Do you know that feeling when you’re aware something is out of place? That uneasiness of something that to anyone else would seem normal. Things that seem wrong only to you? If you don’t, let me paint the picture with something that happened thirty minutes ago.
I am constantly on the move with my equipment, going from place to place with my laptop and a few gadgets that help me with my workflow. I have gotten so used to always disconnecting everything and reconnecting on the next place that it has become a habit even within my house. I take my laptop from my desktop to my bed to watch a movie or TV series when I’m clocked out, this makes it so I leave everything on the table, with the cables waiting for the laptop to connect to. Well, this morning, I woke up and did my usual routine, I took my laptop to my desktop and found everything seemingly normal, all but one thing.
Now, what I am about to tell you may make me look insane just because of how uninteresting it will seem. One of my USB cables was oriented the wrong way; it only has two possible ways to connect and every time I leave it on its own, it’s always upside down, but not today.
Waking up and doing everything the way I have done hundreds of times before and finding something out of place took me out.
You see, last night I was feeling something unusual, generally I leave my door wide open so my cats can come in and out as they please, but that night I felt like I needed to lock it as I was unusually scared. It was not a panic kind of fear, it was not imminent fear of anything in particular. I just felt uneasy.
Since everything went normal throughout the night, I felt better in the morning. However, my door remained locked.
When I realized something was wrong, I froze, it was just a second, but I am sure it was enough for it to realize that I knew, I knew it was watching, I knew it had been going around my room last night; it had been careful not to leave any signs, but I knew because of that cable. I sat down and did my best to pretend to not be unable to move or think.
I had to sit there for about thirty minutes, writing something that would make it look like I was not aware that it was there, something that would make me look busy and like I was going about my day as usual. Something that would not alert ‘it’ that I had been asking for help, begging that anyone reading would act quick enough, understand that I wasn’t safe, that I was terrified.
I could do nothing but think. What did it want from me? Why had it chosen me? These questions only intensified my anxiety. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside my window, sent shivers down my spine.
The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the sound of my own shallow breaths. I dare not make a move or exhibit any sign of distress, I know that any misstep could provoke a response from ‘it’.