Scrubman and the greasy mirror curtains

You walk over to your shabby curtains hanging from your empty window.
You push one aside gazing into the window, some un-light seeps in covering the room in a small stream of swirling smokey shadow.
What the fuck.
You decide to remove it, both of your hands are full of gross dusty shabby curtain and now you're letting the dark in like a nerd.
You go back downstairs
Standing in your bedroom, ragged curtains in hand you find that the atmosphere is now [KINDA FUCKED]
You are being watched.