head, smiling to myself, and shut off the lamp. Hours passed as my mind wandered to strange places, horrible scenarios that made my teeth grind. Then I swore I heard it. That river, that endless whoosing. I groaned, yanking my hair.

"It finds you." Something croaked.

I jolted. My eyes darted to the corner. No mass. No demons. Nothing but the shadows of the night. I shifted, examining the rest of my room. Everything seemed fine. I eased but my heart was already pounding in my ears.

It was just a dream, remember?

I was shaking. I clapped my hands to my face, trying to calm my wild breathing. Either my hands were cold, or my face was hot, I couldn't tell.

"Dig, dig, dig." It said.

I gasped, my breath freezing in my chest. It was here. It had to be. Or was I dreaming again? I didn’t want to look. Slowly, my eyes drifted upward. My room was dark, but still empty.

Then, at the foot of my bed, a pair of large glowing eyes opened before me, floating in the nothingness. Round as the moon and haunting. My mouth gaped but I couldn't scream, my throat was tight as a fist. Its own mouth formed, also floating, a hundred sharp little teeth knit together and pulled into that crooked smile. It wasn't a face, it didn't have a face. Just that strange implication of one.

"It's got you." It said without moving, as if its creaky voice was in my head.

I screamed and hit the lamp. Light burst. The thing was gone. Vanished.

I grabbed my head with jittering hands, eyes burning, face tingling.

"Everything’s fine, everything’s fine," I said, repeating it to myself over and over again. "There’s no such thing as demons."

Bury it, I thought.

Bury it like I should’ve buried Sam.

I met with friends the morning after.

"Are you listening?"

"Yeah, sorry," I said, "I'm listening."

"Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Wow, very convincing," my friend Alex said, sipping her coffee. We met in a cafe, waiting for the others to arrive.

"I just haven't gotten much sleep lately."

"The deadline?"

I cursed, slapping my forehead.

"I take it you're behind then. But that's not what's keeping you up, huh?"

I took a moment. What would I say? Haunted by demons? I couldn't. She wouldn't understand.

She waited for my answer.

"I, um. My mom. Brought something up to me. That's been making me think of some stuff from the past. And it’s been kinda stressing me out."

I winced. Bad diversion. I didn’t want to talk about that either.

"Ah, some unresolved stuff?"

"I wouldn't say unresolved." I said, rubbing at the slight tightness in my chest. "It's just making me on edge." I tried to sigh it away.

"Mmm. Well maybe you should talk to her about it."

"No. There's no talking to her, trust me."

"Oh. Well, all I know is, when things aren't dealt with they rot."

I thought for a moment. I should've called Mom back. Whatever her reasons were, she'd been through enough as it was.

"Or just go see a therapist," Alex said with a chuckle. I smiled.

"Right." I said as something over her shoulder caught my eye. I looked past her. And saw it. The thing crouched in the corner, eager eyes set in a dark, dark mass. Unnaturally still. In daylight. In public. Watching me. Smiling.

My heart stopped.

"What's wrong?" Alex said.

I looked at her, then looked back at the thing. She followed my gaze.

"What happened? What's going on?" She said, with a double take back to me.

"You-you don't," I began. I stopped. Didn't she see it? No. But why?

I swallowed.

"Nothing." I said, heart still racing. "It's nothing. I, uh. I just thought of something. The deadline, I just remembered. It's nothing though."

"Really?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, unable to resist glancing back at the thing in the corner. Its eyes still on me, its teeth still bared in that crooked smile. I looked away, shutting my eyes. "But, uh. Go on. You were saying something before. About your plans? The trip?"

"Oh... Right," she hesitated, eyeing me. Then continued.

I kept my eyes on her. But I could see the thing in my perifieries. Crouching.

Ever watching me.

Soon the others arrived and joined us. They sat and conversation sparked amongst them. I pretended to be casual. But my breathing was uneasy. Nobody noticed. I tried following the conversation. My leg jittered. The pointless, dragging conversation. I kept fidgeting with my hair. I tried listening. My eyes kept darting back to the thing in the corner. It still didn’t move. Nobody else in the cafe seemed to see it either. They continued on, acting like it wasn't there. What did it want from me? My skin crawled. I took a sharp inhale and refocused on the conversation.

I left with Alex, glancing back to make sure the thing didn't move. It stayed where it was, never leaving. But its eyes followed me like a paintings would.

Alex said to call her if I needed someone to talk to. I said ok, though I was hardly listening. I was dreading the coming night.

I sat in bed. Awake. I didn't know how long I was going to fight sleep. I left the lamp on. I knew it wouldn’t matter.

I don't know when I closed my eyes.

"In in in."

I had a dream about that summer at the lake. Sam was alive. He never got out, never got hurt. Dad was there. But he wasn't drunk this time. He and Mom weren't fighting. She didn't leave me with him. And we were happy. Then I was suddenly in the water again. Dad was holding me under again, teaching me. I was drowning again. Dying again. Again. Again.

"In in in, my fingers are so thin." that creaking voice said, the smell of moss and old water was heavy in the air.

I woke and opened my eyes.

It hung on the ceiling above me. Its shining eyes, that smile. I pulled from its gaze and saw its arms stretched down towards me, horribly long like spider legs. I followed them until I realized its hands disappeared into my chest. Its fingers wriggled inside me. My lungs burned.

"My fingers are so thin, they go in in in."

I screamed and flailed. I hit the cold, hard floor, my legs caught in my sheets.

The thing retracted its arms. Sitting on the ceiling upside down above the bed watching me. Watching.

I touched my body. Nothing. No wounds, no blood, nothing there. But the pain. It was real. I felt it.

"Never sleep, dreams of deep. Never sleep, dreams of deep. It finds you always. It digs inside. It comes out ways. You can't hide."

The thing floated down from the ceiling like it was in water, twisting and swaying above me in strange movements, its gaze never leaving me. Its mouth opened. Those little fangs like cat teeth. And it croaked. A dreadful croak. One I heard before. The one Sam made when I found him that night. That strange sound, that weak, dying, haggard, creaking sound.

"No!" I screamed, clapping my ears, "NO!"

"In in in, to come out out out." The thing said.

It sank, swooping directly towards me, plunging itself into me. I thrashed, desperately trying to save myself, hopelessly, like I was drowning in air. Drowning again.

The thing consumed me, and ate the rest of what it had slowly tore at for years. It had gotten into my mind and infected all my thoughts. I began thinking the way it had, despite how hard I fought. Now I knew what it was, now I had the sight. It grew inside until it became me, like an evil parasite. The thing festered and rotted, clawing at my mind. Digging and digging, to see what it might find. That night I found Sam, I was so scared I ran home. When I came back to him, he had died all alone. Dad threw me in water, but I had never swam. Would Dad let me die, like I let Sam? It'll always find me hiding, it'll croak, it'll creak. And if I should stay silent, then so shall that thing speak. Shiny eyes, and fangs little and thin. It'll dig, dig, dig its way outside from within.