You Were Always There

Unseen and Watching

Ariel stared at the door, her chest heaving as she pressed her back harder against the wall. The whisper still rang in her ears, soft and persistent. Her mind scrambled to make sense of it all, the events colliding in her head like broken shards of glass.

Was it Matthew? Could it really be him?

Her hands trembled as she clutched her phone, scrolling through the messages. The words blurred together, mocking her with their simplicity.

You were never supposed to leave.
Let me in.

Her heart pounded as her eyes darted to the door, the deadbolt gleaming faintly under the flickering light. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to think. Matthew had always been calm, almost gentle, even when they argued. But there had been moments-small moments-that felt wrong when she looked back. The way he stared too long at her during fights. The way he'd go silent when he didn't get his way.

And then there was the night he left. His voice, low and resigned, still echoed in her mind. "You'll never be happy, Ariel. Not like this."

She opened her eyes and stared at the door again. Could he be punishing her? Was this his way of proving her wrong, of tearing her down completely?

The floor creaked behind her, pulling her from her thoughts. She spun around, her breath catching in her throat. The room was empty, but the air felt heavier now, as though someone had been standing there just moments before.

The television flickered to life again, the sound of static filling the room. Ariel's head snapped toward it, her pulse racing. The screen displayed her hallway once more, the familiar angle zooming in on her front door. She watched, frozen, as the view tilted downward, focusing on the gap beneath the door.

This time, she saw something. A shadow passed across the floor, faint but deliberate. Her stomach churned as the shadow paused, unmoving, before retreating out of view.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she nearly dropped it. A new message appeared.

You know who I am.

She let out a choked sob, her fingers tightening around the phone. "Matthew," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why are you doing this?"

Her own words felt hollow, ridiculous even as she said them. Could it really be him? The idea seemed absurd, but nothing else made sense. She wanted to believe it was him, that he had somehow orchestrated all of this, but the gnawing doubt in her chest refused to let go.

The television screen changed again, pulling her attention back. This time, it showed her living room. The angle was different now, positioned behind the couch, as though someone had been standing there, watching her.

Her heart stopped as she saw herself on the screen. She was sitting on the couch, her phone in hand, her body trembling. She realized she must have backed into the couch moments ago without noticing, her legs giving out beneath her as her panic took hold.

But the version of herself on the screen looked wrong. The movements were too stiff, the expression too blank.

The version of herself on the screen slowly turned its head, staring directly at the camera. Ariel's breaths came in shallow gasps as the reflection smiled-a slow, unnatural curve that sent chills down her spine.

The television went black.

She scrambled to her feet, her body trembling as she backed away from the couch. Her mind raced, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She grabbed her bag, clutching it tightly as she turned toward the door. The cold metal of the handle felt like a lifeline as she gripped it, her fingers trembling.

The chain rattled softly as she pulled it away. Her heart pounded in her ears as she unlocked the door, every movement feeling slow and deliberate. The door creaked open, revealing the dark hallway beyond.

She froze.

There was no light, no sound. Just an endless expanse of shadows stretching into the unknown. She hesitated, her foot hovering over the threshold, when a faint noise reached her ears-a shuffle, like fabric brushing against the wall. She stepped back, her chest tightening as the sound grew louder.

"Matthew?" she called, her voice barely above a whisper. It felt ridiculous to say his name out loud, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was the only explanation. Her voice echoed faintly in the empty hallway, but no response came.

Her phone buzzed again, pulling her gaze downward.

Stop pretending you don't know.

She dropped the phone, her hands shaking as the weight of the words pressed against her chest. She stumbled back into the apartment, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she pressed her back against the wood, her legs trembling beneath her.

Her gaze darted around the room, searching for anything that felt real. Her eyes landed on the coffee table, where another note had appeared, sitting in the exact same spot as before.

Her stomach churned as she approached it, her steps slow and hesitant. Her hands trembled as she picked it up, the jagged handwriting sending chills down her spine.

You have always been the one.

The words blurred as tears filled her eyes. She crumpled the note in her hand, her body shaking with fear and confusion. The air in the room felt suffocating now, pressing against her chest like a weight she couldn't lift. She backed away from the table, her vision swimming as the walls seemed to close in around her.

She froze as she caught sight of her reflection in the darkened television screen. It stared back at her, pale and trembling, its eyes wide with fear. But something was wrong.

The reflection wasn't moving.

Her stomach dropped as she stepped closer, her breath hitching in her throat. The version of herself in the screen tilted its head, its movements slow and deliberate. Her own head stayed still. The reflection's lips curled into a smile, the same unnatural curve she had seen before.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "This isn't real."

The reflection's eyes darkened, its smile widening as it leaned closer to the glass.

"Yes, it is."

The sound of her own voice filled the room, low and distorted. Ariel screamed, stumbling backward and crashing into the coffee table. She hit the floor hard, her breath knocked out of her as tears streamed down her face.

Her phone buzzed beside her, its screen lighting up with a new message.

It has always been you.

The words burned into her mind as the shadows in the room thickened, twisting around her. She clutched her chest, her sobs echoing through the stillness as her vision blurred.

The last thing she saw before the world faded into darkness was her own reflection, smiling at her from the television screen.