3: He’s Watching You

Tasha couldn't stop thinking about the man by the gate.

It had been two days since her sweet sixteen party, and yet his face haunted every quiet moment like the scent of old perfume, faint but unforgettable. She didn't even know his name, but somehow he'd known hers. His voice still echoed in her mind: "Happy birthday, Tasha."

She sat on the back verandah, sipping ginger tea from her "Drama Queen" mug, which Debby had given her as a joke last Christmas.

"You still dreaming 'bout Mr. Red Bimma?" Debby asked, dropping into the chair beside her and smacking her gum like it owed her money.

Tasha blinked. "What?"

Debby smirked. "Don't play innocent. I see the way you drift off every time you're sitting alone. You got that glazed donut look."

Tasha rolled her eyes, but heat crept up her neck. "I'm not dreaming about him. I just... it was weird, that's all. He knew my name."

"Maybe he's the Holy Spirit in disguise," Debby said, throwing her head back dramatically. "He did come to tell you he’s your destiny and he wants to whisk you off to heaven in his Red Bimma."

“I don't know why I bother with you.” Tasha snorted in her tea before she took a generous sip.

"I'm serious, Tash. That man looked like one of those vampire billionaires from those romance books you pretend not to read. You know, the kind with emotional trauma and a twelve-inch monster cocky."

Tasha spurted the tea out her mouth. “DEBBY! I rebuke you in the name of Jesus!” Tasha rested her cup on the patio table while she used a napkin to dab her shirt. “He didn't have a twelve-inch penis," Tasha mumbled.

"Oh, so you were looking?”

“No. Of course not. But nobody has that.”

“If you say so, little cousin.”

Tasha groaned and pushed Debby's shoulder. "Leave me alone."

Debby laughed, but her expression softened. "All jokes aside, maybe it's just your hormones, girl. Sixteen is a powerful age. Your womanhood is awakening and your little pumpum may just want some buddy now."

Tasha gave her cousin a look. "You sound like Miss Shirley from church. Next you gon' say I'm becoming a Proverbs 31 woman."

"Nope. I'm saying maybe that sexy man by the gate unlocked your spiritual Wi-Fi, and now you catching feelings on a metaphysical level."

"Debby!"

"What?" She shrugged. "It's poetic."

They both laughed, but Tasha couldn't deny the truth. That man, whoever he was had stirred something in her. And it wasn't just attraction. It was... recognition.

But from where?

She didn't know him. She had never seen him before that night.

And yet.

His eyes.

They burned into her memory like the red of dying embers. Calm. Commanding. As if they held secrets older than the hills of St. Andrew.

Tasha shook her head and stood up. "I'm going to shower. Maybe I can wash this madness off."

"Yeah, go cleanse your third eye while you at it."

Tasha threw a cushion at Debby on her way inside.

******

That night, the dreams started.

Tasha was running through a forest, barefoot, her nightgown torn and fluttering behind her like smoke. The trees were huge and twisted, their branches clawing at the moonlight. Something howled in the distance, and though it should have terrified her, it didn't. In fact, her heart leapt like she was chasing the sound.

Or maybe it was chasing her.

Red eyes blinked between the trees. A low growl rumbled like thunder in her bones. She tripped, falling into the underbrush, heart racing. The growl came again, closer now.

And then... she woke up in a cold sweat, chest heaving, sheets twisted around her like a straitjacket.

It was the third night in a row.

She sat up, wiping her forehead and glancing at the digital clock glowing 2:49 AM.

"Tasha?" Edith's voice called softly from the hallway.

"Yes, Mummy," she said, still catching her breath.

"You alright, baby?"

"Yeah," Tasha lied. "Just a bad dream."

Silence for a moment. "You want me to pray with you?"

Tasha hesitated. "No... I think I just need some water."

"Okay. If you need anything, I'm here."

Tasha waited until her mother's footsteps faded before she slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to the kitchen. The house was quiet except for the hum of the fridge. She poured a glass of water and leaned against the counter, staring out the window into the dark yard.

There was nothing but trees and night.

But her skin prickled with awareness.

Like something, or someone, was out there.

She pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart was still racing.

And deep in the back of her mind, something whispered: ‘He's watching you.’

******

The next morning, she told Debby about the dreams while they walked through the neighborhood to grab patties.

"Girl," Debby said, licking oxtail gravy from her fingers, "you sure this ain't just puberty mixed with dem spicy beef patties you love?"

"I'm serious," Tasha insisted. "I wake up feeling like I actually ran. My legs hurt. My heart's racing. And there's always those eyes."

Debby narrowed her gaze. "Red?"

"Yeah."

Debby stopped walking. "Okay, now that's spooky. Like... demon spooky. Maybe you need deliverance."

Tasha sighed. "Thanks for the support."

"I'm just saying, you messing around talking to strange white men who know your name and now you dreaming of glowing eyes in the forest. Sounds like the beginning of a N*****x horror movie."

Tasha looked down at her patty. Suddenly, she didn't feel hungry.

******

That night, the dream returned, but it changed.

She wasn't running anymore.

She was waiting.

In the middle of a clearing under a blood-red moon, she stood barefoot in a white gown. The wind howled around her, and then he emerged from the shadows.

Not a man. Not exactly.

A wolf the size of a horse, with black fur and eyes like molten rubies. He circled her slowly, his breath hot against her skin. And then, she heard the voice, not with her ears, but inside her mind.

‘You're mine, Tasha.’

She didn't run.

She didn't scream.

She simply whispered, "I know."