Somebody's Watching Me Meaning Novels & Stories

I felt like I was being watched. Brushing off the feeling, I reached for the TV remote, hoping to find solace in a mindless show. But as I turned it on, the screen remained blank, and a strange message appeared in bold red letters: "I'm always watching, Anna. You can't hide from me."

Being attentive of her surroundings. Lately, she has been feeling that again. That someone was watching her from afar, but she can’t seem to figure out who the person is nor can she pinpoint the exact location of that person. All she knows is that someone was watching her from a distance and that made her think that something will happen soon. After all, this is not the first time that this happened, and when it does, something bad always happens after.

Watching and waiting. . . . Watching and waiting.

Couldn't he be the reason I'm upset? Why is he watching over me? It makes me feel I don't have my privacy. It was as if someone was always watching me and watching over me to stop me from doing what I wanted to do. He was just in front of me before but suddenly disappeared. I didn't shout or panicked because of what happened. That's because I think he is harmless. He is my guardian angel.

The air tasted sweet and fresh in the air, as if the earth itself was breathing a sigh of relief at my departure from here, but this didn’t stop the panic rising inside me. Someone’s watching me. I can feel them. Their presence looms overhead . They're waiting for something to happen. What is it? What do they want? Are they trying to scare me?

he countered, leaning in again. “Mason…” I sighed, feeling unsettled about being watched. I felt someone watching us, more intensely than anyone else. Most people just glanced and moved along. Sure I felt their disdain for being a meta-human. But this feeling, this was someone staring, and I could practically taste anger. “We’re being watched, and not in a good way. It's not safe here.” I whisper, keeping my eyes focused on him.

Watching me. Our eyes met. His grin cut the darkness. He knew I’d seen him. I stumbled back. My phone buzzed: “He’s watching. He never stopped.

Someone is watching me. You know that eerie sensation of being under surveillance? It's been haunting me all week, during my walks to school, at work, in the library, and even now as I make my way home from my job. It might sound crazy, but I'm convinced I'm not imagining it. That feeling of being watched is unmistakable. As I step into the two-bedroom apartment I share with my friend, I quickly lock the door and rub the goosebumps on my upper arm.

But he kept glancing back, checking on me, making sure I was still there, making sure I was still breathing, making sure I was still real. "You are staring," I called. "I am watching," he said. "There is a difference. I am watching for threats. I am watching for danger. I am watching for anything that might try to take you from us again. And I will kill anything that tries. I will tear it apart with my bare hands."

For a brief moment, the strange sensation creeps back up my spine. That same feeling. Like someone is watching me.