The doorbell rings, and my throat immediately starts to choke. It is raining swiftly, the drops falling on the tin roof making it even more difficult for me to breathe. I can hear his footsteps lingering near my front porch, calling me very softly. My forehead, damp, as if exposed to some drizzle, starts forming droplets of sweat, all perfectly round and ready to drip down. I am trying not to make a sound, and as quietly as a mouse, I swiftly move towards the other end of the atrium. The lights keep flickering, with one bulb lighting just enough to see my hand and the other just hanging in for the show. The door is banging uncontrollably, and so is my heart. The door opens with a loud thud, and I see him. A tall, muscular man, face hidden behind a mask and his hood drawn low, treading across the room, looking for me. He holds a butcher's knife in his right hand and an iron chain in the other. My pulse fades beneath the sound of rain. I know death has found me.
He whistles softly, all while calling out my name, "Lara, where are you?" Rummaging through a pile of clean clothes I folded just this evening, my life has taken a tragic turn within the span of an hour, and I never could've guessed so. He calls me out again, his tone dripping with affection, "Where are you?" "Come to me, sweetheart, you don't have to be scared of me, honey. One slit across your throat and everything will be alright. Come on now, be quick''. I remain silent, my heart pounding against my chest, praying he doesn't spot me, but that's when he does. His eyes lock onto mine, and in that instant, the room dissolves around me. The rain, the flickering lights, even the knife in his hand, all of it blurs.
A month ago, I was standing in the same house, but everything was brighter, warmer. It was 14 July when he first texted me; the day when everything started falling apart. The day was unfolding like any other day, I was laughing at something on the television when my phone buzzed with his text. I should've ignored it, but I didn't; I swiped it open.
14 July :
I am the youngest of three sisters, so naturally, I have been the most pampered and spoiled by my parents and sisters alike. There has been no end to my mischiefs, and yet, I have never been shouted at. Guess being the youngest and growing up in a cocoon of affection has its own perks.
The day starts like any other, with me refusing to go to school because I want to watch the latest episode of my favourite TV show. It's genuinely hilarious; you should watch it sometime.
Anyways, there I am, lying on the couch with a bag of chips and my favourite soda. The episode gets indelibly funny, and I'm laughing hysterically when my phone suddenly buzzes with a text.
"Hey!", the text says.
"Who's this?"
"Hey, I didn't mean to scare you. I am Neil." As soon as I read the name "Neil", I shoot up from my couch and sit up straight. Neil never needs an introduction he's the kind who tells you exactly who he is without saying much at all.
I quickly collect all my confidence and text him back , "hey , what's up ?"
Turns out he texted me only to ask about my best friend Bailey. Ughhh, silly me , I thought I had a chance with him. But, ever since I saw him glancing at her that one day in the hallway, I knew he liked her. One thing that you might not know about me is that I am good at reading cues. Playing a ridiculous number of detective games in your younger days does help a lot when you grow up.
We text back and forth a little and end up deciding to meet tomorrow to plan a surprise birthday party for Bailey. Lucky her being pursued by the hottest guy in school. Plus, he makes everyone feel comfortable, which is why everyone likes him.
It's not that I'm not happy for her; I just… feel a bit bad for myself. It's not like boys have never pursued me, it's just that they've always been the ones with the puniest personalities, the kind who seem to be interested in me only because they couldn't attract anyone else,Maybe everyone assumes that about me.
Bailey wouldn't understand , people like her never have to worry if someone is pretending to like them.
By the time I finish overthinking all of it, the night has slipped into its darkest and most absolute form, I should probably sleep now and not let insecurity and fear command my life.
It's morning again, and I am dragging myself to school. Before leaving, I pop the small white pill the doctor gave me last winter something for "stress and sleeplessness," he had said..
I still don't know if it helps, but Mom insists.
I hate it in the school; I always feel like they don't like me, though they never admit it and look at me as if I am imagining things. They keep talking about me, and I get this weird feeling that they don't want me there. As soon as I enter the hallway, they stare at me long enough just for me to know as if they know something I don't.
I clutch my bag a little tighter when I feel someone tap on my shoulder. I turn around, but whoever it was has already blended back into the hallway crowd. Probably just someone rushing past and bumping into me by mistake.
