This was a few years ago, on a night when the clock was about to strike twelve. I was glad my roommate was away, visiting a friend in another town. When she was gone, I always stayed up late, watching films and listening to my small stereo. I had just turned off the television and decided it was time to sleep.
I walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. Everything seemed normal, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t alone in the apartment. I was thirteen then, and I remembered a story my cousin once told about waking up to find a stranger standing in the hallway while the rest of the house slept. Being young, I tried to ignore the nervous feeling. I needed some quiet music to fall asleep, so I went to tune my stereo to a better station.
As I stood near my dresser, I heard a soft voice from behind me say, “hello.” I spun around.