My Eyes

My eyes. You have them.

Yes, you are alive, and yes, you live in this house. I live here, in this house also. You just don’t see me. Because I am not alive.

Not in the same way that you are, anyway.

I see you clearly…

You run around, and you drink your dark coffee, and you operate your smart devices, and you do your oh-so-very-important work, something to do with education…contracts I believe. You believe so much in the importance of your own existence, you sweat over your work, your expectations, and what others expect from you, but you have no idea of what is really important in this world.

You have no idea because you take for granted everything that you have, that you own. I take nothing for granted. I have no body. I have no eyes.

I am a shadow of the person I used to be. All I want are my eyes. And you have them. But what I haven’t figured out yet is how to take them back from you.

I will, though.

I don’t yet know how. But I will.

I am always just a shadow behind you (you see) as you move around and live your life. With every breath you take, I take a silent breath too, right behind you.

The shadow on the wall is me as you take a shower…

Every night as you sleep, I am beneath you, my essence caressing you, moving with you as you breath, my chest rising as yours rises. Up and down.

When you dream, I see your fears, your fantasies. I know what you really love and what you really hate. I know the parts of you that you are ashamed of and hide from others.

I know you and I feel what you feel. I still want your eyes though. I more than want them; I need them. I need to see again, to live again.

To live through you, to feel through you… it means more than anything.

*

I am getting closer, I am closing that gap between us, over time. Very gradually, in increments, as I cause you to feel more afraid in your own skin, you are, without realising it, emotionally vacating your body and inhabiting your head more, your brain.

And when that point comes where you are too terrified to sleep, where you just don’t want to be in your own skin anymore, because you can sense my presence a mere half-breath behind you at all times, and you cannot stop looking over your shoulder, I will simply step into you, and I will inhabit your body.

And over time, I will control your movements, and after I have mastered that, and your sense of powerlessness is complete, I will start merging my personality with yours, and your thoughts and feelings will no longer be yours.

Yet there will be a tiny part of you still, cowering in a corner of your brain, aware that you used to be you, and now you are a speck of dust, wishing you could be snuffed out fully, so that you wouldn’t have to be alive and conscious while unable to speak, move, or control a single solid thought or emotion. Like a paralysed animal taken over by a predator.

I will become you, and you will very, very slowly, become… worse than nothing. Because at least nothing has no awareness. You will know. And you won’t be able to see. Because…

I will have your eyes. You will only have blackness. And for that I thank you.

Now come here.