Farm

It's been in my family a while, that farm. Old and rickety, falling apart and rotting away. Still in use by my aunt and uncle, however. 
I hate that farm.
It started pretty normally, just some normal paranoia as a side effect from my anxiety medication. Just a coincidence it kicked up at the farm. Well, I thought at least.
Then I started hearing things. Voices, footsteps following my own. Thought I was imagining things. Hoped I was as well.
Then I saw it for the first time.
A shadow at the end of the barn, running away from me. I thought it was a family member. I was playing hide-and-seek after all. So, of course, I ran after it. I got to the opposite end of the barn.
Nothing. No footprints, no disturbed dust, not a sign of a person being there. 
Then I panicked as a twelve-year-old would. Running as fast as my legs can move back to my dad.
Everyone was there. My sister, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my grandparents, and great-grandparents. I was the only one not there. So I accused everyone of being liars. My aunt didn't help me calm down either.
"Probably the same ghost that saved me a bit ago." Thanks, Johann. 
I didn't think it would follow me, however.
Now I see it everywhere. The end of hallways, the center of doorways, the middle of empty rooms.
Johann, that is not the same ghost.
Last night it was in the mirror, I don't know but I feel like something is wrong. That is not a good presence.
Now I feel it breathing down my neck.