Visitors, pt. 2

Not again. Another morning exhausted. Another night unremembered. They must have known I would be waiting. They came earlier than usual. I don’t even remember going to bed. The last thing I remember was cooking in my kitchen. This morning, the mess was still there. I never leave the mess, even if I’m tired.
I’ve started to believe I’ll never catch them, but I keep trying. That’s all I have anymore. I can’t do anything else. They’ve destroyed my body and my mind. I’m falling apart. I sit at my desk at work, and I’m present physically. But all I can think of is them. I wonder if they’re here, disguised as my coworkers, observing me. By now, I’m sure they’re experts on my life and behaviors. I know they see me even when I’m awake. I’ll catch a stranger looking at me, and I just know it’s one of them. There’s something dull and lifeless about them. Not just their eyes. Their entire being is just… gray.
Even now I feel them watching me. There’s a new receptionist today, and I’m certain she’s one of them. She keeps glancing over here. She makes an attempt to smile, but these creatures can only mimic human emotion. Every gesture is hollow.
I need a break. Just a minute to myself, away from the eyes. The bathroom. Semi-private at least. I hide in the stall. I don’t even have to go. I sit there just to be alone.
But not for long. Someone else comes in. I don’t want to see anyone so I wait for her to leave. I hear her go through the motions. Flush, exit stall, wash hands, open door. I listen for another moment just to be sure. When I’m certain she’s gone, I leave my stall. But there she is. Didn’t leave at all. She stares at me for a moment. I stare back, knowing exactly what she is.
As I look at her face, though, I realize she’s not what I thought. She looks gentle and kind. I’d forgotten what that looks like on a person’s face. In fact, she looks concerned.
“Are you okay?” she asks. Am I okay? No one’s asked me that since they started visiting. I realize I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m okay.