My wife has been peeking at me from around corners and behind furniture. It's gone from weird to terrifying

I was in my living room last week, scrolling through my phone, and after a minute or two I got that feeling that somebody was watching me. Nonchalantly, just out of curiosity, I glanced toward the door.<br><br>My wife, Sarah, was stood there. She was in the doorway, peeking at me from around the corner. She saw me look at her, then she smiled and scurried out of my view. I was a bit confused, but assumed she was just fucking around, playing a prank or something, so I waited for her to come back. After about five minutes, I got bored of waiting and got on with my day.<br><br>The next day, it happened again. We were both in the kitchen, and I was stood by the counter, preparing some food. I felt that same sensation, and turned to see Sarah peeking around the refrigerator at me. I asked her what she was doing. She just laughed and ran out of the kitchen, saying she was "playing a game."<br><br>I asked her on multiple occasions to stop, but every day, sometimes a few times a day, she'd be peeking at me. From around doors, the end of the bed, over the top of the setSupportActionBar She seemed to be having the time of her life. It was like a game to her. I started getting really fucking annoyed. And after a few days, it was just too much. So when I caught her the following morning, crouched behind the coffee table and grinning, I lost it and yelled. I told her that this game she was playing was fucking creepy. I told her it had gone too far. That it wasackson fucking with me. I told her to stop. That this wasn't a fucking game. That she was freaking me the fuck out.<br><br>She stood up, still grinning, and told me she was just trying to have a bit of fun. I warned her. I fucking warned her. And when she did it again, the next morning, I fucking lost it. When I saw her, peeking over the back of our sofa, I screamed at her. Full on screamed at the top of my lungs. She ran out of the house, emotional and upset. I just kept shouting at her, until she left. Fuck her. I was fucking fed up.<br><br>I calmed down throughout the day. Later that afternoon, I started to feel bad. She'd just been having a little fun. A stupid game. Sending pranks. Yes, it was fucking creepy, but I shouldn't have fucking blasted her like that. She'd looked so fucking upset when she left, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I missed her. I fucking loved her. So I apologised. She accepted my apology, and promised me she'd stop.<br><br>She was true to her word. For a few days, I didn't see her once. I'd almost forgotten about it. But then, a few nights ago, I was laying in bed, and I saw her peeking over the side of the mattress. I reached down and touched her forehead, and smiled. She was fucking around again. Playing her game. I was going to tell her to stop, but something made me pause. Something made me feel apprehensive.<br><br>Sarah is just under 5ft4. Her forehead shouldn't have been that close to my hand.<br><br>I looked down at her. She was peeking over the mattress, grinning at me. But she was tiny. I could only see her face. Her forehead and two eyes. The rest of her was hidden by the mattress. She didn't look like my wife. She barely even looked human.<br><br>"Hey." She said, her tiny voice barely a whisper.<br><br>"Hey." I replied, trying to hide how fucking terrified I was.<br><br>"You love me?" She asked.<br><br>"Yes." I said. "I love you."<br><br>"I love you too." She said.<br><br>"Huh?" I said.<br><br>"I love you too." She repeated.<br><br>I sat bolt upright and turned on the light. There was nobody there. The bed was empty. I have no idea what just happened. Was it a dream? I'm so fucking confused.<br><br>I told my wife about it over breakfast. She smiled and stroked my hand, and said it sounded like a dream. I told her how fucking real it was. How real it felt. She just smiled and said maybe I was just a little stressed out. But I'm not stressed. I'm just fucking weirded out by what's going on.<br><br>I don't even know how to explain it. But something does not feel right. I mean, it was probably just a dream. But it felt more than that. It felt like...I don't know. Like something was trying to communicate with me. I know that sounds stupid, but I don't know how else to explain it. Like something was trying to speak to me. To tell me something. Something about Sarah. Something about how much she loved me.<br><br>I've been thinking about it all fucking day. I keep telling myself to stop. But my mind just fucking wanders. Every second I have to myself, I'm just sat there, thinking about it. And the more I think about it, the weirder it gets. The more I start to feel like something is fucking wrong.<br><br>A few hours ago, I sort of lost it. When Sarah was out, I started checking around the house. I was looking for any indication that something else was going on. Anything that could explain what I saw. I scoured every fucking room. Every fucking corner. But I found nothing. I'm fucking stupid. I'm fucking insane. There's nothing here. There's nothing fucking wrong.<br><br>I can't stop thinking about it. I keep fucking thinking about it. And the more I think about it, the more I'm fucking convinced that something is wrong. Why would my wife keep fucking peeking at me? Why would she keep fucking playing that game? Why would she keep fucking with me? I don't even recognise her anymore. I just feel like she's fucking with me. Every day. Every fucking day.<br><br>I'm going to fucking lose it. I'm going to lose my fucking mind. I just know it. I can feel it. I feel it coming, creeping up on me, hour by hour, day by day. Soon, I'm just going to fucking explode. I just know it. I can fucking feel it.<br><br>I'm so fucking terrified. I'm so fucking scared.