I lay awake at night waiting for it to happen. For it to come for me while I sleep or when I least expect it and take me away forever. I constantly feel watched by someone though no one is ever there.

I live with my dad and my younger brother George. George turned 7 last October and I had just turned 18 in December. My dad was a simple minded middle aged man. Do the bills, feed the kids, be....happy. Though when George and I's mom left, the happiness fled from us and castes us into a dark pit of depression. I guess that's where it all begins.

My father brother and I moved to the country. Wide open fields and miles of woods to look through. In the day it all seems spic and span until dawn emerges from the summit of the horizon and puts us all into darkness. As the world gets darker so do your thoughts, as well as the things around you. You start to feel things that you never did before. Things that aren't very...right.

One morning George interrupted the peace at our quiet family breakfast with a strange topic to bring up.

"Dad whose the man that watches us sleep?" George asked our father.

Dad gave him a blanked look before he decided that it was only him... dreaming, and decided to respond with the classic reply.

"George," My father began, "Its all in your imagination."

Though what George said next made me turn my head towards the bedroom door.

As my father is talking care of George and I alone, large property to buy is very rural to come by. George and I have to share a room. One side filled with colorful pictures and books and mine, blank and boring with an office chair, laptop and a large mirror hanging over my bed.

"But the man likes Owen." George said.

Though, Owen is my name.

"George what do you mean he likes me?" I asked trying not to sound to disturbed.

"He stands over you while you sleep." George said.

My father looked over at me and gave me a troubled look.

"George I'm sure it was your imagination. It's only us in this house." Father said, before getting up from the table patting George's head and tapping me on the back before he walked down the hall to his study.

After that I began having a constant feeling that I was being watched. Especially when I am out in the woods. "What am I thinking?" I'd ask myself, "Getting paranoid over something your little brother said? Blaspheming!" Though, I was only suppressing the true nature of the situation. George and I would often play in the woods. After George began to talk about the man I started to feel uncomfortable in the woods.

When emotion gets the better of you it creates a gate way for anything to come out. Rarely good things, and this was not one of those rare occasions. A couple nights later things seemed to die down a tad. but the most odd things started to make me question if I was in the room alone or not. I later down for bed and told George to hit the hay. I laid awake for sometime trying to get the sleep that seemed so far out of reach. Though, something was off. I looked over to the door to George and I's room and saw that it was open a crack. Not enough to see the darkness of the hallway but enough to tell I didn't fully close the door. Which is strange because I remember hear ding the click of the door meeting its end point. I started feeling troubled and began towards the door. Then I realized something. As I started getting closer I realized the door was actually closed. The way the door looked and the lighting of the room made it look like it was open a crack, making a strange allusion right? Well that's what I thought.

It was things like that that surely started to make me feel more and more frightened by the things surrounding me. George continued to talk about the strange man in our room but what made me believe him was the detail he put into the way he moved and the position I was in when I slept. George said one day that he arrives around once a week one Tuesday at 1:30 AM. "Every Time he is closer." George would say," And every time you act more and more weird Owen. Is he hurting you?" George would ask me.

George is only a kid he can't possibly understand what he is saying. Can he? He is pretty smart for a 7 year old but if his older brother was in trouble he would know. Though, this seems like an exception.

Shortly after I soon realized every week things would get worse. From nightmares to seeing shadows out of the corner of my eye I could tell it was getting worse. It was like I had my own personal stalker and the more freaked out I got the worse.

Emotions channel the very being you are and let anything more powerful than you manipulate it. You can try to make things better but in the long run things happen for a reason. Though, the reason for this isn't shown I me by any means. I feel this is an accept ion for me. I am happy I really am and who cares about my mom she left us she's just some old bitch that can shoot up in some ally somewhere and die. These were all negative thoughts at made the situation worse for me.

A couple weeks after I realized things had been getting worse I avoided mirrors. I don't know why but a couple of days ago I looked into the mirror above my bed and felt like someone else was staring back at me. I stopped looking in the mirror over my bed as well as the mirror in the bathroom.

I began to feel distant from my family. As if the strange man grabbed my arm and stated to pull me away from reality. I started to become consumed by the ever lasting stalker the crept up my bedside while I slept.

One night I was taking a nice relaxing hot shower to try and ease away the stress. Though, I should have thought twice before getting soap in my eyes in the process. the glass door separating the inside of the shower to the rest of the bathroom was very faded so no one on he outside could see inside. Though, the inside was faded too which caused me to jump whenever George or my father walk in to brush their teeth or something like that. This night was different. I was shampooing my hair when I accidentally got some of the soap in my eyes. It started to burn as expected so I turned towards the shower head and let the poring water do the work. Though, I wish I never looked at the glass door because what I saw made my blood run cold. What I saw was what looked like to be a completely black figure of a man on the other side of the glass. Staring as if he could see thought the foggy glass door that kept it inches from my face. I wanted to scream but nothing came out. It was like it was forcing me to stay quiet so it could further examine me it I knew I had to get out of the bathroom because whatever it was, its intentions were devastating.

