I went on a camping trip to France a few months ago alone, and I took quite a lot of pictures while I was there, planning to compile them into a slideshow when I got home.
The day I left for the ferry, I packed my suitcase, containing my selfie stick, clothes, toothbrush and all the other vital stuff, into the back of my car and head off. About half way to the ferry, I was jamming to my Sam Smith album blasting in the car, when I thought I heard a camera shutter sound behind me. You know the sound your phone makes when you take a picture? Exactly that. At first I thought I was imagining it but it sounded pretty close; right behind me actually. The music wasn't on that loud, so I would have heard it. Abruptly, I swung my head round, only to find an ordinary, empty backseat. Strange.I didn't think much of it at the time; Sam Smith soon had me under his control.
Nothing else peculiar happened after that. I enjoyed my week in France; sightseeing, restaurants, selfies, landmarks. The caravan I stayed in was beautiful: the curtains were decorated with gorgeous red roses and sofa was a cloud. It wasn't until I got home when it happened.
The day after I arrived home, I sat down at my computer and imported all the pictures from my phone. As I was looking through them, I discovered pictures, quite a lot, that I definitely hadn't taken. They were pictures of me. Sleeping. My whole body was in the pictures: my hands were to my chest and I was curled under the blankets. As I scrolled through them, I realised there were two pictures for every night I stayed there; my pyjamas were different every night. Although, the next picture was no better.
It was me driving. The day I had driven up to the ferry. The picture was taken from behind me and captured my hair in a saggy bun and my hands on the steering wheel. So I didn't imagine it. Whatever it was, I was in my car and I had taken it with me. Wait, did that mean I had brought back too?
Click! There it was again. That sound I knew I now hated. Coming from behind me. I leapt up from my seat like a jack in the box and spun round. Nothing. I rushed over to the sofa and grabbed my phone. I clicked on 'gallery' and.....oh god. It was a picture of me, sitting at my computer, wearing the same clothes. It was in the house.
The police searched the whole house but nothing was found. I never had that experience again but I will always be afraid that I might suddenly hear a 'click' coming from behind me...
