This is a Herald Highlight, a special episode of the Innis Herald Podcast.

I quickly learned the unspoken rules of the big city:

Keep your head down, and don’t talk to strangers on the street. In fact, don’t even make eye contact with strangers; you never know who will take that as a threat or challenge. But I wanted to see if this was for good reason, or if I was just being paranoid.

As I walked down one of the busier streets, I decided to break the rules. My heart raced and my breath quickened at the idea. Every fibre of my being screamed that I shouldn’t, but I lifted my chin, straightened my shoulders, and made direct eye contact with someone walking towards me, smiling wide. 

Their eyebrows furrowed in confusion, they looked behind them, and upon seeing nobody else I could be smiling at, looked away and walked faster as they passed me.

A shiver ran down my spine as they left my field of view, and I could swear I heard their footsteps turn to follow me, hitting the concrete right behind mine. Every little breeze felt like a breath on the back of my neck. Of course there would be footsteps — it was a sidewalk. I checked behind me, and when I couldn’t see anyone following me, a quiet sigh of relief escaped me. Despite my relief, I could still feel the footsteps following mine.

After a minute or two, I saw a family with a young child walking towards me, so I leaned forward and waved to the kid, smiling as they approached. One parent moved so they were between the child and me, walking quicker while glaring at me as though I’d told the child everyone they knew would eventually die. Even after they passed, I could feel that glare, the eyes piercing into the back of my head, adding to the panic I was already feeling from the footsteps.

I whipped around and looked behind me. There was nobody there. Yet I was still being watched. Turning in every direction, I searched for whoever or whatever was watching me. Wherever I looked, people would look away as if eye contact would kill them. Everywhere all around me, were eyes, watching me. 

People, cameras, pigeons, cars, bikes, phones, even the flattened pieces of gum on the sidewalk started watching me.

I couldn’t take it. Everywhere that the eyes fell on me, I could feel my skin crawl, as if earwigs had climbed up my legs inside my clothes, burrowed through my pores, and were trying to escape from under my skin. I tried to scratch it away, desperately. Parents covered the eyes of children and people walked wide circles to avoid me. I knew it was these people who were looking at me, staring even. The eyes pierced into me from every direction, yet I still couldn’t figure out where I was being watched from. It was from everywhere and nowhere all at once. I felt it. Being watched. Being judged. Being laughed at. Being whispered about. 

“I’M NOT CRAZY! JUST STOP STARING AT ME AND SAY HELLO PLEASE!”

I screamed out, my whole body shaking. Everyone on the sidewalk stopped and turned to me, staring from all directions. The pressure of their eyes on me built up inside my skull, and I started to hear my blood pumping through my veins. The concrete hit my knees before I even realised I had fallen. From the ground, I still felt those infernal eyes watching, people still staring. The pressure of tears behind my eyes made me remember. Eyes, of course, eyes. I shut my eyes as hard as I could, weeping into my open palms as the pressure grew, pounding at the inside of my skull, trying to get out. But the people kept staring. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them getting closer and closer, their eyes stabbing me like daggers.

“PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! STOP STARING! PLEASE HAVE SOME DECENCY AND LOOK AWAY!”

I screamed, sobbing loudly, though my pleas for mercy angered them. The pressure in my head increased tenfold. Unable to handle the pain, I pushed my thumbs into my eye sockets, the soft, delicate eyeballs started to squish. The pain from my eyes was nothing in comparison to that damned staring. My eyes finally popped under my thumbs as I slammed my forehead down onto my fists, puncturing the eyes with my thumbs. I could not rejoice, because as I died, my body was being watched.