If we're doing horror stories.
My dad has a mask he keeps in the living room. It's always creeped me out. It was made to resemble a jester with long curled triangles lined with wire coming out the top of the mask. At the end of each one a jingle bell. The mask itself was black and gold covered in glitter with an intricate design.
It had a permanent smile on it's face and everytime I saw it I couldn't help the feeling that it was... staring at me. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why my dad keeps that thing around, but to each his own, I guess. I just try not to think about it when I visit. Try to ignore the feeling of being watched as I sleep. Try to ignore the chill I get everytime I look at it. I pretend it's not there.
This time when I came to visit... the mask was gone. I asked my dad, he said it went missing. He's not sure how it disappeared, but I, for one, was extremely relieved to finally have that thing out of my face. Good riddance, I say. I would finally have a peaceful night of sleep without that thing staring at me.
As I set up on the couch, ready to head to sleep... my relief about the mask quickly disappeared. The second my eyes were closed... I heard it. A faint sound... of jingle bells. And the feeling of being watched. Yet the mask was nowhere to be seen.
I'm not sure if this is better... or worse.
One thing's for sure, ever since then... that damn mask has followed me everywhere I go. Even in my own home I hear it...
I hear those damn bells. Everywhere.