Aberrant

Chapter 1 - Eyes

I can feel them watching me. Their eyes caress my skin as I make a steady pace up the empty street. I can always sense them, they never stop. This feeling; the feeling of utter fear and confusion. The feeling hasn't stopped since a couple of months ago, since I first felt the harsh touch of their gaze. Maybe I'm crazy, I mean, I have no proof; just this irrational fear in the back of my mind that never stops. I feel their gaze when I'm in my bedroom from time to time, and let me tell you, when they watch you in your own home there is nothing more terrifying.

The cobbled stones beneath me create the light sound of my steps, distracting me from the deafening silence that surrounds me. I used to block all of this out with my earphones, but now the simple thought of not hearing my surroundings is petrifying as anyone or anything could sneak up on me.

The cold chill of the early morning breeze makes me shiver; it's either that or my body if just reacting to their stare again. I tug my thin coat closer to me, my mum would probably scold me for not listening to her when she told me to bring a thicker coat, but no way am I going to admit that she was right. Besides, I didn't think that I was going to miss the bus, did I? I wouldn't of needed a coat if I caught the bus, plus it's my mum's fault that I missed it in the first place. "Eat your breakfast" she said, "You won't miss the bus" she said. Stupid mother. Making me walk three bloody miles to school.

Suddenly a scream erupts from behind me. I spin around, looking for the source of it. My heart beats harder, like it's trying to jump out of my throat. My hands become sweaty and start to tremble. I can barely keep a hold of my bag, I clamber to keep the straps in my grasp. A loud crash emerges from a small alley, followed by grunts and strange words.

Before I can even think I'm running up the street, my bag slamming against the hind of my legs in my hurried escape. My lungs burn as they try to keep up with my legs. I'm not even thinking now, my only thought process is to get the hell out of here without being killed or kidnapped. I can't die. I still have so much to live for, well not really. I don't even know what I want to do with my life. The only thing I have going for me is my ridiculously good grades and my friends and family. Actually, that's what most people have going for them - maybe not so much the good grades.

I slow down as I make it to the main road, my lungs and thighs are on fire. This must be a sign that I need to go to the gym more often.
Nah.
I seriously need more motivation.
I can no longer feel their eyes or hear any screams. Maybe I just imagined them. If anyone saw me sprinting past their house they probably thought that the drugs still hadn't worn off from Sunday night.

My school is in view now, just a five minute walk up the road. I walk slowly now, still trying to get my heart back to normal and trying to sort out my hair so I don't look like a poodle. As I take a few steps forward I realise that my feet are hurting. At times like these it when I curse my sensitive feet the most. I have sensitive everything for God's sake. I even have to wear those clothes that are made specially for sensitive skin.

I still don't feel anyone watching, but I glance behind me to check. I'm about to turn around when a boy steps out of the street I just came from. That's not weird at all. I bet he's the one that keeps staring at me. Stop. No. Stop imagining things, I can't just accuse some boy of being a creepy stalker.
Well, I can, but I shouldn't.

The boy keeps his head down, letting his brown hair fall into his eyes. From here I can't really see any noticeable features, but he appears to be tall, well built and dresses kinda nerdy, maybe even hipster like. He's probably got the play Hamlet on his person and some Starbucks coffee. Boy, I can even see that he has a pair of chunky glasses on his face.

I ignore the boy as I make my way into school and immediately go to the dinner hall in search of my friends. They'll be a great distraction. They can tell me about their weekend out partying and how other people humilited themselves.