The Eyes

        I couldn't sleep at night for a long while, for which I though were my neighbors were keeping me awake, making awful noises next door. The police would stop by every now and then asking me questions about my neighbors, which I would answer as I always did, “I don't know anything about them really. All I know is they make an awful big racket most of the time.”

        For all I knew they could have been partygoers or serial killers and I could have been in danger. But as always I stayed calm and just ignored them and stuck to my new schedule I had. I would sleep during the day and be up at night, that way the noise was mostly when I was awake. I used to get up at 6 AM and have breakfast, or a meal close to it. It would be dinner or suppertime for most of you normal day people. After that meal I would start up my computer. That horribly slow ass computer. It wasn't slow, but the connection to the Internet was only 9600 KB. After about five hours or so I would start getting hungry again and have myself a sugar high. I would eat almost everything from Pixie Stix to pop tarts. The sugar would keep my up during the slow parts of the night when hardly anybody I knew was on. From time to time I would glance out the window and see these glaring eyes. Those eyes, I later found out were from something I had experienced earlier as a child. I would just ignore them and continue “working” I called it.

        After a couple hours of playing PC games such as Star Craft etc. I would log on to the Internet and go to a video game message board where people with hardly any lives would talk about how they beat all these different games in a matter of days. There I would talk to some of the people online and turn off the television because all they would play were commercials for workout machines and erotic videos. On the site, we would usually exchange artwork we did and stories about victories on the videogame of the day. After they down for sleep like normal night owls did, I would log off and turn on the video game system I had and play till about five or six and quit about then. This time I would eat my last meal and listen to music and draw until about eight AM and I go off to sleep because I would get quite tired. These are my regular days. On some of them I might go down to the local AM PM and grab some snacks and a couple magazines to occupy my time. It was all the same.

        Let me tell you about before all this. I didn't have to worry about money, for I had plenty from a little “miss-hap” at the bank in which I gained around nine thousand dollars. I was depositing a check for around eight hundred dollars and someone behind the counter screwed it up and gave me more than I should have. A little later I went and withdrew almost all of it and transferred to another bank under my “other” name. My name I used when I used to be a hacker.

        I used to buy CD's and video games and hack past the firewalls and make copies and sell them for the full price. Everything was going well, until someone broke in and stole everything. It was probably good they did because someone alerted the police and when they came I had literally nothing left of the job I was doing. After that happened I had to start over on money and everything. Imagine, having it all and then having to start over from scratch.

        I never really had a real job, that was legal I mean. I would do some hacking for people here and there, selling illegal copies of stuff. It wasn't until a couple years later I didn't need to work anymore. I got a letter in the mail about how I had dying relatives who had chose me, their only living relative, to inherit five hundred thousand dollars and a condo in Nevada. I was ecstatic! These people really must have had it good; they had real money. Not that fake stuff most people call real. Not anything like five to ten thousand dollars, but hundreds of thousands. I knew about them for a while before hand, but wanted nothing to do with them. That is, until I got that letter. All I had to live off was that money I got from the miss-hap at the bank and a couple hundred a week for selling pirated movies. That was, a couple hundred hit or miss. I was usually broke and had bills to pay so I started cutting back on a lot of stuff. Like, I would only use one lamp at a time and I had energy saving bulbs for them. I never really needed much light because my eyes were about perfectly adapted to the low light.

        I thought, when I got the money I would try and finish collage. I never finished because of financial problems. I only finished the first three years. They weren't dead yet, and I was already making plans. I think back now and almost despise myself back then.

        About three or four months later, my relatives passed away and I got the money and house. I moved into it right away. And, instead of using the money for something useful like college, I played the stock market. I invested almost all of it into a couple different stocks and just about doubled my money! I bet you're wondering what a schmo like me would do with close to one million dollars, but this story isn't over.

        Soon enough I had almost all the stuff I wanted and needed. I redecorated the hose to my likings and made a small garage/game room to hang out in. After all this I had about half of the money left and decided to leave it there and only get some when needed.

        After almost two years of living off what I had stowed in the bank, with about two hundred thousand left, I decided to sell the house. And believe me, I got a lot for it! I moved somewhere closer to the city, which is the house I am in now. But it wasn't always this peaceful here; like I said in the beginning the police would ask me about my neighbors all the time. At first I thought that they were watching my neighbors as if they had two strikes, making sure they didn't do anything illegal or something along those lines, but they would ask me about me and the stuff I was doing and what kind of locks and security I had for the house. You know, like what locks I used and if I had burglar alarms or not, things like that.

