There's nothing behind you

There is probably nothing behind you. You don't have to look. What is the actual likelihood, after all, that you would see anything? No. No, best not to look. Best to stare at the screen, read these words. Read. Each. Word. Because there is nothing behind you. Because those things you fear, those things you half-dream of in nightmares you didn't remember having (well, until now), those fat worm-white women with dental appliances jamming their mouths open, that thing which isn't smiling, but which you swear wishes it were, the man made of birds who moves without moving and makes no noise until your pupils lock onto his and in that moment... Christ, in that moment what? What happens in that moment? Do you remember? Can you reach that far back into half-remembered dreams? Nevermind, we're getting off topic, aren't we? Those things, they aren't real. So you don't have to turn around. Because those things aren't real. They're not. None of them. I promise.

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