I keep seeing a woman in the corner of my eye

Can you see her?
I couldn?t either until a few weeks ago...
As a kid a kid I used to think there was something special about me. I actually thought I had a superpower.
?I can see things on the edge of my eyes,? I?d told my dad once on the way back from the park. It seems insignificant, I know, but we lived near an army base and I'd caught my first fleeting glimpse of a tank crossing the country roads so something about the memory has stuck.
My dad was the type of guy who'd treat you like an Olympic medallist for eating the crusts on your sandwich so it was no surprise he'd reacted with feigned amazement. I guess he didn?t want to dampen my spirits; growing up does enough of that. Eventually we'd learned about sight at school and with the flick of a textbook page the magic was gone. On occasion I might glimpse a note being passed in class or spot Ralph, our dog, chewing a chair leg, but save for these few instances anything I noticed in the corner of my eye was trivial. I no longer considered the edges of my vision to bear much importance.
That was until I received the message.
Tommy had always just been 'some guy from school' to me. Sure, I could point him out in a lineup, but I couldn?t tell you a single thing about him. We took different classes and left for neighbouring colleges, so any interactions between us were limited to polite smiles in the hall.
When a ?friend? like that messages out of the blue your mind begins to scramble for a reason.
At first I thought it was a prank as he still knocked about with some of the guys I'd had beef with. Then the thought crossed my mind that it might just be another chain mail, you know the ones I mean: ?pass this on or you?ll see dead children at 3am.? The lack of context or explanation for his words had left me scratching my head, yet despite my confusion I couldn't stop myself from feeling that something was off.
I just didn?t know how off.
*
That night I'd idled through my evening routine. With my skin raw from being exfoliated, I'd leaned down to rinse off whilst the words from his message loomed large in my mind.
I didn't get chance to straighten up before I saw it. A dark outline of someone standing just out of sight had appeared to my left.
Instinctively I flinched away and scrunched my eyes shut. You just leaned down too fast, I tried to reason with myself, but it wasn't enough to quell the pounding in my chest. The... thing had seemed so close.
When finally I opened my eyes my own reflection made me jump. There I was, dripping in the mirror, with nothing but an aloe plant behind me.
My house felt a little different after that moment in the bathroom. I didn't struggle to sleep, nor did I feel particularly unsafe, I just felt uneasy. I continued to convince myself that I'd simply suffered from leaning over too quick, and as the days passed without another episode that notion began to solidify in my mind.
A few nights later I was slicing the garlic when I saw it again.
A blink was all it had taken for it to appear: a shapeless blur on the periphery of my vision. The air didn't suddenly chill nor did I feel the unease of being watched, her appearance was as sudden as an earthquake. Stranger still, without reason or explanation I knew instantly that this thing beside me was a she. I wanted to believe it was all part of my imagination, that I was a victim of the tricks played by an empty house, but I was as sure of this as I was of my own name.
Curiosity began to creep through my mind. Who was she?
I thought I should turn my head, just to catch a better glimpse. I knew she wanted me to.
It was the sharp sting of metal slicing through flesh that brought me back to reality.
*
Her visits became more frequent. I'd soon seen her in every room of the house. Each time was the same, a black shape lingering on the edge of my vision; whether she was a shadow or simply draped in strands of matted, black hair I wasn't sure. With each visit it took every ounce of my will to never look her way. I convinced myself that leaving might help me to escape her and it did work for a while. Then I caught a glimpse of her in the milk aisle of my local store.
My apparent insanity didn't go unnoticed. I would flinch and squirm in the middle of meetings, then clasp my hands over my eyes in terror whilst at a restaurant. Whenever someone asked I told them I was fine, that I just had a twitch or a migraine. I wasn?t wasting my breath on a truth no one would believe.
I traded sleep for time to plot ways to make her leave, but understanding the consequences of the cure just made me struggle to rest even more. Four words were all it had taken to bring her into my life...
Exhaustion quickly overwhelmed me as I asked myself the same questions over and over and over...
Why did Tommy do this to me? If I?d made an effort to befriend him all those years ago, would I be living free of her stare now?
It wasn?t until a few hours ago that I decided this needed to end, no matter the consequences. With eyes heavy from sleepless nights I'd made the mistake of driving home from work. Not even ten minutes into the journey she was there, staring from the passenger seat.
I couldn?t look. I wouldn?t look.
But I couldn?t focus either.
I missed the kid by an inch...
*
I don't know how I knew the cure. I guess I knew it the same way I'd known 'it' was a she.
Four words were all she'd needed. With those four words I'd spared her the faintest thought, and she'd used that opportunity to worm her way into my life. Just four words were what brought Tommy his freedom, and now they could bring mine...
Can you see her?
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--- UPDATE ---
I saw the news on Facebook.
Tommy?s body was found yesterday.
I'd trawled the internet for any kind of update, but none of the local outlets were reporting on his death, though that didn't matter much. You rarely need the news these days, particularly when you live in such a small community. Not even an hour had passed before the rumour popped into my inbox. I saw it once, then twice, until eventually each scroll and click revealed the same story.
Tommy had died from loss of blood.
He'd thought those four words would set him free. I thought those words would set us free. But he wouldn't have done what he did if he was free. He wouldn't have been driven to this if she was gone...
Tommy had died from loss of blood because last night, in one final desperate attempt for peace, he'd tried to make sure he could no longer see.


Source.