Unseen Eyes
905 Words
Ijeoma stood frozen for a few seconds, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen.
The message remained there, glowing softly like it had weight of its own.
“You are being watched more than you think.”
Her fingers tightened around the device.
For a moment, she didn’t even breathe properly.
The words didn’t just look like a message.
They felt like something spoken directly beside her ear.
Slowly, she locked her phone and lowered it.
But even with the screen off, the message stayed in her mind.
It refused to leave.
She looked up slowly.
The hallway around her was exactly the same as before.
Clean floor.
Bright lights.
Quiet atmosphere.
But something about it felt… different now.
Not because anything had changed.
But because she had changed the way she saw it.
Her eyes moved slowly across the corridor, as if expecting something to appear.
But there was nothing.
Still, the silence no longer felt normal.
It felt like it was waiting.
Ijeoma exhaled softly and forced herself to continue working.
She bent slightly and pushed the mop across the shiny floor.
The movement was familiar.
Safe.
Something she understood.
But her mind was far away.
It kept going back to the message.
You are being watched…
She frowned slightly.
“Who would even say something like this?” she whispered under her breath.
Her voice sounded small in the empty hallway.
Almost swallowed by the space around her.
As she turned the corner, she noticed two staff members standing near a water dispenser.
They were speaking quietly.
Their voices stopped the moment they saw her approach.
Too fast.
Too coordinated.
One of them gave a polite smile that didn’t reach their eyes.
The other simply looked away.
Ijeoma slowed her steps slightly as she passed them.
She could feel it.
Not words.
But attention.
The kind of attention people try to hide.
Her grip tightened on the mop handle.
She walked past them without looking back.
But her thoughts were already racing.
Something was happening.
She just didn’t know what.
And that was what made it worse.
Upstairs, Chelsea sat in her office, scrolling through her phone.
Her expression was calm, but her eyes were focused.
She wasn’t distracted.
She was studying.
A report had been sent to her earlier.
Simple details.
Background.
History.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing impressive.
Just a girl trying to survive.
Chelsea leaned back slightly in her chair and exhaled.
“So why,” she said softly to herself, “does this feel like more than that?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Something about the situation was irritating her.
Not because of what she knew.
But because of what she didn’t.
Downstairs, Ijeoma continued her work quietly.
But now, every sound around her felt louder than before.
Footsteps echoed more clearly.
Voices seemed closer.
Even the air felt heavier.
She paused for a moment and pressed her hand lightly against her chest.
Her heart was steady.
But her mind was not.
“I need to focus,” she told herself.
“I need this job.”
Slowly, she continued cleaning.
But the uneasiness did not leave her.
At that moment, the atmosphere in the building shifted.
Workers straightened their posture.
Conversations lowered.
Even movement became more controlled.
Akachukwu had entered the building.
Ijeoma didn’t notice him at first.
She was focused on cleaning a section near the corridor wall.
But then—
A shadow appeared on the floor beside her.
She paused.
Slowly, she looked up.
And there he was.
Standing a few steps away.
Watching her.
Not speaking.
Not moving.
Just observing quietly.
Ijeoma quickly lowered her gaze.
“Good afternoon sir,” she said politely.
“Afternoon,” he replied.
There was a short silence.
But it wasn’t empty.
It felt full of something unspoken.
Ijeoma waited for him to leave.
But he didn’t immediately.
Instead, his eyes briefly moved around the corridor, then back to her.
“You are doing well,” he said finally.
Ijeoma blinked slightly.
“I’m trying my best, sir.”
Another pause followed.
Then he nodded once.
“Good.”
And then he walked away.
Even after he left, Ijeoma remained still for a moment.
Her hand rested on the mop handle.
But her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Why did that moment feel different?
Why did it feel like he wasn’t just checking her work?
Like he was… noticing her?
She shook her head slightly.
“No,” she whispered.
“This is just work.”
But even as she said it, her mind didn’t fully agree.
That night, after returning to her small room, exhaustion pulled heavily at her body.
She sat on the edge of the bed slowly.
The silence in her room felt different from the silence at work.
This one felt personal.
Closer.
She reached for her phone.
And hesitated for a moment before turning it on.
The screen lit up.
Another message appeared.
Unknown number.
Her breath slowed.
She didn’t open it immediately.
For a few seconds, she just stared at it.
Then slowly, she tapped it.
“You are getting closer to something you shouldn’t see.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
Her fingers froze.
And for the first time since all this began…
She didn’t whisper.
She didn’t speak.
She simply sat there.
Staring.
Trying to understand what was happening to her life.
But the more she tried…
The less it made sense.
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