Incessant Obsession

Phobia

𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢! : ѕтory wιll conтaιn G̡̘̬͈͙̝̗͕̒̒̆̇͞l̨͉̜̯̤̫̄̐̓̊͌̀̒͟t̟̯̙̖͈̙͐́̂̈́̀͑͂̉͘͘͟i̸̢̧͉̖̊́̈́̓̂͊̇̕͜͝c̹̥̹̠̮̯̽̎͆̈̚̚͘ͅh̥͈̪̺̝̽̐̎̒͢͡G̡̘̬͈͙̝̗͕̒̒̆̇͞l̨͉̜̯̤̫̄̐̓̊͌̀̒͟t̟̯̙̖͈̙͐́̂̈́̀͑͂̉͘͘͟i̸̢̧͉̖̊́̈́̓̂͊̇̕͜͝c̹̥̹̠̮̯̽̎͆̈̚̚͘ͅh̥͈̪̺̝̽̐̎̒͢͡dιѕтυrвιng eleмenтѕ ιnclυdιng pнyѕιcal тorтυre ,мanιpυlaтιon, vιolenт conтenтѕ, тнoυgнтѕ oғ depreѕѕιon, ѕυιcιde and мany oтнer тнιngѕ. G̡̘̬͈͙̝̗͕̒̒̆̇͞l̨͉̜̯̤̫̄̐̓̊͌̀̒͟t̟̯̙̖͈̙͐́̂̈́̀͑͂̉͘͘͟i̸̢̧͉̖̊́̈́̓̂͊̇̕͜͝c̹̥̹̠̮̯̽̎͆̈̚̚͘ͅh̥͈̪̺̝̽̐̎̒͢͡ιғ yoυ are ѕenѕιтιve тo тrιggerιng тopιcѕ, тнιnĸ G̡̘̬͈͙̝̗͕̒̒̆̇͞l̨͉̜̯̤̫̄̐̓̊͌̀̒͟t̟̯̙̖͈̙͐́̂̈́̀͑͂̉͘͘͟i̸̢̧͉̖̊́̈́̓̂͊̇̕͜͝c̹̥̹̠̮̯̽̎͆̈̚̚͘ͅh̥͈̪̺̝̽̐̎̒͢͡G̡̘̬͈͙̝̗͕̒̒̆̇͞l̨͉̜̯̤̫̄̐̓̊͌̀̒͟t̟̯̙̖͈̙͐́̂̈́̀͑͂̉͘͘͟i̸̢̧͉̖̊́̈́̓̂͊̇̕͜͝c̹̥̹̠̮̯̽̎͆̈̚̚͘ͅh̥͈̪̺̝̽̐̎̒͢͡вeғore yoυ conтιnυe.

𝕊𝕦𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 : тυrn on gιven мυѕιc.

✂ ✂ ✂

Chai doesn't remember the last time she wasn't scared, or the time when there was present genuine animation in her stormy grey eyes. If she recalls right, this humdrum of raw fright was as vivid as it is now since her early childhood years.

Today is one of those days that overflow with apprehension and disquiet. Outside the world is madness of dismal rain and chaotic wind that knows no direction. Ominous, threatening, menacing, baleful, the roar of thunder. Like the blood-curdling screams of eternal damnation. A tumultuous peal of thunder tears across an inky black sky. Blinding...blinding...blinding...

Crack!

Chai's shoulder-length black hair swerves left, thin bangs that barely reach her lashes criss-cross over a pallid, small forehead; curious eyes follow the sound of breaking glass.

Mommy always had the curtains pulled wide and full, to shroud the medium window that looks outside. Chai never liked windows. It only added to her fear. No one would ever remove the curtains, but now, but now... someone had pulled them apart.

Rainwater splashes and crashes over the glass sash, trickling down in gentle but rapid zig-zagging streams. She can see the yard outside, a place that is made formidable and dark by this everlasting shower. Ruinous and brooding. Cold and icy.

Her lips tremble. The callow heart of a 10-year-old is pessimistic and horror-stricken, overawed from the inside. Hands shaking she is unable to keep her hold. The pencil falls from her grip with a small clank down on tiled floor. The rest of her body is deathly still.

He is watching. He is watching. He is watching. He is watching.

No, she cannot see him. She never did, but Chai always knew, always felt the those scarlet, nefarious eyes of a person not from this world whatsoever. They are no human eyes. They are slicing and brutal, wanting to savage her very existence, wanting to devour everything that she has.

(...mommy why didn't you give me the pills? i need the pills momma, i need him to-)

"Go away!" Two small palms immediately clasp over her mouth, restricting any more sounds. She didn't mean to scream out loud, she doesn't want any more attention. She doesn't want to speak to-who? Who is she speaking to? There is nobody there. No eyes there. No eyes, but someone is watching. Intent, unfaltering, barbaric, memorizing her every move. She can feel it. Chai can feel it in her heart. Some monster eyes watching every second of her life.