What exactly are you supposed to do when you make eye contact with a guy that’s over six feet tall, has long, silky black hair, and is leaning against your doorframe better than James Bond?

No, I’m asking. Because at that moment, I did the opposite of something, which was, to say, nothing.

A deep voice sunk into my bones as the guy said, “No. No, I’m afraid not. Mind if I come in for a moment?”

He breezed past me without waiting for an answer, and I stood stock-still as he strolled into my apartment like he’d been living there all his life.

“What the h-hell do you think you’re d-doing?” I asked, cursing myself silently for the stutter that had kicked in as my fear levels rose.

“Mm, yes, I think this’ll do.” The guy ignored me, swiveling his head around my apartment, apparently talking to himself. I was still standing next to my open door, my stiff hand still around the knob, watching the guy with a kind of surreal tranquility, like this was someone else’s life.

I finally blinked and realized he was looking at me again, and I briefly panicked, wondering why the hell this guy had wandered into my home for what seemed like no reason.

“Who even are you? What are you doing? Y-You need to get out.” My words fell out of my mouth before I had a chance to organize them, and despite the situation, I felt a bit of vague embarrassment.

I was still gripping the doorknob, and I hadn’t moved from my spot next to the door, even though I was attempting to stand up straighter as if another inch might make up for the larger-than-a-half-foot difference between us.

The guy, who looked like he might have had some Japanese ancestors somewhere along the line, raised an eyebrow, and his eyes glinted. A sickly feeling washed over me, because the look on his face bore a stark resemblance to the look on a predator’s face once it’s targeted its prey.

He made a vague humming noise and stepped towards me, a grin plastered on his face. I didn’t even realize I had taken a step back to avoid him until my back hit the wall, a sudden coldness rushing through my veins.

This isn’t real, this can’t be real.

This shouldn’t be happening.

Things like this don’t happen in real life.

Instincts from years of running away were kicking into my bloodstream, and everything in me wanted to bolt on the spot, wanted to race away from the twisted dream that I was suddenly in fear of living out.

But my blood was frozen, because I’d never seen a smile like his before, and not in a good way. In the way that meant I didn’t move when he grabbed the edge of the door, the door I was still grasping, and tugged it from my grasp, and casually swung it shut. In the way that meant I couldn’t move from the spot when he slowly turned the lock, which resounded a clicking sound through the now silent apartment.

What is he doing what does this mean why is he here who is he why why why why why run run run run run.

My heart was racing as fast as my mind was, and I couldn’t seem to hold onto a singular thought long enough to act on it, which meant I stood in place, eyes wide and terrified, body shaking, as he turned back to me with a sick grin.

Get out I don’t want you here what do you want don’t come near me jesus god someone knock please someone help get out get out get out run away run away run away.

My thoughts overloaded as panic overrode my system, and without a word, my eyes shut and my body dropped to the floor as my world went black.

~~~

I blinked slowly, my vision coming into focus. I pushed myself up, looking down confusedly, idly wondering why I was on the couch. However, two seconds later everything rushed back to me in a flash, and I twisted my torso around wildly, praying it was all some horrible dream.

Unfortunately, my prayers went unanswered, and I let out a strangled yelp as I saw the same guy from before sitting at my kitchen table, his eyes staring right into mine. I scrambled around and backward in an effort to get further away from him, my mouth open in a silent gasp.

“Ah, finally. You’re awake.” He rose smoothly from my table, his hair falling smoothly over his shoulders. Actually, now that I was glancing at him a second time, I noticed his hair was long, really long, and it was blacker than night. He was tall, something I noticed once he stood up, since he was a lot closer to the ceiling fan than I was.

But his appearance wasn’t really important at the moment, mostly because he was approaching me with a calculating look on his face, and I didn’t like it one bit.