The Eyes

You know someone's watching,

You feel their eyes on your back.

The leaves crunch under someone's feet,

Moving in time with your own.

As you look back,

You see the two eyes.

Strange, red, catlike eyes watching,

Following where you run.

The eyes blink,

But the redness only darkens.

They watch from behind the owners' lids,

Another blink and they melt into the night.

The crunching fades away.

A dark shape moves into the darkness.

You run to the safety of home,

And close and lock the door.

But when you turn,

You look right into the eyes,

And its owner.

Note: I found this burried in a load of junk in our garage. I wrote this when I was nine when I had an obsession with buzzy looking eyes.