If you find this notebook, don’t go near the holes.

I’m writing this because I don’t know how much of me is left.

My name was… Ria.

If I start acting strange, please remember this: I used to blink normally. Now I don’t.

Because the viewers don’t blink.

We moved yesterday — me and my younger brother, Dev.

New apartment. Cheap rent. Too cheap.

The landlord smiled too much when he handed us the keys.

 “If you see anything unusual,” he said,

“Just don’t stare at it too long.”

I laughed. Dev didn’t.

The place looks normal.

Two bedrooms. A narrow hallway. Damp walls.

But…

That feeling.

Every time I walk from the kitchen to my room, my spine tightens.

Like someone is walking behind me.

Breathing behind me.

Watching me from somewhere inside the walls.

I told Dev.

He only said:

 “Don’t worry, Di. They’re harmless. They only watch.”

They?

Tonight, Dev called me to his room.

He pointed at a tiny hole near the floor.

Barely a needle-point.

 “It’s looking at me,” he whispered.

I leaned close.

Was it light reflection?

Or… was something shifting inside?

I felt a cold breath on my eye.

I stepped back immediately.

I told Dev to sleep in my room for the night.

He didn’t.

He sat in front of the hole… staring.

Dev hasn’t gone to school.

Hasn’t eaten.

He sits in front of the hole for hours.

Every day the hole expands—

like something behind the wall is pushing outward.

Like an eyelid slowly widening.

Dev says:

“They’re teaching me how to watch.”

His pupils are getting larger.

Too large.

This morning, the hole was big enough for a hand to fit.

Dev was whispering to it.

Whispering inside it.

I pulled him away—

his body was stiff, cold, like he had been standing for hours without breathing.

He screamed at me.

 “DON’T BLOCK THE VIEW!”

Today I returned from work early.

Silence.

I called Dev.

No answer.

I followed the wet sound…

Like someone pulling their body through clay.

It came from his room.

I opened the door.

My breath froze.

Dev’s entire body was halfway inside the hole.

Only his head remained outside, trembling, trying to push in.

His face…

His eyes were too wide.

Too stretched.

Like something had grabbed them from the inside.

He whispered:

 “Di… don’t block the— view… don’t… don’t—”

and then his head slid in.

The wall swallowed him.

I should have run.

I should have burned the place.

But I crawled towards the hole.

And I looked.

Inside the darkness…

Rows of eyes.

Hundreds.

Stacked like layers of teeth.

All of them staring at me.

Watching.

Waiting.

Learning me.

I felt something cold on my cheek—

a finger?

Or an eyelash from something huge?

I can’t stop thinking about those eyes.

Last night, I heard their whisper:

 “Watch with us…”

This morning, a new small hole appeared beside my bed.

Another beside the bathroom mirror.

Another on the ceiling.

I see movement inside them.

They blink at me.

I think… I’m starting to blink like them.

My vision is changing.

I don’t sleep.

I only watch.

I understand now why Dev crawled inside.

It’s peaceful there.

No loneliness.

Just endless eyes.

Endless watching.

If someone finds this notebook…

Don’t come looking for us.

Don’t look into the holes.

Because once you see them—

you become one of the viewers.

And now…

I’m watching you too.