        I didn't think anything of it at the time and just went on with my life, ignoring those eyes that constantly looked at me through the windows. Then the neighbors got really loud at night and I couldn't sleep well. That's when I moved to the night schedule. Sleep during day, and awake at night. I used to wake up at about noon and go to bed at something around three AM, but I can't anymore. The neighbors got really weird and loud so I moved my schedule. It's a weird lifestyle if you think about it. I don't have a tan because of it, finding a date is hard because what's breakfast for you is dinner for them, and vice versa.

        It wasn't until about a month or two later I found out that the police that would show up and ask me questions weren't actually police, but my neighbors. They broke into my house with the knowledge of my lock systems and since I had no burglar alarm I wasn't informed until I was gagged and hogtied. I lay there for about ten minutes waiting to see if they would come back in and kill me, or something of the sort. But when I heard them rummaging through my CD collection I knew I was safe to crawl over and get my knife out and cut myself free. I had to get free, because I figured that once they got all they wanted they would leave the state with all my stuff, and I didn't want that to happen!

        I actually got free when I heard loud crashes of my CD's falling all over on the floor. Unlucky for them I only had one lamp out there that worked. The other few needed light bulbs and I was going to get them sometime soon, but thank god I didn't. When I was fully freed I was reaching for my security baseball bat I kept near my bed when I got hit in the head and blacked out.

        The next thing I remember was being strapped down to the ground and I couldn't see well because there were bright lights and blood in my eyes. It felt as if someone had poured salt or sand in my eyes. When I fully came to I found myself strapped to a hospital gurney. I remember it being daylight as they took me from the ambulance and into the hospital. Apparently the burglars, AKA my neighbors, had gotten away with all my stuff, I was thinking at that moment not worrying about my burning eyes or the fact I was in the hospital.

        I had only minor head injuries, and minor bruises for a while, and all the blood was from when I fell. MI landed on a stool and it left a scrape on my head which bleed like crazy because of there was no muscles to absorb the blow as if it were on my arm or leg.

        All I cared about was if they had gotten away with it all or had been sacked by the people that called 9-1-1.

        Later I found out that there were two robbers in my house that night, my neighbors. But they didn't get away, but they weren't sacked or arrested either. As it turns out, they didn't even exist. The people across the street had heard a bunch of noise and decided to come over and see if I was ok, when they saw my entire CD collection fall over with nobody there. The people from across the street were about to go back when they heard me yell and came in to see what was the problem. They found me bleeding and laying on the ground and called an ambulance immediately. After the police had searched my house for signs of other people, they found no trace of anyone but me.

        All I remembered before I went to bed early that night, about five AM or so, was a pair of yellow eyes staring back at me through the window…a pair of glaring yellow eyes. Those eyes. I saw them everywhere. I guess they tried to get me and almost succeeded. They would usually stare at me from a bush or something. That's the story of my little “accident” as far as I know. All I remember and all I'm going to say. Someone may know more, but I never bothered to find out as it happened to me and I should know.

        I feel as if I'm going to change my lifestyle and try day living.

~After note from his loved one~

        My husband died yesterday with cuts and scrapes over his entire body, although he wasn't dead at the scene he died in the hospital from blood loss. His last word were “Those eyes…those bright, glaring eyes…”

        He did change his lifestyle apparently soon after the attack I assume, because he told me of the story when we met, and he even had some of the scars and bruises to show. But later, we fell in love and got married. We had a son together, I'll tell him of his father's experiences when he's old enough. But that's not important. What is important is that you know the whole story.

        After we got married, he said something about eyes staring in from the window. He would mumble about them from time to time. “Those damned eyes…” he would mumble. I would ask him what was wrong and he's reply “Nothing.” He kept them a secret from everyone. When he was found yesterday he told me the whole story and told me to tell you it all. He told me to finish it.

        The doctors said they were from early childhood experiences and if he ignored them they would eventually go away after a while. But he told me that he finally knew what they were from. He said something about as teenager; he had witnessed a murder that he could have prevented. It was the lights reflecting off the deceased's eyes that were following him, haunting him. But he didn't and for the rest of his life he had those eyes haunting him. The souls of the deceased getting revenge on him for not doing anything. He felt guilty about the murder, but blew it off and tried to get on with his life, but the feeling later came back to haunt him. Most of this information was found in a box of journals I had come across in the garage. I found them and started reading.

        It was the sol of the deceased that had finally done him in. The guilt had overcome him and beaten him. It was the spirits calling him to the grave for he had not done anything to save the poor man.

        Just let this be a warning to all who hear this, if you find a dying person, help them if possible so you save 2 lives instead of one.