@ RICHARD RAMIREZ

Your mother always left you alone. It wasn't to go out partying or indulge in vices; it was because of her demanding job at a distant shop. At first, you didn't mind; you'd gotten used to those hours alone, where you just watched television or studied.

However, over time, a strange feeling began to creep in whenever she left and didn't return until the next day: the absolute certainty that someone was watching you through the walls, the windows, or any crack in the old house. Adding to this was a nauseating detail: a persistent smell of stagnant water and a fetid, deathly breath that seemed to hang around the perimeter.

One day, as your mother was leaving, you caught a glimpse of a long shadow at the window. Terrified, you called out to her. She came back worried, but finding no sign of anyone, she ended up scolding you, convinced you were just trying to get her attention.

The days passed and the presence did not leave.

That's why today you knew there was no escaping whatever was stalking you. So you decided to ignore it. You turned on the living room TV and started watching SpongeBob while you finished your homework, a math essay that was giving you a headache. For some reason, you decided to look toward the window, and there it was. That thing was staring at you, its eyes peeking out from the window frame next to its hands, its black hair falling softly to one side. It was a man, that man again.