I felt a chill down my spine the moment my hands wrapped around the door knob. I had never been anxious about answering the door in my entire life, and when I found my hands shaking from it, I hesitated to open. Then the knock came again—strong, encouraging, and somehow distantly familiar in ways I didn’t understand.

Licking my lips, I turned the brass knob and pulled the door open slowly, swallowing the unnatural eagerness welling in my chest. I drew in a deep breath, preparing myself for what waited for me on the other side.

My eyes widened as the figure of a man began to appear through the opening. The eagerness suddenly became a wariness and I stopped until there was just enough space to see him. I placed one hand, open palm, against the door in case I needed to use my body weight to shut it. However, I forced a polite smile on my lips.

“May I help you?” I asked the unfamiliar man.

He said nothing.

I waited.

He still said nothing.

Smile forgotten and patience gone, I repeated myself. He continued to watch me with his unblinking eyes. I’d never seen anyone so completely still in my life; for a moment I had to wonder if he was even real. Hell, he was even as pale as a ghost, maybe he was one!

“Look, who the hell are you? Do you need something?” I questioned him, the volume of my voice rising in brewing anger. Silently I hoped he didn’t notice the quavering in my words. I didn’t like where this was going so it was hard to suppress my growing fear.

The phone rang and it nearly made me jump out of my skin and there was no hiding it. I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Of course, the strange man didn’t even flinch and continued to stare down at me.

I turned my head away just enough to see the phone by my television. I really didn’t care about the call, but I wanted to make the man on my porch think it was important enough to close the door and walk away.

“Look, I’m waiting on that call.  You’re going to have to get out of here.” I didn’t want to be rude, but he had started it, after all. When I turned back, he was gone without so much as a whisper. I opened the door a little more to make sure that he was well on the way, but there wasn’t a trace of him ever being there.

Swallowing hard, I closed the door, making sure to secure every possible lock. All the nervous energy I didn’t know was there whooshed through me, making it hard to move to the phone.

“Get it together,” I whispered to myself.

Using the wall, I pushed myself in the direction of the phone. I seriously considered calling the police as I got closer, but I couldn’t figure out what I would say. Now that he was gone, I could barely remember his face…just his eyes–haunted eyes the color of the sky on a rainy afternoon surrounded by dark and almost too thick lashes. Eyes that sought me out in crowds, beaconing me closer, seducing me form afar. Eyes that were only for me…always only for me.

I whimpered as I realized that somehow I knew that man.

As fast as my feet could carry me, I rushed out of the house, leaving my door open behind me. I didn’t care that I was barefoot or that I was barely dressed in my thin pajamas. I had to find him and stop him.

“Hello!” I cried out. “Come back! Wait, come back!” I begged.

I knew him. I. Knew. Him. But he was gone and I had no idea of how to bring him back to me.

In the middle of the secluded street, my legs began to buckle as the dam on emotions I shouldn’t have had broke and tears flooded down my cheeks.