Strangers in the dark

Another longe one by Stella Säfström

“Who are you?”

My voice is calm, smooth. A whisper floating towards my door. Light shines in, the dark figure is surrounded by it. He doesn’t move.

I’m sitting still, my computer is beside me, no light shines in through my window. It is night. I’m half naked, although it’s dark because it’s also hot. The summer air won’t leave my bedroom, no matter how hard I try. No one should be home. Including me.

“What do you want?”

I can’t see his face. He’s got a scarf tied around his mouth. It’s too dark for me to see his eyes and he wears only black. He is big. I should be scared, terrified. I’m so easily frightened. But somehow it doesn’t feel that way. I don’t feel threatened. I somehow feel safe.

Although he doesn’t.

“Should I just sit here, speaking my lonely dialogue for myself, or are you going to answer me?”

He looks at me, I can’t see it, but I can feel it. How old is he?
“How old are you?”

My voice is an echo of my thoughts. The words bounces on the surrounding walls. I’m tempted to stand up but then I would be scared. The reality of a man standing in my doorway would catch up with me. I can’t handle that.

I look at him intensively. What is he hiding? What is he doing here? To rob me maybe, but still, it doesn’t feel that way. Maybe it’s a bet. He doesn’t seem very old. But he’s big.

All guys seem big next to me.

Suddenly he moves. Turns around, walks away. He can’t go now. I have things, things I need to know. Questions.

“Where are you going?”

I stand up. I don’t know why. I should be scared. Why am I not? I walk, no, run towards him. He stops. I’m right behind him. The yellow light is bright in this night. In this corridor. All doors are closed. Shut. I can hear his breaths now that I’m so close to him. He’s shaking. The breathing isn’t normal, he’s almost grasping for air.

I can feel his energy. I look up towards his neck. Damn, I’m small. I suppress my eagerness to touch him. What am I doing? What am I trying to prove? I feel playfull. I need to play with my destiny. I’m keen to talk to him. To feel danger
.

What do I want? To be hit? Raped? I mean, come on. Nothing good could possibly come out from this weird situation. I’m deep in my thoughts concerning what’s right and wrong in this state when I hear him weeping. He’s shaking and his breaths are totally unbalanced.

I want to speak but, it doesn’t seem right to comfort a guy that just broke in to my house. What am I to do then? Who is this guy and why on earth is he crying?

“I’m sorry” he says

No, he whispers. Slowly he turns around. I realize that I was right. His eyes are red from crying, and he is young. Eighteen to be exact. He is Jacob. And I know exactly who he is.