The Watchers

Like a thousand tiny eyes they watch each of us. Their eyes press against the glass peering through every open crack between the curtains, every open slit between the blinds. They look through the key holes and under the doors. They never enter and they never touch. There are rules about such things.

Howard celebrates his fortieth birthday today. The big four-oh!! He celebrates alone in his house. He blows out the candles, cuts a slice for himself, and eats it in front of the television. He sets down his plate and says, "Happy birthday to me ..... two days ago."

Howard is most comfortable at home where he is secure from the Watchers. This is why he waited for two days before celebrating his birthday. Howard meticulously inspects every crack and crevice every time he returns home from business. The Watchers can not see him here.

Howard watches the news. The news makes him sleepy, and he can't go to bed without watching it. As he's drifting off, he hears the anchorman signing off, "Thanks for watching Eyewitness News 11 at 11, and remember to tune in tomorrow night. Goodnight Howard."

Howard jerks awake. Did the news man just say "Goodnight Howard?" Howard rushes to the television and turns it off. He stands there nervously looking at it and wondering if anything is looking back at him. He unplugs the set, but his nervousness doesn't abate. He turns it screen-side down on the floor and covers it with a blanket. That feels somewhat better.

Howard can't shake the feeling that he's being watched. He opens the curtains and checks the dark plastic over the window for pin holes or tears. Nothing!! He checks the duct tape that secures the plastic to the wall around the window. Nothing. He closes the curtains and goes to bed.

When he goes into his room, he hears a voice say his name. It's almost imperceptible, but he knows that it's real. He grabs the portable tv set yanking the plug out of the wall. He throws it into his closet. As he slams the door closed, he hears glass crack.

His head reflexively jerks toward the window. He assures himself that it was just the screen on the tv that cracked. He runs to the bathroom and gets some towels. He lines the bottom of the closet door with the towels. He hears several voices call his name. His hands are shaking.

Howard grabs the spread off of the bed and runs into the hallway and gets the hammer and some nails from the utility closet. He nails the spread over the closet door and the voices subside. He sets the hammer down on the bedside table, undresses, and climbs into bed.

He lays there for several minutes trying to calm down. His eyes start to flutter signaling sleep. Then Howard hears a hundred voices calling his name. Every time he hears his name there are more voices than before. He reaches out and takes the hammer and holds it close to him. Howard feels like crying or yelling at the voices to stop. His body shivers over and over. Tears run down his face. The voices are in the thousands now.

The chorus of voices is getting louder. They call his name again and again. He can feel their eyes looking at him though he knows that there's no way they could see him.

The tears are flowing freely and his nose starts to run. Howard tries to sniff it back up, but doing so forces a couple of audible whimpers out of him. He has his eyes pressed closed as tight as he can press them and he meekly cries out, "go away."

He can feel a pair of eyes staring intently at him. The eyes are close. The voices are loud and their numbers too great to estimate. Howard lunges from the bed and swings the hammer wildly into the darkness.

To Howard's terror, the hammer doesn't fly through empty air. It hits something solid with a heavy thud. Not something hard with a crash, but something solid, something meaty. A thick mist hits him in the face and the voices go silent.

Trembling more than ever, Howard finds the light and flicks it on. Lying on the floor is a large muscular man with at least 100 pounds on Howard. There is a butcher knife on the floor near his left hand. His right hand clutches at the wound on his neck with the hammer solidly embedded in it, claw-end first. His left hand finds the knife and there is new life in the eyes of the man. Blood is spreading like spilled milk around the stranger's head. The man tries to say something, but only coughs up more blood. His eyes close, and he
releases his knife. His left hand falls away from his neck.

Howard pulls the plastic off of the bedroom window. He calls 911 and reports that he killed an intruder in his house. Howard is just getting the last of the plastic off of all of the windows when he hears the police siren coming up his street. It's followed close behind by an ambulance siren. The ambulance will be useless of course.

When the police leave, after the coroner takes away the body, Howard goes to bed in the guest bedroom. He opens the curtains and gets into bed. He looks at the exposed window and says, "Goodnight. And thanks for watching out for me."

Reviews

[Sound]

This was a very interesting read. I can't say I know what to make of it, only that I really enjoyed reading it. The only bad part was that it ended and I didn't get to find out what is going on here and who The Watcher's are. Very nice job.