I was walking down the street late at night, minding my own business, carrying a bag in my right hand that held my leftover hamburger from the Burger Palace. It was a quiet night, and I felt like I was the only person out right now. Suddenly, I had an eerie feeling that someone was watching me. A chill ran down my spine, and I froze in my tracks. I looked around, but there was no one there.

I started to walk faster, my heart racing in my chest. I was sure someone was following me. I could sense a presence, but I couldn’t see anyone. I began to run, but it felt like no matter how fast I went, I could still feel their eyes on me, but I couldn’t tell where they were. I turned down a side street, trying to lose my pursuer. I kept glancing back, but I still couldn’t see anyone. I was panting, my breath coming in short gasps.

I was starting to think I was losing my mind. I had to keep running. Suddenly, I heard a faint noise, but when I glanced back, nobody was there. I am sure someone is following me. I picked up my pace, putting as much distance between me and my pursuer as possible. I was running with no destination in mind, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. I could barely think straight with how scared I was feeling right now.

After about 10–15 minutes of running, I reached Main Street, where I saw many people walking around. I felt a little safer, but the feeling of someone watching me was still there. I glanced around, but I couldn’t see anyone. “Gotta save myself,” I whisper. I ran faster than I had ever run before, and finally, I saw my home. It wasn’t until I got to my front door that I noticed I had a cut on my arm from scraping it on a wall while I was fleeing. The feeling of being watched intensified again, yet when I looked around, I couldn’t see anyone.

All of a sudden, I heard this tiny “meow!” I glanced down at the ground and saw this black and white, thin kitten who looked to be about six months old sitting at my feet. The kitten had these wide, bright blue eyes as it looked up at me before leaping at the bag in my hand. The bag fell from my hand, and out came my hamburger.

At that moment, I realized the kitten didn’t care about me. It was only following me because it wanted my food. I don’t care that it is eating my food; I’m just glad it got something to eat. I shake my head, and tears fall down my face as I slide to the ground.

(Author Note: Working title)