Being Watched

Jenna Lawrence | Managing Editor

Image from Envato by Michelangeloop

The passenger at the front of the train has been staring at me the entire ride. I’ve had my nose in my book, The Stranger by Albert Camus, since I got on two hours ago, and that person has not looked away since. I tried looking out the window at the Alps to try to distract myself from my stalker. But the glare from the sun is so bad, the only thing I can see is my bald head and thick glasses in the reflection. I keep my gaze low and in front of me as I turn my head back to my book, trying not to give that passenger any attention. Thing is, I can’t remember when they got on, or if they were sitting there when I boarded.

We’re on the Glacier Express, going from Zermatt to St Moritz. Six more hours to be watched, I guess. I’m afraid to look up at the person staring at me. I don’t even know whether it’s a man or a woman; I can just feel their eyes wide open, and their body turned a complete 180 in their seat. Without looking directly at them, I can see that they haven’t blinked once. Not one single time. And what’s worse is that no one behind me is talking to each other. It seems we’re all lone riders in this cabin. Are the people behind me staring, too?