Thinking it through

The hum of the car was the only sound between us, and I found myself staring blankly out the window, watching the streetlights blur as we sped through the darkened streets.

I wanted to say something. To apologize for dragging him into my panic.

But the words stuck in my throat, weighed down by the fear still swirling inside me.

The email, the shadow... the feeling that someone was watching me.

I was trapped in my own mind, spiraling deeper with every mile we drove.

Finally, Matt pulled up in front of my building. He glanced at me, his face unreadable in the dim light of the streetlamp. "You sure you're okay?"

I nodded stiffly, unbuckling my seatbelt. "Yeah. I just need to sleep it off. Thanks, Matt. Really."

"Anytime," he said, though his tone was laced with doubt. "If you need anything, just call me, okay? Don't hesitate."

I gave him a small, forced smile, stepping out of the car. "Thanks. Goodnight."

He waited until I was safely inside before driving off, but even then, the suffocating feeling of being watched didn't leave me.

I hurried up the stairs to my apartment, fumbling with my keys as I unlocked the door. Once inside, I locked the door behind me, twisting the deadbolt twice just to be sure.

I leaned against the door, sliding down to sit on the floor, my knees pulled up to my chest. My whole body felt like it was vibrating with leftover adrenaline, but I couldn't cry.

Not yet. The shock was still too fresh, too raw.

I pushed myself up, moving mechanically through my routine—changing out of my work clothes, washing my face.

But when I finally lay down in bed, the weight of everything crashed over me.

The fear, the uncertainty, the overwhelming sense of dread that I couldn't shake.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I buried my face in the pillow, letting the sobs wrack my body.

I had no idea what was happening, no clue who was behind the threats or why they were targeting me. All I knew was that I was terrified.

And in that moment, all alone in the dark, it felt like no one could save me.

Eventually, the exhaustion from crying took over, and I drifted into a restless sleep, my dreams filled with shadows and faceless figures chasing me into the night.

The next morning, I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a truck. My body ached, my head throbbed, and my eyes burned from all the crying.

The events of the previous night played on a loop in my mind—running, the fear, the shadow in the reflection.

I couldn't go to work. Not today.

I reached for my phone and stared at the time—7:45 AM. If I didn't call in soon, I'd be late, and the last thing I wanted was for Nathaniel to call me, asking where I was. I took a deep breath before dialing his number.

He answered on the second ring. "Peace?"

"Good morning, sir," I said, my voice hoarse.

Nathaniel sighed. "You don't sound good. What's wrong?"

I hesitated, gripping my blanket tighter. I couldn't tell him about Lucas. I couldn't tell him about the fear keeping me locked inside my apartment.

"I'm not feeling well," I finally said. "I think I need to rest today."

There was silence on the other end, then a softer tone. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

I shook my head even though he couldn't see me. "No, I'll be fine. I just need a day to take care of myself."

Nathaniel exhaled. "Alright, take the day off. Get some rest. If you need more time, let me know."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, grateful for his understanding. "Thank you, sir."

"Just call if you need anything," he added before hanging up.

I dropped the phone on the bed and buried myself under the covers, but sleep didn't come. My body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't shut off. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the shadow. I heard the distorted voice from the phone.

I tried to fight it, but eventually, exhaustion won, and I drifted into sleep.

I woke up gasping, my heart hammering in my chest. My skin was clammy with sweat, and my hands shook as I wiped my face. The nightmare had felt too real.

I had been running again, just like last night, but this time, I wasn't alone. Someone was whispering my name, their breath hot against my neck.

Every time I turned, I saw nothing but shadows closing in on me.

I forced myself out of bed and went to the kitchen for water, my hands trembling as I poured myself a glass. I needed a distraction. Anything to take my mind off this.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

Movies. That was the best way to drown out my thoughts.

Something lighthearted. Something that didn't involve shadows lurking in reflections or distorted voices over the phone.

But no matter how many movies I played, my mind refused to settle. I felt like something—someone—was watching me.

Every creak of my apartment, every gust of wind outside sent a chill down my spine.

I hugged a pillow to my chest, keeping my eyes glued to the screen, willing myself to stay awake.

I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to dream.

And so I stayed up, watching movie after movie, until the first light of morning crept through my window.

As the morning light seeped through my curtains, exhaustion clung to me like a heavy blanket. My eyes burned from staying up all night, but the fear still lingered. I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't safe. That Lucas was out there, watching, waiting. I hugged myself, dreading what came next.