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He follows me all day, parroting my every movement. I think for a moment that he is gone, but then I turn and there he is, still behind me. My dark, silent stalker.
Others don't understand. They claim they don't see anything amiss. Some laugh and insist I am only joking when I point him out. Some walk quickly away. Perhaps they, too, see the threat.
He disappears late at night, when I crawl into my bed. While he may be unseen, I can still feel his eyes upon me, watching and waiting, knowing that soon the dawn will come.