Why It's Hard

I've been feeling strange lately. Something-Someone?-has been following me round the place, and I'm scared. You can hear swishes all the time. My poem was even about swishing. I love poetry. It went like this:

Swish.
The sound hits me ears,
I look around and see nothing,
Swish.
I hear you, I do.
But where are you?

I decided to take a break.
A walk. At night. Alone. Stupid me.

I heard a swish. I looked around. Nothing. I walked with a faster pace. Have to get home, gotta get home, must get home. This time a sound was heard. A very distinct crash and swish. Then suddenly you were in front of me.