This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/witch-plz on 2024-09-13 22:33:55+00:00.

For context, I’m a single, paranoid 22-year-old woman living in a small city. A lot of ladies out there will know the drill - I walk home from parties with my keys clenched between my fingers, scanning the street like I’m in a crime drama. I’ve always been cautious (borderline neurotic), but lately, something’s been different and it’s hard to describe. It’s like someone’s been walking behind me, but it doesn’t feel creepy. It’s more like… they’re just there.

It started about a week ago - I had my headphones in, music low, and I was walking through the park like I usually do. Everything felt normal until I noticed the footsteps. These were slightly out of sync with my own walk, just enough that it couldn’t be my echo.

Naturally, I glanced around… and found nothing. The path was empty. Just trees, streetlights, and silence. I tried to brush it off as my imagination or paranoia, but something continued to just feel off. The air seemed heavier and the shadows around me darker and thicker.

Sometimes the dark can play tricks on you. I told myself I was overreacting. But then it happened again the next night… That same feeling of somebody following me just out of sight. I’d turn around, and of course, there was nothing out of the ordinary there. But the footsteps never stopped. They kept pace with mine… always right behind me.

And I know what you’re thinking - any rational person would call a taxi or pick another route home, right? I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t. There was something about it that felt… almost innocent? Maybe even comforting, if that makes any sense.

One night, though, I decided to test it. I sped up. So did the footsteps. The faster I walked, the faster they got and suddenly I’m running to my flat, slamming the door shut behind me.

And that’s when I heard it.

A voice. Faint, muffled, like it was coming from just outside my door. But I swear I heard it say, “I followed you home.”

I didn’t open the door. Not until morning, when I had to leave for work. By then, I convinced myself I’d imagined it. Stress, maybe. Lack of sleep.

But the footsteps didn’t stop. That night, they were back, but they weren’t in a hurry. They just followed me, steady and quiet, like a shadow. And when I stopped at my door, I heard it again. The same soft voice, closer this time.

“I followed you home.”

Weirdly enough, I started getting used to it. I know how that sounds, but it never tried to hurt me and it wasn’t threatening… it just… wanted to be there, maybe? Some nights, I’d even talk to it absent-mindedly. Just a quiet whisper here and there… it was like I wasn’t walking home alone anymore. It didn’t respond, but I could hear it, shifting, like it was listening.

Last night, something changed. I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling it. Not just the presence, but something else. Warmer. Closer. I could hear breathing… soft, steady… right by my bed. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel.

This time, when I asked, “What do you want?” it answered.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why it chose me, or how long it’s been there, following me. But whatever it is, it doesn’t feel dangerous. It’s just… there, like it’s been waiting for someone to notice. Someone to let it stay.

And I guess, in a way, I have.