It’s happened again. 12 days ago, she came back.
It started as usual, right on schedule. She scraped her feet starting from the back deck. I sighed and rolled my eyes, wishing I could enjoy my smoke in peace. It’s been a while since my nights have been peaceful. I got up to check the locks, which has become my routine. I know they’re locked, but I still feel the need.
She worked her way up around the corners, towards the front. I anticipated the banging. But that didn’t happen.
There was a soft knocking on the front door, as if it was merely company at 3 o’clock in the morning. I almost opened the door. This was different. I felt a sense of happiness- no. Happiness isn’t the right word. Joy. I felt a sense of joy at the knocking on my door. I almost didn’t question it.
I felt so happy, but also uneasy. The hairs at the nape of my neck were standing, and I felt nauseous. But outright fear wasn’t there.
“C’mon, open up.” A soft and gentle female voice said. I didn’t recognize the voice. The soft knocking picked up a little, in intervals of threes. I almost laughed, it reminded me of Sheldon on Big Bang Theory.
“Hey, it’s alright. It’s me.” The voice had an accent that reminded me of home. It had a small drawl to it but for the most part remained ambiguous of identity. I was going to ask who it was, but I felt a sharp pang in my heart right before speaking. My body was screaming at me not to answer.
The knocking picked up into a steady but fast paced rapping on the door. It was urgent now. The voice sounded irritated.
“Hey! Let me in! You know what’s out here!”
I started stepping away, going towards the interior door to the house. I was starting to feel concerned, fearful again. And then a switch. I felt despair right as the voice started sobbing.
“Please let me in. It’s going to get me. Please!” Desperate banging on the door happened. I felt guilty clutch my heart and moved to the door to help her. I felt she really needed me and I did know what was out there. I didn’t but I did, I knew what was out there meant suffering. I couldn’t just let another soul go through what was out there. My hand barely touched the handle when the fear came rushing back. I was almost knocked back by the sudden change in emotion. I jumped away from the door, shaking my head. I won’t verbally answer her. I know not to do that.
Every noise paused. I looked to the window to see that the blackness was still encasing. I wanted to run into the house and hide under my bed like a child. I wanted to call my mom. I wanted anything to make me feel safe.
Then the screaming came. It was full of rage. I knew who possessed that voice wanted hurt me. “LET ME IN! LET ME IN! LET ME IN!” She shrieked over and over. She banged loudly on the door, as if she wasn’t even hitting it with her hands. The door and frame were shaking. The garage was poorly built, with the right amount of force, she could get in if she wanted. But I don’t think she had the capability.
I felt anger. I felt hatred. I felt rage. I wanted to scream back at her. To tell her to shut up. To yell at her for the misery and fear she’s caused me. But as soon as I opened my mouth, I felt that pang in my heart. I can’t speak to her. That’s as good as an invitation. I crumpled to the floor with this realization. There was nothing I could do except cover my ear and shut my eyes.
It felt like hours it went on. But when it finally stopped, the whole ordeal had only taken 3 minutes.