Someone was ringing my doorbell. It was late, and I was in the house all by myself. I was groggy from sleeping, and I instinctively sat up, threw my legs over the side of the bed. I shivered because I had been dreaming of something that had made me sweaty; now I was chilly. Who the hell was ringing my doorbell at this hour? I wasn’t expecting anyone. I tiptoed downstairs to see if I could figure out who was at my front door. I know the floorboards well, so I was very careful not to step on any of the squeaky steps or to make a whole lot of noise. There was a light on outside the door, and I could see the silhouette of a man, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another. This couldn’t be good. It was the middle of the night and some stranger was restlessly waiting for me to come to the door.
My heart was pounding while I ran through my options of how to handle him. My inclination was to just stand there quietly until he left; it sounded like by far the best option for me, so that’s exactly what I did. After a few minutes passed, he rang the doorbell again. Only this time it was more feverish, almost threatening. I was standing next to the door, and just to the side of a door is a window. I can see his shadow shifting, shifting, shifting back and forth. Was this a tweaker looking for some smack? Why? Why did I have to be alone tonight when this freak was anxiously ringing for me? Time for plan B. This guy wasn’t going to leave. I ran back up to my bedroom, and while I was on my way up the stairs, he started pounding on the door. Fuck! I can’t believe this was happening. I was moving faster now, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I lunged up the stairs my bedroom so I could grab my cell phone. I was calling the police. This was ridiculous. I dialed 9-1-1, and this guy continued to ring my doorbell and pound on the door. Why didn’t he get that I wasn’t going to answer the door? NO ONE’S HOME, ASSHOLE!!!!! I could feel the sweat run down the middle of my back as I listened to the line ring. It seemed like forever before someone answered. I whispered very quietly over the line that I needed someone to come out and help me. They kept saying, “What? I’m sorry ma’am, we can’t hear you!” And so I kept repeating myself, my address, “Please send someone out here right now, he won’t leave me alone!”Silence… “Ma’am, why don’t you just answer the door?”I gasped. What? What are they saying to me? Didn’t they hear me just say that I needed help? What the fuck is wrong with these people? I hit the ‘End’ button and sat there for a moment, shaking. Deep breaths. Deep breaths… Okay, I can handle this. Think, Ash. Think!It was so silent that suddenly I could hear myself think. Silence… That couldn’t be good. The anxious man at my door hadn’t pounded on the door or rang the door bell for at least a few minutes now. Did he leave? Did he finally give up? Slowly, and pointedly, I left my bedroom and walked down the hall towards the stairway. I paused every few steps to listen. Nothing. Silence. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the door. No, I’m not crazy, I’m not opening that door. I glanced over to the window, and the man was standing right there in front of the window, peering in. His eyes were wide and you could see him nervously look around in my foyer for me. Panic! I froze in my steps. If the temperature had actually dropped as quickly as I felt it had, my sweat would have formed icicles right down my spine. Did he see me? For a few split seconds, I prayed for my life, hoping there was some way, some how that he couldn’t see me. After all, it was dark in my house, and the light was on outside. That should mean I could see him, but he couldn’t see me, right? I was holding my breath. Don’t move, Ash, just stand there, still. I blinked and when I opened my eyes again, he was no longer in front of the window. Who was this man? I took his absence as an opportunity to hunch down, to inch away from the window. I had to hide. I wanted to be near the front door so I could keep him within my sight. Didn’t want this fucker going around to any other window. I dropped down in front of the window, just below the line of light, so that I could see out, but he couldn’t see me when I looked in. I had a pang of deja vu. This panic-stricken situation reminded me of the nightmares I used to have when I was little. These nightmares were so vivid that as a child, I couldn’t tell the difference between truth and fiction. I would dream about someone trying to see inside my home through a window, and how I would try to find different hiding places inside the house where there were no windows, so no one could see me. I think that as a kid, I was terrified that someone would see what was happening in my home. I was completely freaked out that they could peer in and see– through a window– the very things I wanted to hide from everyone. I lifted my head just a little… enough so I could see his silhouette again. How long had he been here? Minutes? Hours? My skin was beginning to dry a little, though my heart was still pounding furiously. I didn’t have any other plans, other than to just watch him. I couldn’t tell if I knew this man or not, but maybe if I looked at him enough, I could form a good description of him in my mind so that I could identify him later. I kept bobbing my head up every few seconds to peer over the bottom of the windowsill to look at him. It seemed like hours had passed. I kept thinking and trying to process what was happening. This anxious man was on my doorstep, pounding on the door and ringing the doorbell. God only knows who or why he was here. Eventually, he would leave. He couldn’t stand there all night, right?So I knelt there. I knelt and knelt and knelt until my legs began to fall asleep. My fear was peeling off of me in sheets, and eventually I wasn’t afraid of him any more. As my pounding heart began to slow down, so did his movement. He wasn’t shifting his weight back and forth anymore. Instead, his head hung down, his chin near his chest, almost like he was sleeping. Fucker. I’d be sleeping, too, if this crazy man wasn’t insistent on keeping me awake all damn night. I continued to watch him doze off. He did the little head bob, falling asleep, bobbing his head, then jerking it back awake. He was going to fall asleep, standing there on my damn porch. Asshole. After about ten minutes or so, this guy was still. Hmm. What better time to catch him off guard? I should have something heavy in my hand and open the door and scare him– hopefully startle him away. Maybe I could hit him hard enough to knock him out. I glanced around the living area to see if there was anything I could use to protect myself. Whatever I chose, I needed to do it quickly, while this guy was soundly sleeping. My eyes covered the room– there wasn’t much in here, I am a minimalist when it comes to decorating. I knew it immediately when my eyes passed over the fireplace. I bolted over to that part of the room, grabbed the poker, and in only a few brief movements, I was in front of the door, peering through the peep hole at this freak who had so completely ruined my night. I stood the poker up against my leg and touched the dead bolt with one hand and the thumb lock with the other. If I was quick enough, I could unlock the door and open it at the same time, grab the poker, and raise it ready to strike. I know what you’re thinking at this point, and no, I’m not completely crazy . But I had tried everything I could think of at this point. The police weren’t going to help me. I certainly couldn’t just prance right up the stairs and go back to sleep myself. I needed to handle this situation, and this is MY house, goddamnit. I refuse to allow this asshole to take this much control over my life, my home, and my time. So I took a deep breath, and twisted the dead bolt and the knob at the same time. In the same movement, I lifted that poker over my shoulder and threw the door open. He jerked his head up. I recognized him immediately. This was no crazy tweaker (well, it was, but he was someone I knew well). “What the fuck do you want, Jeremy?” I screamed at him. How dare he do this to me? He had scared the shit out of me, but I knew he wasn’t a threat to my safety any more. “What’s WRONG with you?”He just stood there, and a smirk spread across his lips. “WHAT?!”He stood there smiling, grinning at me. He could see I was angry. Furious. Incensed. I didn’t care if I knew him. I was going to have to beat the shit out of him. I couldn’t believe this whole time I was frantically trying to figure out what to do; if I had just opened the door, I would have seen it was him. I stopped. I lowered my poker. “What is it, Jeremy?”“Have you figured it out yet?” he said cryptically. I knew exactly what he had meant. “Yes. I’ve got it completely under control. I’ve been creating like crazy.” And then. Then, I woke up.
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