In Love With My Stalker

Every time it stormed in this part of the city, the power went out. Hours passed with the rain coming down in sheets, joined by the periodic flash and bang of thunder and lightning. At sunset, I'd taken up my silent vigil on the window seat and had sat there long enough for my legs to go numb. Warm and wanting for nothing, I sat cocooned in the blanket I snatched off the bed. A scatter of candles lit the room, sending shadows dancing across the walls. Raindrops tapped a frantic beat against the windows, seeking shelter from the low rumbles of thunder that seemed to chase them through the city. I couldn't tear my gaze away. The ferocity of the storm soothed something inside of me. Maybe watching the heavens release their burden reassured some part of me I could let go of mine, too. The peace shattered when a sudden knock sounded at my door. I jumped a mile, knocking some feeling back into my stiff legs. With wide eyes, I stared at the door in alarm, like it had made the noise on its own. Of all the reactions that ran through my mind, opening it wasn't on the list. In the three months I'd lived in Westermont Apartments, no one had ever knocked. I didn’t know anyone except for the security guard downstairs. Bernie’s arthritic joints wouldn’t let him climb to the sixth floor for a visit in the middle of a power outage. The knock came again, a little louder that time. I sat there in the familiar silence of my apartment with the rain as a backdrop, and soon, my eyes returned to scouring the darkness. I waited for whoever it was to go away. But they didn’t. The caller kept knocking. It was always the same amount of knocks, with no sign of impatience or resignation. I stood up after the fifth time. My knees cracked as I stretched my stiff limbs. I shuffled toward the door a couple of paces, clutching my blanket around my shoulders. Maybe I could just look through the peephole and see who it was. The emergency lights were on in the halls, so I’d be able to get a good look. My fingertips brushed over the simple links of the security chain until I could feel where it latched. It made me feel better knowing it was in place before I pressed my eye to the peephole. A man stood there in the low light of the hallway. He chewed his thumbnail with his gaze trained on something lower than mine. He looked scruffy and tired, but not really menacing. But then again, people never did until they attacked. He knocked again as I peeked at him, making me flinch. “What do you want?” I called through the door. My practiced, intolerant tone always worked on strangers. It made people interact with me as little as absolutely necessary. Through the peephole, the man looked amazed at the sound of my voice. His hand fell from his mouth as a smile replaced it. “Hey! You don’t know me, but–” “I know,” I said. The man stopped talking at my interruption. His eyes fell on the peephole like he knew I was looking at him, and he frowned. I checked the locks again at the directness of his gaze. “My name is Jake. I live in the apartment right above you, but I locked my key inside,” he told me. “What do you want?” I asked again. He sighed, running his hands over his face in exhaustion. “Will you let me in? I think I can climb up from your window to mine." I scrambled away from the door at once, repulsed by the idea of letting someone inside. This was the one place in the world where no one expected me to fill the silence. The only place on earth with peace. I couldn’t let anyone in to steal that from me. To crush me with noise. When I didn’t respond, I heard him groan in annoyance. “Look, lady, I just got back into the country on a plane packed to capacity, and they put my luggage on the wrong flight. We get back in the middle of this goddamn storm, and I can’t even get in my place to shower and change these clothes I’ve been wearing for two days. I’ve knocked on every door on this side of the building for the last five floors. Nobody will help me. I’m sorry to bother you, I really am. And I promise you I wouldn’t if I had any other choice. I just want to go home.” Tacky sweat covered me, and my breaths dragged. I wanted to look at him again to check to see if he had a weapon or was preparing to kick down my door, but I couldn’t move. Fear froze my legs in place. “Ugh… forget it,” I heard him grumble. Did that mean he was leaving? Or was he trying to lure me into a false sense of security for a sneak attack? I stumbled to the door and peered out, but the hall in front of my door was empty. My fingers were fumbling with the locks like they had a mind of their own while I stared at them in horror. I opened the door wide enough to get my head around the frame. I saw the man trudging down the hallway with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “Why didn’t you ask maintenance for a spare?” My voice was hoarse from little use and so soft I hoped he couldn’t hear me. He turned around in an instant. At the sight of me, he stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, staring at me like he just saw a ghost. He even went pale. “H-hi,” he stammered, as if the sight of me knocked the wind out of him. I frowned at the change in his tone. The way he was looking at me made me feel x-rayed. I retreated into the sanctuary of my apartment. “No, wait! I mean, I did. I asked the maintenance guy, but they don’t keep spares. Only the landlord has them, and she doesn’t live in the area. Stupid, huh?” he explained as he hurried back to my door. His sudden approach made me freeze again. I nodded, my mouth too dry for words. His eyes roamed nonstop, dancing over my hair and face and then the rest of me. I glanced down at myself at his probing and remembered that I wore only a t-shirt and underwear beneath my blanket. I pulled the comforter tighter around me and shrank away from him until only half my face was visible around the door. “What are you going to do?” I still hadn’t worked out why I opened the door. After all, I didn’t care about his problems. “Keep knocking on doors, I guess, until someone takes pity on me,” he replied. He didn’t seem annoyed anymore, but the fascination that replaced it made me uncomfortable. I took in the sight of his unshaven face and his constantly moving dark brown eyes. His hair was long, and also a dusky brown, pulled back in a messy bun thing. He wore a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands were still in his pockets, making me think he had something in them. “Are you going to hurt me now?” I felt more resigned than frightened. I’d opened the door for a stranger that admitted to wanting to enter my apartment. It would be stupid to be surprised when he murdered me. “Wha–? No! I'd never do that!” His hands came out of his pockets to hover in the air in a show of innocence. His pockets deflated, empty. "W–why would you think I’d want to hurt you?" “That’s what strangers always want.” He frowned, and I noticed the pity in his eyes. “Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but that’s not what I want.” “What do you want?” I asked for the third time. And for the first time, our eyes met. The color of his eyes was deep and his gaze was steady. I wanted to trust him, and that alarmed me. “Honestly… I just want to go to bed,” he said with an exhausted sigh. We stared at each other for a moment. I could see the pleading in his eyes. I chewed my lip. “… you’ll just go to the window? You won’t touch me or my things?” “Just the window. I swear.” I watched him for a moment longer, trying to catch a hint of deception. With my blood pounding in my ears, I stepped back from the doorway. I pulled the door open with me, creating a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. “You don’t know how much I appreciate it,” the man whose name I’d forgotten said. Then he stepped into my apartment like it was the most natural thing in the world, instead of like my walls of security were crumbling with each step he took. But I felt them fall, and I couldn’t speak. I closed the door behind him but didn’t lock it in case I needed to make an escape. True to his word, he headed right for the window I’d been staring out of earlier. The rain was still falling as steady as ever, and a fork of lightning dazzled our eyes as he approached. I kept my back pressed against the solidity of the door, watching as the man unlatched the window. It took a few forceful jerks to work out the stiffness of the wood, but then it slid up without a sound. The raucous presence of the rain made me wince. A stiff breeze invaded my space, too, and my candles fluttered. Leaning on the window seat, he looked down at the drop. He reached out to push at the railing of the fire escape, but it didn’t creak or sway. He glanced at me, huddled in my blanket. I stared right back. “Come close the window behind me." I crossed the room on stiff legs to do as he said. The stinging raindrops found my skin where my blanket slipped off my shoulders, and I shivered. “What’s your name?” he asked over the sound of the storm. “Why?” “If I learned anything tonight, it’s that I don't know anyone in this building. I feel pretty bad about it now. You helped me out when no one else would, and it means a lot. I figure I should at least know your name.” I thought about it for a minute, trying to gauge the truth of his explanation. “Cadence,” I finally muttered. The man climbed out onto the fire escape, undaunted by the weather. The rain drenched him within seconds. He looked back at me again, blinking water out of his eyes. “Thank you, Cadence. And good night,” he said through wet lips with a wet smile. I pulled the window shut without a word. He turned and hurried up the metal stairs, the sound of his footsteps drowned out by the rain. I locked the window and locked the door. Then, I gathered my blanket around me and climbed back onto the window seat. My apartment was silent once more, with no one else in it but me. Resting my forehead against the cool glass, I went back to staring out at the rain.