The new boy

Thoughts

Damien left a few hours before my mum was meant to come home, I got him to promise me that he'd text me when he was safe at home. I say 'safe' relatively, hearing shouting as soon as he got home doesn't seem so safe? I don't know. I mean he's lived there for 15 years now and seems okay, maybe I should talk to him. No he told me to not worry.

As I ate my dinner I pondered over the reply that Jason sent me after I broke up with him. I think that's guilt tripping. I'll ask my mum, she's a nurse at a psychiatric ward, she'll know.

I wonder what my mum will think, maybe she'll ask me why. I'll just explain how angry he gets and how stressed it makes me. I'll mention how I've had anxiety attacks because of these 'little' outbursts of anger.

Maybe she'll tell me to get into journaling to help me out with the anxiety, I know that's worked for a few people.

As I'm washing up I feel as though I'm being watched, but I don't know what. It's all in my head. I comfort myself by saying it's all in my head, because it is.

I walked upstairs and went into my room and shut the door. I looked around at my photos. At the lack of friends in them. I've only ever had one friend. Then we moved away, I wonder how she's doing now. I look at my bookshelf, I'd kill to read those books for the first time again. I stopped and stared at my reflection, I barely recognise myself.  I started to feel dizzy, I walked over to my desk to take a sip of water but I stopped. I had this gut wrenching feeling that someone or something was outside. I turned around and moved my curtains to look out the window.  

There was a figure. A humanoid figure, not quite human, but not quite animal. It was looking me dead in the eyes. I could hear unintelligible whispering around me, like I was surrounded. I closed the curtains. I stared at them for a minute. 

I opened them again. There was nothing there. What the fuck was that?