Evil Eye
It was the middle of the night, and Jake’s eye was on the run.
Well, no. Not running. That would be silly. More like floating.
Also, Jake’s eye wasn’t in his head anymore. Big problem.
The bicycle wobbled as Jake pedalled madly. He pumped his legs up and down. The bike tore down the street, whizzing past stop signs. Ahead, the eye rounded a curve. Jake tried to take it as quickly as the eye, and nearly flew over the handlebars. He hit the brakes and burned a layer of rubber off on the road.
The back tire pushed forward, and Jake had to plant his feet to keep from pitching off the bike.
Up ahead, the eye stopped just under a streetlight.
It hovered in the air like a dragonfly, and turned around to stare at Jake.
Jake shivered.
 He could see everything the eye saw. He stood frozen on his bike, watching himself watch himself. The two images bled together. It was hard to separate them. Humans weren’t meant to see this way.
Then the eye turned and pressed back into the night. Jake let out a groan, then pushed himself back up on the bike. He pedalled on.
It was almost as if the eye wanted Jake to follow it. Why else would it keep to the streets?
Why else would it stop to let him catch up?
Jake sped on. The road dropped down to a hill, and Jake pedalled as if his life depended on it. The bike raced down the street, picking up as much speed as a car might. The wind tore at his hair and whipped his shirt into ruffles. He squinted his empty eye socket closed and held out his hand. His fingertips were just inches away from the white orb that belonged back in his skull.
He almost had it. Just a few inches more —
The eye swerved out of the way.
It was playing with him.
And Jake knew where it was leading him.
Back to the cemetery. Jake’s head was full of questions, but the biggest one still wasn’t answered.
Why?