There it was, the twelfth eye in the series, each a different colour.  This one was grey like mine, with a huge black pupil, surrounded by thick, dark lashes.  It was on the wall in front of me, surrounded by brown dirty bricks.  I blinked.  The eye was staring into me, following me with its infinite gaze.  I walked forward towards the dirty wall of the council estate, still staring into the eye.  When I was twelve I had received a silver brooch in the shape of an eye with the iris made of some purple gem.  Since then my dreams and reality had been haunted by eleven eyes.  But today I had found the twelfth, different from the others, and as it stared at me, eating me with its gaze, I felt as if it was pulling me in, taking in my soul.  As we stared I heard a crunch of gravel behind me, and I knew, I knew from that moment on that he had found me....

Charlotte, Year Eight