Open Up Your Eyes

He was sitting in anguish from the ongoing drone of his teacher’s voice as she talked about the wonders of math with the most monotonous voice Jack had ever heard. The adolescent hated algebra with every fiber of his being. The fifteen-year-old would probably be pretty successful at algebra if he’d paid attention during moments like these where he should be listening to the agonizingly boring words of the teacher while writing notes like an A plus student instead of doodling and vandalizing his desk like a hooligan, but of course that required too much effort for Jack. His attention span wasn’t qualified or even slightly abundant enough to pay a bit of attention to anything happening around him, that’s why he almost completely missed the chilling feeling of being watched. Almost.

At first he brushed it off as him simply being checked out by the girl just behind him because the cocky young teenager was just now coming out of that awkward puberty stage where he was stuck between half-child half-teenager and was finally becoming one of those actually handsome kids in his class that girls were kind of swooned over even if Jack’s body was lanky and he was slightly clumsy. It was in that cute way, though, the one that reminded you of a new born foal on wobbly legs, and the innocence mixed with a charming and amusing personality certainly had all the girls practically begging for more. Though, Jack was only fifteen –still a virgin –he was always one to brag about how girls practically threw themselves at him –he being the first of their class to grow to a whopping six foot over the summer. Somehow, height had given him confidence and arrogance.

But even with this newly gained conceited ego he carried he wasn’t shaking the bone chilling feeling that he was being stared at. The eyes, the anonymous pair that were boring holes into his skin –raking up and down his stalky body like he was an object to behold –the ones that were causing him to become tense and distressed, were somewhere in that very class and Jack attended to find out just where. He whipped around –his own eyes squinting into a glare at the girl behind him who looked up with the sudden jerk Jack had caused her desk to make thus causing her hand to slip and pen to slash across her paper, ruining her writing all together –and hissed, “Stop staring at me.”

The girl scoffed, her clutched pen being dropped to her paper and splattering more ink across the page as she jeered, “I wasn’t even looking at you, you big weirdo! You’re the one who turned around and started looking at me!” Her hand reached up to brush her black hair that draped over her forehead from her eyes –bright blue irises turning an annoyed gray –as she barked, “Turn around, idiot! I’m not staring at you!”

Jack –earnestly puzzled –turned back around slowly, his eyebrows drawn together as he considered what the girl had said, unsure he should believe the raven-haired teen because if it wasn’t her, then who was it? Who else would be staring at him so attentively? Jack tried to pinpoint where the eyes were coming from, but the feeling of them scrutinizing him had completely vanished. He slowly turned his head to look at the girl from the corner of his eye, annoyingly seeing her writing in her journal. He –figuring he had enough proof to satisfy himself now since obviously the staring had come from the black-haired girl if it was no longer present as he watched her return to her work –smiled smugly and turned back to his doodles, finding pleasure in drawing symbols and scribbling lyrics for the next poor soul forced to sit in his very seat and endure through the wretched class just as he had to.

Not but thirty seconds after he had turned around and his nerves had been settled he felt eyes on him once again –the same awfully acute and wicked pair of eyes that were forcing him into another frustrated and awkward cringe as he whisked back around, this time doing so just in time to see the girl still looking down at her paperwork. Her hand froze at the feeling of Jack’s quick jerk as she let out an exasperated sigh and looked up at him slowly. The Lebanese boy –though knowing now it couldn’t be the poor girl behind him because he had literally just caught her not staring at him –sneered out, “I said fucking stop.”

Really, the only reason he was being so rude to the girl was because he couldn’t explain who was staring at him himself and his only weapon of defense was to blame the black-haired girl behind him, her being the obvious and closest target, but if he’d just think rationally he’d know it couldn’t possibly be her. Her face retorted into an unamused and irritated look, her fingers reaching out to flick the boy’s nose while growling, “I told you –it’s not me. Now leave me alone.”

