The Stranger in the black hood

I see him there first thing in the morning and last thing at night. 

He knows all about me but I do not know him. He knows I am vulnerable, and scared. He knows my insecurities and flaws. The black hood on his jacket hides his identity. He stands across from my window, and his dark eyes stare at me, taking notes on my day. What is he doing? What is he writing about?

He has been in my home, planted video cameras in every room. They are set to record twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He watches me when I sleep, and when I eat. He watches me shower and dress. He sees me trying and failing to hide my imperfections. He sees me at my lowest points. He watches the tears stain my cheeks at night, hears my cries of pain and desperation.

He is the reason I lock my doors whilst driving, the reason I panic when I am outside alone. He is the reason I refuse to pick up the phone when an unknown number calls. He has made me scared of living my life and fulfilling my potential.

I wish I knew who this man was. I wish that he would disappear and leave me alone. I wish that he did not have this hold over me. I wish that the power he has over me could be destroyed.


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