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I sat there engrossed in a novel, floating around in another world. I
could read all day pretending I was a self-created character in the
story. My imagination ran and ran, with pictures spinning round my
head. I could turn words into scenes I wish I was that person in the
book, imaginary. Suddenly the phone rang. I could feel all the
emotions out of the silence. I jerked forwards with shock and stopped
breathing for a moment. My eyes came off the book and travelled across
to the phone, which I grabbed.
Who will it be this time? "Hello", I whimpered in a nervous voice. No
reply. I raised my voice, which did not seem like me at all. "Who is
speaking? What do you want?" Still there was an endless silence,
enough to hear deep heavy breathing down the other end of the line. I
began to hesitate and became worried, "Leave me alone", I shouted. I
slammed the phone down although I have no idea why. Slouching down on
the sofa, I reflected on what had just happened.
Over the last month, I had been getting endless amounts of phone-calls
of these kind. At first, I thought they were hoax calls, the silly
pranks kids play on you; it is their idea of fun, nevertheless it
began to get worse. I would be phoned day after day, and the caller
would listen to me on the other end, until I was screaming and
shouting. It was rather creepy and terrifying and the silence made my
heart pound. It was as if someone was stalking me. They knew what I
was doing, all my moves, and every second of my life, even a blink, or
They would ring at a time when I was busy doing something. This always
made me scared as I became shocked and shook from terror. I would also
get letters, full of bitter horrible messages, such as, 'I know your
dark secret' and 'I'm going to make you pay for this'.
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"An Eye of Evil - Original Writing." 123HelpMe.com. 18 Jan 2020
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really hate me that much? Should I believe these messages?
I was petrified with horror when I found this hate mail. What had I
done to deserve this? I was a lonely person living in a small home
seeking companionship. Day in day out, I live life quietly, reading
novels, living in another world. Never in my life, have I caused
trouble. I have only learnt to live a simple life where I respect
other people's privacy. All day since these events, I would constantly
stare out of the windows shaking with fright, on a lookout to find my
stalker. The nights were worse, as I could not sleep. The emotions and
thoughts twisted and turned round and round my head, until there was
so much pressure I would explode. The shadows of the trees swaying,
kept me awake. My stomach was in knots all the time and I could hardly
control my shaking. Inch by inch someone was moving closer to me, like
deadly vermin, ready to poison my brain.
I became extremely paranoid and felt someone was watching my every
move, recording it in exact detail. One simple mistake and I would be
digging my own grave. All around me, I could see eyes following me,
giving sly indications that something was going to happen to me. The
eyes were evil; they had a sparkling glint in the centre, giving me an
impression that I was going to be tortured.
The nightmares were terrifying. It was this, which triggered off my
panic attacks. In my sleep there was evil, out to get me. All around
me were shadows of black with blood curdling faces chasing me,
screaming in a deep brittle voice, "It's payback time!" I could see
knives in the hands of these people. Running faster and faster, I
tripped over the footpath. Everything became a blur and I realised it
was just a bad dream. One that may come true. I heard a creak from the
stair. Was someone there? My heart began to pound violently and
trickles of sweat streamed down my cheek.
Was paranoia taking over my life? I could hear muffled voices
repeatedly. I could not live her. I had to escape. I could hardly
breathe. I took deep breaths trying take some sort of control over my
body, calming my self down. My hands clasped and unclasped in terror.
I had to run away. My head was spinning round and round. Was I living
a terrible nightmare? That is exactly what it felt like.
I made my way to the cupboard and frantically searched for a torch.
Slowly I made my way to the garden shed, slithering like a snake
ensuring I was not to be seen. It was a scary journey, even though it
was my own home. The shed was the only place I could go to. There were
fairies at the bottom of my garden. I locked the shed and sat down in
the corner. A friend once told me that she would protect me. The shed
was always her favourite place. It was the only safe place I could go
to where I felt secure.
I chanted her name, in a desperation hoping she would give me some
sort of signal. I made it a soothing area by putting an armchair and
some candles in the corner. The fairies would look after me. They
would make sure no one would touch me. I prayed for help from my
friend. I sat on the armchair rocking myself to sleep. No one would
touch me, I was blessed by angels, and they kept a look out from above
and demolished all evil.