A Bump In The Night

Man, I'm jumpy tonight. 

I locked the door and all the windows.  I closed the curtains.  I'm safe now. 

I bet if I lived on the second floor I would never be this freaked out.  These gigantic windows don't help.  It's like having sliding doors all over my apartment.  You could practically walk through the freaking things.  But they're locked now.  I'm safe. 

I've already checked the only hiding spots my miniscule apartment has, the closets, behind the shower curtain, and under my bed.  Still, my eyes keep darting around my tiny bedroom.  Searching, searching.  I pull my blanket up to my ears and continue my vigil.

It's not like he's dangerous.  Maybe he is just going through a midlife crisis or something, I don't know.  But, he's not crazy.  Well, he is acting like he is, but he can't be.  He was so nice.  So normal.  But the letters have gotten increasingly worrisome.  I mean, they always freaked me out, but this last one was downright disgusting. 

I thought I was so clear.  I told him I wasn't interested.  Not only is he twice my age, but my God, he is married.  I would never, ever, allow a man to cheat on his wife with me.  I told him that.  Many times.    

At first I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  Maybe I should have been tougher right away. Clearly he didn't hear me.  He doesn't take hints well.  I had to be brutal.  Look, guy, I don't like you.   The end.   Still, it hasn't seemed to help.

Oh shit!  Oh God, that made me jump.  The phone again.  What is that, the sixth time?  No message.  Again.

I can't even answer the damn phone anymore.  I heard that just answering the phone is enough to keep someone calling, even if you are answering to tell them to stop calling.  I heard you should just stop taking their calls.  So I did. 

And then yesterday he shows up at my work.  Standing by my car holding flowers and chocolates.  How does he even know where I work?  Oh God, it gives me shivers.  I have to stop thinking about this. 

I did lock all the windows, right?

Yes.  I did.

I wonder who that was calling tonight.  Why didn't they just leave me a message so I could call back?  My friends and family know to leave messages.  Maybe I should get that caller ID thing. 

What was that? What was that noise?  Was that from one of the other apartments?  My body breaks out in hot prickles.

Okay, calm down.  It was probably just a car door or something.  A neighbor. I am getting myself all worked up for nothing. 

He is just obsessing.  He isn't crazy.  Well, obsessing kind of is crazy.  But, he isn't violent or anything.  Right?  Right.

I gotta get to sleep.  I have to be up so early tomorrow.  Think about something else. 

Think happy thoughts.  Okay.  *sigh*  Better.

I roll over onto my stomach and force myself to relax.  Calm.  Calm. Deep breaths.

Finally, exhaustion takes over.  Drifting.  Deeper, deeper I fall into sleep.

Suddenly I am jolted awake.  A noise.  My eyes fly open. 

Someone is here. 

In my room?  A shadow passes over my body. 

Oh God.

My eyes frantically search my bedroom.  I am alone.

Slowly, slowly I tilt my head to look behind my headboard at the window.  A scream catches in my throat.  It's him.

The light from the parking lot shines brightly behind him boldly outlining his shape against the other side of my window.  My curtains are so thin I can see his hair standing up in the breeze.  Can he see me? 

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. 

Don't move.  Don't breath.  Don't make a sound.

Do I run for the phone?  Would they even get here in time? 

Sweat drips from the back of my neck, my eyes are watering.  I am frozen in my bed. 

I quickly list off possible weapons I have in my tiny apartment.  Baseball bat, knife, ... oh God is that it? 

He's still there.  What do I do?  If he hears me move maybe he'll try to get in.  What do I do? 

Minutes pass.  It feels like hours.  I look up again, and he's gone. 

I slither out of bed onto the floor, grab my baseball bat from under my bed, and crawl to the phone.  I grab the receiver off the wall and sit on the floor, my eyes darting from window to window to window searching for his shadow again.

An hour passes and I am still sitting on the floor clutching the receiver to my chest with my left hand, the baseball bat in my right.  He's gone.  He's got to be.  But I'm too scared to get up and peek out the curtains.  Terrified I'll be seen.  I'll just wait a little longer.




In honor of Halloween weekend I thought I'd post the whole story to my text post from earlier in the week.  If you want to read some scary GHOST stories you can read my personal experiences here, here, and here.  They are all true stories as is today's post.  Have a spooooookey weekend!