The Watcher

Content Warning: The Watcher heavily features discussion of suicide.

May 2, 2023

I woke up with a chill again, my head under the blanket and the cold in stark contrast to the warmth under the covers. It took me a long time before I mustered the courage to pull the blanket off my head and look at my bedroom. I knew what I would see there. The same thing I always saw. The same thing I had been seeing for a year now.

Sure enough, when I pulled off the covers and peered into the darkness, he was there. Cyril. He didn’t move to harm me. He didn’t speak. Everything was still and silent. He simply stood there, at the end of my bed, watching me with a blank stare. 

It was still dark. It was early enough in the morning that it was still night. I was exhausted from night after night of this same experience. I pulled the blanket back over my head and tried to go back to sleep. I didn’t get another wink though. I could feel Cyril’s cold stare boring into me through the covers.

I decided today to start journaling my experiences with Cyril. I need people to know I’m not crazy. I need people to know what happened to me if and when he finally snaps and drags me with him into death. I’m terrified.

May 5, 2023

I tried talking to him today. It wasn’t the first time I have tried. He responded the same way he always does. Which is to say, he didn’t. He just stood there, staring. Watching me. 

He had never been talkative in life either. He was the quiet sort. Even when people were cruel to him - and they often were, he suffered in silence rather than raise his voice. His silence invited cruelty, I sometimes think. He made himself easy prey because he never fought back. I often saw him, mocked by people who were far too close to say it was behind his back. Then, one day, I saw him step in front of the truck.

Now he’s here. I don’t know why people treated him the way he did. I don’t know why it’s me he’s haunting. I never hurt him. Maybe there are others? 

I hope he doesn’t follow me to college.

May 17th, 2023

I think people are starting to worry about me. They’re noticing that I’m not getting enough sleep. They see me spacing out. Only, half the time when they think I’m spacing out it’s actually because I’ve spotted him again. Lurking on the periphery of my vision, standing behind someone who is speaking or peering at me from the doorway.

Sometimes I wish just one more person could see him. I think everything would be easier to deal with if I wasn’t the only one. Most of the time though, I hold those thoughts at bay. Nobody else deserves this. I don’t even deserve this.

June 1st, 2023

I should probably be better about updating this journal with regularity, but there isn’t really that much to report most of the time. It’s always the same thing. Cyril stands there in silence. He watches me.

Today though, I decided to take action. I have always worried that people will think I’m nuts if they catch me, so I’ve put off trying. But I have to do something or I’m going to go crazy. I Googled a bunch of things that can supposedly ward off spirits. Different plants and objects. I’ve got a bunch of them stashed in my room now. I’ve tried discreetly scattering salt in places before and obviously that did nothing. Hopefully these methods are more effective.

June 2nd

Nope.

June 17th

I got fired. Fucking Cyril has even cost me my job now. I kept seeing him. I would get distracted when talking to customers or take too long to do things because I was trying to avoid him. My manager thought I was on drugs. I was only working there until August anyway but it still stings. I haven’t told my parents yet. I don’t know what to say.

July 2nd

My mum sat me down to talk to me today. She asked me if I was doing okay mentally, pointing out my lack of sleep, the spacing out, my getting fired, that I couldn’t find other work and that I’m going out less. I knew people were noticing things. I didn’t know it was obvious how bad it had gotten. 

She asked if it was anxiety about college, or if I was in some sort of trouble. She suggested therapy. I told her that I’m fine and that it’s just insomnia. It’s not like I can tell her that I’m being haunted by the ghost of a guy I barely knew. A therapist can’t help me. Maybe I should try a priest. Not that they wouldn’t just assume I’m crazy too.

I’m going to talk to a doctor about sleeping pills though. Hopefully that will keep my parents from worrying. Maybe they’ll even help me ignore Cyril and get some sleep.

July 21st

When nobody else is around, I sometimes talk to him. Not that he ever talks back. It’s not that I’ve gotten used to him exactly, but sometimes it just happens. This is hardly the first time I’ve gone through one of these phases. I could swear though, that there’s something different in his expression when I talk to him. Something angrier. It’s so subtle but now that it has been this long with him haunting me I’m almost sure I’ve seen it.

