I'm Watching You | Teen Ink

I'm Watching You

March 2, 2009
By Kasturi BRONZE, San Jose, California
Kasturi BRONZE, San Jose, California
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

He was still staring. No matter where I moved, his eyes tracked me, never blinking. I attempted a calm fa'ade, a paper boat, floating tranquilly on a lake. I closed my eyes, and saw his lifeless fish eyes, staring unblinkingly. My hands shook. I glanced again, slowly, a nonchalant expression etched onto my face. I glanced around me frantically, for an escape, any escape. There was none. Our section was a modern tomb, spotlessly clean, dead. Empty, static, silent. For him and me, in our compartment, it was just the two of us.

I tried not to look at him. I tried observing the minute details in the sterile, bare, white walls, as white as if the colour had been drained out of them, one drop at a time. Drip, drip, drip. I shuddered, ice running down my spine.
I heard a noise, and I looked up, directly at him. He was still staring. The corner of his lips seemed to be viciously twisted upward, as if his mouth only dimly remembered the memory of a smile, eons ago perhaps. But this, I barely noticed. His eyes, his muddy eyes pulled me in, with a strange glimmer, a malevolent flicker. My whole body trembled as I felt ill at ease.
I could not understand the emotion tumbling throughout me, though. Of course, the tremendous, overpowering, primal fear. Yes, that, of course, but also, I felt oddly complemented. No one had ever bothered to look at me before. Always my sisters. I was overshadowed in every way possible, beauty, intellect, personality, talent. There were ten-year-old boys who had passionately, embarrassingly, profound crushes on my sisters. There were boys my age, confessing to me their secret love of years and years for my sisters. But here, here there was this man, who had looked. He had looked. It was too bad he had to be such a creep.
He was still staring. His face expressionless, he stared. The train slowly screeched to a stop. He slowly got up, his eyes still on me. This was the last time I would ever see him again. If I was lucky. The doors crawled open. He stepped off. Time seemed to slow, just for those precious seconds. Everything was excruciatingly clear in my mind.
He was still staring. I looked back hard, for the few seconds before the doors closed. I pointed to my eyes and pointed to him. I'm watching you. The doors snapped shut, and the train pulled away.

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