Shadow in the Corner of your Eye

Lurking, Listening, Laughing

A sharp, late winter wind pierces through the jacket I'm wearing, and I involuntarily shudder. My feet tap against the cold, hard concrete, leaving imprints in the shallow frost. The fragments of snow long forgotten cling to my tennis shoes, and I purposely stomp them off, only for the shards of ice to gather again moments later. My pace remains even and calm, but the trembling of my legs betrays my fear. If I dared to look up from the pebbles on the sidewalk, I would see green buds starting to peek out the skeletal arms of trees, each one reaching towards its neighbors. But I do not look up, because I know that it will be there. Looming over me with its jagged rock spires, impaling the cold, dark sky. The exterior is solidly built, though the stone walls were slowly crumbling away. The entire cathedral reeks of death and isolation, but the worst part has to be the gargoyles that sit at the top of the walls. The granite demons terrify me, for every time I look them in their cold, dead eyes, they wink.

I learned that they are always watching.

No one believes me when I tell them it's there, just up the hill and to the right of the ruins. They say that I must be imagining things, and I received many a comment how I was 'Most Likely to go Insane'. My parents did not help this matter in the slightest. Once, I was brought to a hospital by my mother, who was afraid that I was delusional due to a terrible disease I must be contracting. She cried when I checked out as a healthy teenage girl, with a perfectly normal mind. Another time, my father brought me to a mental institution, believing that the prospect of sitting in a padded room with a 'nice white jacket' would shock me out of whatever lie I was telling. He didn't speak for weeks after I still insisted that the cathedral existed. He eventually started talking again, but only to my mom and my brother. None of my family members spoke to me from there on out. Conversations would dwindle to a still silence whenever I walked into the room, as if having a conversation in my presence would send me on another tirade about the strange building behind the ruins. If they even cared to think about it, they would have realized that I stopped talking about the monsters after Dad went silent.

I learned that a madwoman does not belong in a family.

Despite my lack of mentioning them, I still saw the cruel beasts that dwelt inside the abandoned cathedral, invisible to everyone except for me. I don't know why I am the only one who can see them, only that no one else believes me. Occasionally, one will wander past the windows, making the glass shudder with every step they take. I sometimes see a few on the roof, curled into a ball almost as if they were taking a nap. A couple of them purposely stay in the slim entrances, silent and firm. I have seen creatures of every kind imaginable, from the ones that haunt your nightmares to the demons that lurk under your bed. I sometimes watch them when I think they can't see me, but when I look away I can feel them watching me too. But they never step into the light. I've seen a few attempt to, always when I walk past the ruins alone, but they are repelled by some invisible barrier, where the bright sun meets the inky black shadow.

I learned that I must fear the dark.

Never have I dared to walk past it when the light faded from the sky, and the stars took its place. I always made sure I was indoors before dark, and safely under my covers. In response to my absence in the night, the monsters would plague me with horrifying noises. The sounds often drift into my dreams, turning them into nightmares. I didn't go to any gatherings that met after dark, partially because I was often sleep deprived from the night before. But the largest reason is because I am afraid that the creatures will find me. After all, since I started seeing the cathedral six months ago, I had never watched the beasts at night, when there was no light to keep them at bay. But tonight was my best friend's birthday, and she asked me to come so many times that I cracked. For the majority of the night, I stayed huddled in a corner, absently sipping a glass of lemonade. I lurked on the border, until they brought out Spin the Bottle. They all agreed that everyone needed to participate, and that is when I absolutely put my foot down. I set off into the night, more concerned with my dramatic exit then how I would get back to my house.