I wonder if I should try it more or less. If he’s angry, good. He deserves it at this point. But I’m scared about what he might do if I push it too far.

July 28th

I’m all packed. I leave for college in the morning. I suppose it’s time to find out if Cyril will follow me to the next state over or if he’ll finally leave me alone. I’m not hopeful. There’s nowhere I have gone so far where he hasn’t made an appearance, looking at me with that unnerving stare that worms its way under my skin. Even when I can’t see him, I can feel it. It leaves me with a chill that nothing can warm. 

I can feel it now. He’s not in here with me. I think he’s watching from the yard or across the street. I’m scared to check. I don’t want to look out the window and see him looking back. 

July 29th

He came with me. Of course he fucking came with me. He was in the seat next to me in the car for half the drive. He could have reached out and touched me if he wanted. I could have reached out to him. Not that I really could. I’ll just pass right through him. I’ve seen people walk through him before none the wiser. Not even the chill I get from him.

Now, he’s in my dorm room with me. I wonder how long it will take for my other roommate, James, to think I’m an addict or I’m losing my mind. He seems like a pretty chill guy, but not chill enough to not be concerned if I mentioned the dead guy standing in the corner with us right now.

I’m not sure I’ll keep writing these entries. If anyone reads this, they’ll have enough. I’m not sure I see the point of writing any further. He’s never going to leave me. I don’t think he’s going to kill me anymore either. Not directly. I think he’s going to drive me crazy until I step in front of a truck like he did.

September 15th

I guess I’m going to start writing again. I don’t think I need to chronicle things any more or whatever. But I need to vent somewhere. Cyril is ruining everything. I’m too tired to focus on classes. I’m too distracted by him to study. Not even my social life is safe.

I brought a girl back to my room earlier tonight. She was pretty. She was enthusiastic. I thought maybe it would be a way to let out all of this stress. But I couldn’t go through with it. I tried but Cyril was there. Standing next to my bed. Watching. Staring. I wanted it, but she thought I wasn’t interested. She left ten minutes ago. I’m not sure she’ll talk to me again if I try. I’m so angry and frustrated and tired. 

Why me?

September 20th

I woke up during the night last night. I felt that familiar, icy chill. I knew he’d be there. But when I opened my eyes he was leaning right over me, face-to-face. He’s never done that before. I screamed and backed into the corner. James woke up. He looked scared when he saw me like that. I must have looked crazed. I couldn’t even tell him what was wrong.

November 3rd

Cyril has pulled the same stunt a few times now and I always end up screaming. Sometimes I turn my head and suddenly our noses are nearly touching. I don’t know why he’s waited until now to get worse. I’m terrified of where it goes next. 

James ended up moving out of our room once he could find somewhere else to go. I kept waking him up or distracting him. I creep him out. He avoids me when we run into each other on campus.

I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

November 11

I yelled at him today. I screamed my throat raw. I insulted him. I swore at him. I begged and pleaded for him to just tell me what he wants so I could put him to rest and get on with my life. He didn’t respond. Just like always, he just stared at me.

I threw things. I broke things. Nothing. He didn’t even blink. All I achieved was needing a new laptop and pretty much guaranteeing that they’ll kick me out soon. There’s no way people didn’t hear. I was already bothering people with the screaming every other night.

November 12

I can’t help but dwell on yesterday. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I just wish he’d talk to me. If he would just talk to me this wouldn’t be so bad. I could help him with whatever he needs. We could arrange things to be tolerable for both of us. Fuck, at this point we could even be friends if he wanted. 

I just want to understand why he’s doing this to me. I never did anything bad to him. I never involved myself with him at all. I wasn’t one of the assholes. I was on the outskirts of his life. An onlooker at worst. 

November 30

I’m surprised it took them this long, but they’re kicking me out of the dorm. I’m too much of a distraction apparently. More people telling me I need therapy. Like that will help. If I can’t find somewhere else to stay I’ll have to drop out.

I’m so done with this. If you won’t tell me what you want, then leave me alone. Just leave.

October 6th

I couldn’t find anywhere. I can’t do this anymore. Fuck you, Cyril.

October 8th

I’ve had enough. He wins. I’m going to make this stop.