Jack, after sticking his tongue out at the girl rather maturely, rubbed his nose as he muttered under his breath, “I would, if you’d stop staring at me, bitch.” As he tried desperately to mentally tell himself she was just trying to annoy him, just trying to make him feel uncomfortable and tease him. It was a big joke. That’s what he told himself.

As Jack turned around it was almost instantaneous that the spine tingling stare he had been feeling before came right back. This time he paid special attention to it, getting an improbable feel as to where the stare just might be coming from. It surely had to be coming from somewhere and though Jack’s senses told him it was absolutely from behind him, the other half of his mind told him it was coming from everywhere.

He knew it wasn’t possible. How could it be possible? It was one person. He, much slower than the first two times, turned around and skimmed across the room, trying desperately to find the sick owner of the agonizingly eerie stare only to see everyone, save a few kids who were asleep or almost asleep, hard at work and not one pair of eyes looking anywhere near him. He felt like an idiot to see everyone working silently, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of the stare still being on him, still seemingly binding him to his mission to find the culprit. His eyes searched frantically, his body trembling in fear as a chill ran up his spine and caused goose bumps to rise on his chalky skin because the stare was still gazing over him. His body seemed to freeze then, save the quivering of fright as he ogled into space, staring into an oblivion of questions.

Who is staring at me?

Why are they staring at me?

Where are they?

Why can’t I see them?

Why aren’t they stopping?

Questions swarmed his mind like bees as he slowly and reluctantly turned back around, his body slumping in disappointment as he did. The gaze was still being held over him making him feel exposed and vulnerable. He was truly terrified of this unnamed, unmasked being watching him from wherever in the hell they may be. His body and skin became uncomfortable, his mind racing with frantic, distressed thoughts while whoever was staring seemed to be quite pleased they had made him so panicked and on edge. Jack could feel their smugness from wherever they were, as if taunting him because he most obviously couldn’t find them.

Jack felt sick then. His stomach churned just at the thought of whomever sick, wicked kind of person would torment him like that.

Just ten more minutes until the bell and then you can get the hell out of here and never have to deal with this again. He told himself firmly, as if running away from this class would stop them from staring at him or would give him an advantage somehow. The gaze continued to observe him from their hiding place –Jack’s entire body feeling disgusting, like not even a shower could cleanse him from the feeling of pure evil from the stare. Whoever was doing this to him was sinister, so much so that Jack felt as if he was a bad person for having caught the attention of them.

When the bell finally did ring, though, Jack was, despite his reassurance to himself, still being watched. The stare was everywhere. It was from all directions, all over his body. He began speeding up his pace, telling himself once again it’d go away if he’d just get to his locker. Once again the stare was bore into his skin, staining him in a thick coat of darkness and chills he wasn’t able to be rid of ever. He slammed his locker shut only to see his best friend, Alex Gaskarth, standing right beside him –successfully causing him to jump out of his skin and yelp in shock.

He placed a hand over his rapidly beating heart as his friend watched with an amused smile, giggling at the taller boy as he panted, “Don’t scare me like that! I’m already freakin’ out, dude!”

Alex’s smile dropped at that –a concerned look crossing his face as he asked, “Why, Jay?”

Jack glanced around, as if whoever was watching him was eaves dropping and would attack him if he so much as mentioned what has been happening to him recently, and whispered, “I know you’re going to say I’m just paranoid, but I swear to god someone has been watching me since last hour. I can feel them staring, Alex.” He stressed.

And the weirdest, the absolutely weirdest thing happened. Alex looked as if he believed him. His hair draped over his face as he looked down momentarily in thought, humming quietly, his dark eyes becoming obscure under the toffee-colored hair and his once serious face twisting –distorting –into a deranged smile that crawled across his usually so calm, so normal face, as he breathed, “Maybe it was that girl that sits behind you in first hour.”

Jack stared at the boy in disbelief. He and Alex didn't have any classes together. Not one.