Day 298

You try not to remember what happened in your neighbour's flat.

The psychiatrist said something about repressed memories.

But you remember what you found there.

What it caused and how you still see them everywhere.

You were twelve and your neighbour had asked your family to look after their plants.

They were going away for a month somewhere, you've forgotten where.

Your volunteered to water the various plants there, you found it fun.

Until you noticed a weird colour seeping out from under a door.

You wondered if he's spilled ink on the ground, it was the same colour as ink in the movies.

It took you several days to work up the guts to go open the door.

Another day to turn on the lights.

The room was filled with glasses in heaps and stacks.

Some of them were rusted and melting, some were so tiny you could have held dozens in one hand.

You decided to take a pair right from the back, they weren't as rusted as the rest.

With all of the glasses in there you figured your neighbour wouldn't notice.

They looked like they'd fit you, after you washed them of course.

You kept them hidden from your parents, stealing was bad but you doubted anyone would know.

After trying them on in your room you found they fit you perfectly - like they were made for you.

A sudden noise outside of your window caught your attention, it was like a wet thump.

Had a bird hit the glass?

When you peered past the curtains, someone was peering back.

Their face was leathery and grey, their eyes locked with yours and they began to scream.

SHE SEES US, HEY EVERYONE A GIRL SEES US!

Dozens more came floating up to your window, pressing their faces against the glass.

All of them were yelling, telling you to open the window and talk to them.

They wanted you to tell their loved ones things, why weren't you listening?

The yelling grew louder and louder and you began screaming for them to be quiet and go away.

And that's how your parents found you.

Ever since you put those glasses on you've been able to see them.
Those grey people floating everywhere, smothering the sky with their translucent forms.
You couldn't let them know you could see them.
When your neighbour came back he knew right away that you'd worn the glasses.

That was when he tried to take your eyes.
He said it was for your own good, they won't leave you be while you can see them.
Luckily someone next door heard your screams and came rushing through the open front door.
You hoped the grey things hadn't heard what he said.

They had.
Wherever you go they always follow behind you.
They don't yell any more though, they've moved on to writing on every surface near you.
It's amazing what people don't notice.

The writing appearing on their desks, their clothes.
The sudden headache as words are carved into their foreheads by grey hands.
How they trip over sentences carved deeply into every inch of ground around you.
Sudden flat tires as they become pages for unseen words.

You don't read the words, it only makes them come closer.