Short Stories

Desperate for Attention

I grew up knowing that someone was always there, watching me.

Either it be a supposed god or a man next door. There was always someone seeing everything I did.

When I sleep I feel the eyes on me as though there was something in the room, someone laying next to me. When I undress I feel them watching from multiple hidden cameras and cover myself as much as possible.

I understand it's not true, I understand I'm not right in the skull.

But I can't help but break down when I'm alone with my thoughts, sitting in the dark, speaking to whoever is listening.

Yes, I speak to them, I have no other choice sometimes. It becomes a regular thing to speak aloud to yourself when you're as insane as you are lonely.

Maybe that's why they watch? I was so alone I made people in my head be interested in me, like a show or movie. I was so desperate for attention that I dreamt it up, and now it's out of hand.

Maybe it spirals from the people actually after me? From my stalker to my old mentor. They were there and apparently never left.

Maybe it's real. Maybe there are people planning my every move, testing their work. Maybe it's a scientific study on the human brain and reactions.

Maybe I'm going to die if I question or know any more.

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