I shake my head. “I don’t know who it is, but my neighbours saw him here last night, you can ask them.”
“That won’t be necessary—yet. I’m going to find the car and speak with the owner, okay? I’ll take your number, and I’ll get back to you. I’ve gotta go. Busy night and tomorrow will be worse. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”
“Okay, thank you. Officer Cordon, what do I do if it comes back?”
“You go ahead and give us another call. Someone will be out to check. Keep your doors locked. Mind you, this could just be a misunderstanding. A new neighbour parking in front of your house. A visitor from another using your curb as their private driveway, and so forth. Sit tight. I’ll be in touch.”
After he walks back to his car on the road, I walk up to the Hilden’s house and knock on the door. The officer seems to wait until they open it and drives away.
“Stevie!” Alex calls.
Stevie trots out into the foyer and bounds toward me when she sees me. Ace follows her, both wagging their tails as I bend to greet them. “Thank you so much for watching her.”
“No trouble at all,” Carol says, stepping into the door frame. “And you’re early.”
“Didn’t want to keep you up—”
“Listen,” Alex says, “that car was out front again. I saw the officer. Did you call them?”
“Yeah, I got the plates and they’re going to see if they can find out who it is. Maybe then they’ll stop.”
“You remember, you need anything and you come right over.” Alex grabs the side of the door and leans against it.
Carol nods. “We’re here. You’re always welcome.”
“Thank you, guys.” I raise my arm in a small wave and tap my leg.
Stevie follows me down their steps and across the driveway as I dig in my bag for the key.
I unlock the front door, we walk inside, and I flick the light switch on. She trots down the hall, likely to get a drink, and relief washes over me.
The police are on him, whoever he is. The doors are locked. Stevie’s safe. I can take a shower instead of letting her out the back. And the neighbours are right next door if I need anything. Maybe the officer even scared the car away for good.
But that’s not enough for me anymore. I can’t convince myself nothing’s wrong.
Splashing echoes from the kitchen and I take my bag, and pull my notebook out, wandering to my favourite armchair, biting my pen as I think.
It’s not paranoia, is it?
I take my phone from my bag and type in a search engine, fear of being followed. Articles pop up, along with definitions. An odd word catches my attention.
Scopaesthesia.
A supposed method by which humans detect being stared at by extrasensory means… that’s it. That’s how I feel.
I scribble the word at the top of the book and close my eyes, letting tears fall. I remember the first time I felt followed and the strength of the feeling, walking home from Lucie’s. Walking down those dark streets alone and just… feeling that feeling.
Through a clenched jaw and blurry eyes, I start writing.
Scopaesthesia
Looking to my left, then to my right
No one else within my sight but I feel it on my neck
Don’t know what else to expect
I look over my shoulder, cautious around corners
Repetitive behavior, reflection of disorder
All around me
Do you see what I see?
Creeping its way inside my mind
Smothering the life out of my eyes
Darkness is all that’s left behind
So afraid of what I’m gonna find
I sniffle, turning the page, and continue the easy flow of thought.
Locking all the doors, checking every window
Pacing on the floor, where does all the time go
Feeling like an animal living in a cage
Is it even rational to think this way?
I suffocate in silence, no chance of reviving
I think that I’m sinking
Or is someone pulling me down?
Pulling me down, down, down, down
Lie awake at night
Barely breathing
Is it gonna take me while I’m sleeping?
Are you a friend? Should I trust you?
Is it a mistake not to?
My chest heaves and I wipe my tears away as I clip the pen to the notebook again and drop it in my bag. I throw it over my shoulder before climbing the creaky steps, eager to take my wedding dress off for the last time, grab a quick shower, and a glass of wine after. Maybe Officer Corden will have found the guy by then.
I turn right down the hall to my room, passing the bathroom, and stop between them.
There’s something red on the bathroom floor.
I take a step back and flick the bathroom light on.
Red smears all over the white tile by the sink, leading out of the bathroom… toward me… no. I take a step back. Toward my room.
I flick the light on in my room, steeling myself for whatever I’ll find. A dark red mess of a ball sits on my bed. Horror punches me in the chest, knocking the breath out of me as I take a step back.
What is that?
Is that—an animal?
I take a step forward, my shaky hand over my lips as the mess on my bed comes into focus.
Stevie’s toy lamb.
The tumbler jar must have gotten knocked over… and she dragged…
Stevie wasn’t here.
The thought sends chills through me as I run down the stairs, jumping the last three to the floor. “Stevie!” I shout.
I run down the long hallway to the kitchen.
More chills engulf me as the back door sits wide open.
Chapter 18
I can feel you watching me.
“Stevie!” My scream vibrates through my body as I run to the back door and stop just outside where she stands, staring at me with her head bowed down a little. “Come!”
She follows me back into the house, and we jog through the hallway, every second still in the house feels like someone could reach out and grab me at any time. I unlock the
