It was like the painting was watching me as I moved across the room. The eyes were so lifeless but yet so real. Watching my every move that I made, oh did those dull, lifeless, hollow yes haunt my dreams that night as I slept. I swear those eyes were watching me as I slept. I must be crazy but no they were watching every move that I made, haunting me but why maybe I’m just seeing things but no those eyes were so dark looking at my soul seeing through the lies the shame. My fortitude was no match for the evil glare of the painting it was like it was taunting me. Against the evil penetrating stare of the painting nothing could have made me feel so uncomfortable than that painting. It made my bones chill and my body quiver and shake uncontrollable but I stayed in that room with the painting watching me and all night I strived to hold out until morning but though in fear of my own life. I threw the covers off me I jumped out of bed and ran over to the wall picked up the painting and threw it out the window. I crawled back in to bed and went to sleep but not right away I still had that painting on my mind but I stared to think about something else until I fell asleep.