One hot night...

I’m not the sort of person who has trouble sleeping. Actually, I’m the opposite. I can sleep anywhere. I sleep in cars, in buses, on trains. I’ve been known to fall asleep in class. I don’t have a going-to-bed routine. I just lie down and close my eyes and that usually works for me.

So that night, when I tossed and turned, I should have known something was wrong. It was a hot summer night and the air was sticky and thick when I went to bed. The air conditioner had broken that day and the landlord hadn’t sent anyone to fix it yet.

I opened my bedroom window, so that I could at least get some air and I remember the hot, cloying gust that entered as I pushed it open. It was like trying to sleep in warm honey, despite the fact that I slept only in my bra and underwear. The sheet that I had left on the bed tangled and twisted around my legs as I tossed and turned. I dreaded looking at the clock, knowing that I had to get up for work in the morning but it must have been well after one in the morning by the time I drifted off.

I don’t know what time I woke up but it wasn’t the alarm clock that woke me. My eyes felt gooey and it was work to pull them open. When I did, I saw the gloomy grey pre-dawn light in my room.

And I saw the man sitting on my bed.

He was sitting completely still at the foot of my bed and he was dressed all in black. I couldn’t see his face, but I did see his smile, the white teeth beaming eerily out at me from the darkness.

I blinked and he was gone.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, falling out of bed of bed because of the tangle of sheets. I grabbed the nearest item of clothing, holding it to my body, and looked around. My room was empty. The rain had begun while I was sleeping and its patter against the window was the only sound I could hear. It was still dark. I pulled on the oversized t-shirt I had grabbed just in case, still gazing warily around.

I sat on the bed, feeling my heartbeat begin to calm. The rain had brought wind with it and my bedroom door creaked lightly in the breeze. I looked at it suspiciously. And realized that I hadn’t left my bedroom door open.

I don’t know what spirit seized me, but I sprang up from the bed, dashing from my bedroom, through my living room and to the doorway of my apartment. The door hung open.

I looked down the hallway just in time to see the entrance to the stairway slam. I ran, pulling the door open just in time to see a figure in black running down the stairs a few flights beneath me. I took the steps two at a time, going so fast I practically slid down them, ignoring the fact that I was barefoot. I lived on the fourth floor and I was out of breath by the time I reached the bottom.

He had reached street level before me and had a lead of about two blocks. I ran several more blocks in the darkness, trying to catch up to him, but I couldn’t and he seemed to know that. He rounded a corner a few blocks down from my building. I followed but when I finally got there, no one was in sight. He must have entered a building, but I had no idea of knowing which. I was standing on the street, barefoot and wearing only a t-shirt. Suddenly, I was aware of how cool the night had gotten. I began walking home, hoping none of my neighbors would see m e in this state of undress. And I knew I would buy a security system in the morning. I realized I didn’t have my keys. The doorman would let me in, I hoped, without commenting too much on the outfit.

I hobbled back, painfully aware that my left calf was now cramping and the lights of my building shone like a beacon of safety, despite the fact that I knew now how unsafe it really was.

I was reaching for the door handle that would bring my into the lights of the lobby when someone stepped out of the shadows. I felt a firm grip wrap around my bicep before I noticed him. The man looked to be about thirty-five, he wore dark jeans and a black t-shirt. The look on his face set my heart racing again, but I tried my best to stay calm.

“Let my arm go,” I said. “Or I’ll scream. And I know for a fact that this building is part of the neighborhood watch program. The police’ll be on your ass in half a minute.”

Even in the half-light, I could see his face curl up in a smirk.

“You don’t want to go back in there,” he said.

“Yeah?” I asked. “Try to stop me, tough guy.”

I pulled open the door and would’ve walked in, if he hadn’t dragged me back. I struggled as he scooped me up, kicking and screaming and trying to beat him with my other fist, but he still managed to haul me across the street.

I’m sure the cops would’ve come. I’m sure someone would’ve been attracted by my screams.

At that moment, however, the front of my apartment building burst into a huge orange fireball.

I froze, mesmerized. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought of all my possessions, now ash, and all of the people I would never see again. The old lady who lived across the hall, with the cute little shih-tzu. The musician who lived on the third floor, who’s drums always kept me up at night. Tina, the seven-year-old who lived two apartments down from me, who I babysat when her mother worked late.

I dimly registered the sound of sirens as the fire trucks pulled up and I looked up to meet the stern, grey-eyed gaze of the man who had saved me.

“I told you not to go in there,” he said.