We stared at each other for what seemed like several long minutes. The soup from my eyes eventually cleared and I could now make out the figures detail even more. Though, there wasn't much to go by. It looked purely like a shadow around 6'3 Ik hight and peered over me with a faceless gaze. It took a step closer and I shot back to the shower wall behind me. Gasping for air I tried to figure out an escape

For some people in desperate situations they have a moment of strength. Some people can have everything slow down and they can figure out the problem and solve it. Though, this wasn't one of those times. I wasn't one of those people that can use adrenaline to my advantage. In dire situations some people make the situation worse with their fear. They contemplate the overall problem and start to... Freak out.

I turned to the tray in the shower that held all out soap and bathing utensils and I started throwing them over the shower door trying to make it go away. It wouldn't move. It was like it was a literal image stuck to the foggy door of the glass. I then grabbed my lass article of defense. It was the metal pipe that keeps the shower running.

In situations some people do things they wouldn't normally do. It seems like the right way of survival but in the end was a stupid way to act on the situation.

"Get back!" I finally say under my breath. Though, this is when I realize I am truly scared out of my mind. My voice, my poor voice let out the most pitiful high pitched noice that obviously signified with terror in my voice. It tilted it's head slightly to the side as if it was pleased with myself actually being able to let out a sound at the most. I was impressed to.

It's head regained its natural stance and it took another step forward. I gasped for a breath that I couldn't obtain. It was like the closer it got the closer to death I got.

"I'm warning you dammit!" I yelled stay back!"

Though, as I spoke it seemed to become even more interested in me and got closer. As if the terror in my voice fueled it to continue on with its horror fest.

Slowly, it got closer to the door. Slowly it rested its hand onto the door handle. I aware my heart sank into my stomach when it grabbed the door handle. It wanted to get inside to do who knows what to me! I had the most blood chilling scream at my lips when the door swung open and almost cracked the glass. Though, what I saw was the worst part. I knew it was there but I couldn't see it.

When the door swung open I began to scream but was stopped when I saw nothing there. An empty bathroom later before me. My blood ran cold and I began to pick up all the soap back onto the shelf where it belonged. The room seemed to be clear of the shadow but I could still feel it's blank stare creeping down my spine.

For some people, after going through a traumatic event they start to believe that everything around them has to do with that exact event. They start to feel every little thing is tired up to it somehow. This is one of those times.

The bathroom was clean and I headed off to bed. My body still shaking from the experience I just had but I thought of only one thing. Sleep, maybe it would help me ease my mind and I can carry on with my damn life. On my way back to the room I scanned all the hallways all the door ways all the black spots that keep light out of them thinking that it might be there . That it might be watching me ready to pounce and end me. After several minutes of constant scanning I eventually got to my room. Everything seemed the same accept... my mirror.

The mirror, it was as if it was in the bathroom with me while I was taking a shower and the condensation had gotten on the glass. It was foggy. Just like the glass door in the bathroom. I tried to get a better look and saw my door slowly creek open. I tried to turn towards the door but my eyes were fixed on the mirror as if something was pinning me down I couldn't move! Then I started to see it. Emerge from the dark hallway into my bedroom. It was the shadow like stalker that had been feeding on my terror. Because of the damn mirror I could hardly see it just like before. I couldn't move and I couldn't scream and all I could do was wait for it to get closer. Step by step creak by creak It got closer to me as I could see in the mirror. It got closer and closer until it was practically behind me! Then, it lifted its right arm and put it over my chest. I could feel it's breath on my neck it, it started to sting. As the breathing continued for a long time. Then it spoke. Its voice was deep and terrifying most definitely the scariest thing I have ever heard.

"The decline of your life has lead to this moment" it said. Though, I could only stare at it through the foggy mirror and let whatever it was going to do, happen.

It then cocked its arm back and stacked it through my chest sending the most painful shock throughout my body. My mouth hung wide open and my body shook as its arm got deeper and deeper into my chest until it got closer to my heart. It grabbed it then.

"I condemn you." It said, I blacked out.

When I came to I found myself in a hospital room covered in balloons and flowers and get well signs. George and my father where nowhere to be seen but a doctor stood over me.

"Hello Owen." He said, "How do you feel?"

"I feel, funny." I said trying to sit up but feeling a sharp main in my chest and falling back into he bed.

"Don't move so much Owen." The doctor said. "Do you know what happened?"

"No." I replied.

"Well young man you had a major heart attack." He said.

A heart attack? How could that have happened? I remember the shadow shoving its arm into my chest and practically. That's when I realized it. It tried to kill me. Though, I couldn't mention it to the doc as he would probably send me to a mental institute.

"A heart attack?" I asked, "How is that possible I'm only 18."

"We believe it was through major stress inflicted upon yourself." He said. "Have you been under extreme stress? Has there been anything going on in your life that could cause something like this to happen?"

Though, I knew exactly what happened. The emotion of everything had gotten the better of me and made an entity to send me to the pits of hell. After so much had happened I was mentally able to see the thing that everyone encounters in their life. I told he doctor I couldn't recall anything and he left the room. But I knew this wasn't over. The shadow was real and it tried to kill me. I knew this wouldn't be the last time I would be visited by it. My despair had drawn it to me and now it won't stop. Its a demon, the demon that everyone has but they just need to see it. The demon that turns people's lives around for the worse. The demon that haunts us all.