I shrug it off and keep walking, adjusting the strap of my bag as I head toward my locker. Just another ordinary morning at school.
"LARA!!!!!!!!!"
"BAILEY!!!!!!!!!". There she is , my perfect bestfriend.
"Hey, you called me last evening, what's up?"
"I called you? You've got to be joking."
"I swear you did," Bailey insists, rolling her eyes. For a second, I almost reach for my phone to double-check my call log.
But Bailey loves messing with me, she always has, so I let it go.
"Stop now, I have to tell you something. You know who texted me?"
I freeze for a second, suddenly remembering I nearly spoiled the biggest birthday surprise of her life.
"Who?" she asks, matching my excitement.
"Aaaah, nobody. Come, let's grab a coffee."
"Hey! You're hiding something from me," she nudges my arm. "Tell me who texted you!"
I just shake my head and laugh, steering her toward the café.
The day unfolds as usual, teachers teaching, and me drifting off into all the strange possibilities my mind likes to invent. A few students call my name teasingly, then pretend it wasn't them when I turn around. Someone laughs behind me for a little too long, and I can't shake the feeling there's some joke I'm not in on.
A familiar tightness creeps into my chest, so I reach for the necklace I always wear and let my fingers move along its chain. The moment I start fidgeting with it, the noise inside me softens, just enough to feel like I can breathe again. I am looking forward to meeting Neil, well, even if he texted me just to make sure Bailey's birthday turns out to be perfect.
I meet Neil, and he's just as striking up close as he seems from afar, bright blue eyes, soft hair that keeps falling across his forehead, and the pinkest lips. I shouldn't be describing him like this, especially when I already know he likes Bailey, but I can't help admiring how perfect he seems. Strangely, he told me he saw me in the hallway today and even said hi. I must have missed him; the chaos of the crowd was reverberating through the hall.
Well, he has planned so much for her birthday that I cannot help but feel jealous. A vacation to her favourite countryside farmhouse and it is going to be a two-day trip filled with her favourite food and activities. I pretend to like the idea so he doesn't see that I like him instead. I have always liked him, but I think I will never be the person he plans things for.
It is so bizzare that you might be the strongest, boldest person out there but when love enters your life, you become fragile. Suddenly we are all just people who are waiting to be held, waiting to be heard so we don't have to pretend to be strong. The world knows love to be soft but it makes the weak strong, and the strong weak.
I tell myself that I am happy for them, I repeat it to myself until it sounds true.
The next day, I see Neil in a blue shirt, and he looks like the waters of the ocean. He always looks so wonderful. The same afternoon I spot him with Bailey, they are both chatting and talking so naturally that it seems like they've known each other for ages. They're already comfortable, maybe too comfortable. I walk toward them, ready to tease them about it.
"Hey, what are you guys talking about? Neil when did you change your shirt?", I question. "Lara, Neil was telling me that he has a surprise planned for my birthday.", Bailey says. "Yeah, and what shirt change? This is the one I have been wearing since morning," Neil goes on. "Oh, I must've confused someone else with you. Odd how that guy looked exactly like you."I say, trying to sound as normal as I can.
They keep talking like everything is normal, and Bailey glances at me every now and then, these soft, careful little looks she thinks I don't notice. She's always been that way. Gentle. Kind. Impossible to hate, even when I wish I could.
And maybe that's why it feels so wrong to have these stupid thoughts swirling inside my head.
Because sometimes, when Neil laughs at something I say or stands just a little too close, my heart stutters. Just a tiny, embarrassing skip. I try to ignore it, bury it, but it pushes up like a weed in the cracks.
Wouldn't it be nice… if he was mine?
I know how horrible that sounds. I know. Bailey deserves the world, and thinking about her boyfriend like this makes me feel like something inside me is rotting.
But still, somewhere deep inside, this picture forms of Neil and me together. Like we'd make sense in a way no one ever has with me.
I squash the thought immediately, but it lingers, warm and poisonous at the same time.
Neil says something, and Bailey starts laughing, tucking her hair behind her ear. They look perfect together, a little too perfect, and suddenly I feel like a smudge on the edge of their picture.
I start walking toward my class, pretending I don't hear their voices trailing behind me. My legs feel oddly hollow, and before I can steady myself, my foot catches on nothing, and I crash to the floor.
Bailey gasps. Neil reaches me first.
