Maya had always been a night owl. She enjoyed the quiet calm that settled over her small apartment as the city outside fell asleep. But recently, she'd noticed something strange during her late-night routine. Every night at exactly 3:03 AM, her phone would buzz with a notification. Each time, it was the same message: **"Are you watching?"**
At first, she thought it was some kind of prank, but there was no number attached to the texts—just the words, eerily consistent in their timing. Maya brushed it off as a glitch and continued scrolling through her phone, her curtains drawn tightly shut. She felt safe inside her tiny, dimly lit apartment.
One night, curiosity got the better of her. She set an alarm for 3:02 AM and waited, her heart pounding as she stared at the phone. At exactly 3:03, the notification buzzed again. **"Are you watching?"**
This time, something compelled her to look out the window. Her hands trembled as she stood up and cautiously pulled the curtain aside. The street was empty, bathed in the yellow glow of the lamppost. But there, at the edge of the light, she saw a figure standing perfectly still. It was tall, unnaturally so, its face hidden beneath the hood of a long, dark coat.
Her heart raced, and she quickly shut the curtain. Trembling, she backed away from the window. Her phone buzzed again. She glanced down, her stomach twisting in fear.
**"I see you."**
Maya's blood turned to ice. She raced to the door to check the locks, her mind whirling with panic. Who was this? How could they know?
She tried to sleep that night, but every sound in the apartment seemed magnified—the creaking of the floorboards, the rustle of the wind outside. Hours passed, and she finally drifted off, exhausted from fear.
The next night, the message came again. **"Are you watching?"**
This time, she didn't look out the window. She refused to acknowledge the presence. But the following night, the message changed. **"Why aren't you watching?"**
For days, she tried to ignore the texts. But the figure was always there, standing at the edge of the lamplight, unmoving. And then one night, the messages stopped. The silence was almost worse.
Relieved, Maya let herself relax, thinking the nightmare was finally over. But as she lay in bed that night, her phone buzzed once more. She slowly reached for it, dread pooling in her chest.
**"Look behind you."**
Heart pounding, she froze, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she turned her head. The figure from the street was standing in the corner of her bedroom, its hooded face mere inches from hers.
The last thing she saw was a hand reaching out to touch her cheek.