"Lara — hey, careful," he says, his hand brushing my arm as he helps me up. The accidental brush of his shoulder against mine sends an involuntary shiver up my spine.
"Are you okay?" Bailey asks softly, her eyebrows pulled together.
"Yeah. Just tired," I whisper. My throat feels tight, embarrassingly fragile. I hate how it makes me sound like I might fall apart if someone speaks too loudly.
Neil studies my face. "You sure? You look a little… spaced out."
I force a smile. "I'm fine. Really."
Something's wrong. I can't explain it. There's this faint, crawling sensation at the back of my neck, like someone's eyes are on us on me. It's not dramatic, not like in movies. Just a small, precise sting of awareness.
I keep my head forward.
I don't turn around.
I don't want to know if it's real.
"I'll walk you to class," Neil suddenly says when we get up.
"You don't have to …" I start, but he cuts me off.
"I insist."
Bailey grins, oblivious.
"See? He's nice!"
But when we step into the hallway, the air feels different, heavy.
He walks a little too close.
His shoulder brushes mine a little too often.
And every time his hand swings near mine, it feels deliberate.
"So," he mutters, his voice low again, "did you sleep well?"
A simple question.
Except it sounds like he's asking something else.
Testing me.
My necklace chain digs into my fist from how tightly I'm clutching it.
"Yeah," I lie.
He nods, but he keeps looking at me with that almost-knowing expression.
Like he can see right through my skin. Like he knows I didn't sleep.
Like he knows why.
My pulse stutters.
I finish classes and walk towards home. I can't help but shake the feeling that there is someone behind me. I walk faster.
The footsteps speed up too.
My breath catches in my throat. I don't dare turn around.
Then, "LARA! Hey!"
Neil's voice. Clear. Close.
I spin around, relief flooding me for a split second…
But the street behind me is empty.
No Neil.
No one.
A cold shiver crawls up my back.
I mutter under my breath, trying to steady myself, "My discernment must be off today. That's all."
But the words feel thin, like even I don't believe them.
By the time I am home, it is already dark. I walk in and double-check the locks to make sure they are locked perfectly, or maybe to make sure that I am safe?
I walk to the window, pushing the curtain aside only an inch.
And freeze.
Neil is standing across the street.
Not moving.
Not waving.
Just… standing there, hands in his pockets, body angled almost perfectly toward my house as if he's been waiting for me to look. He doesn't blink. He doesn't shift. He doesn't call out. He just watches.
My heart drums against my ribs. I don't know how long I stand there — seconds, minutes, maybe more — because I can't move, can't breathe, can't even think.
What is he doing here? I feel the need to reach out to him, call him and ask him why he is here, but my throat tightens, and only a squeak comes out.
Then the street light flickers.
And when it brightens —
He's gone. I go straight to my room, lock the door, and crawl under my blanket like a child hiding from monsters.
Except this one…
This one knows my name.
The next day at school, I spot them together again. "Neil… why were you outside my house last night?"
My voice is small, cracked, and almost trembling.
He blinks. Slowly.
Then laughs.
"Outside your house? Lara, I was home the entire evening." He's pretending. He's good at pretending.
Bailey's eyes flick between us. "What's going on?"
"He was there," I insist, but my voice feels weaker now. "I saw him. You were standing on the street and...…..and….. You were looking at me."
Neil softens his tone, almost too gently. "Lara, I wasn't anywhere near your place. Why would I do that?"
And the worst part?
He says it like he's concerned about me.
If Neil wants to scare me, he's succeeding.
And I don't know if I should run from him…
or toward him.
I nod stiffly.
The bell shrieks overhead, slicing through the silence between us. Students pour into the hallway, their chatter swelling around us like static. I step back, putting barely any space between Neil and me.
"Forget it," I mutter. "Maybe I… mixed it up."
Bailey still looks confused. Neil looks relieved. Too relieved.
I don't wait for either of them to say anything else. I slip into the stream of students and let the crowd swallow me whole.
By the time I reach my next class, my heartbeat has steadied, but the unease hasn't. I slide into my seat, drop my bag, and pretend to focus on my notebook.
My phone buzzes with a notification. I check my phone.
"Hey, wanna catch up after class. I think we need to talk.I will wait for you." ~ Neil
My heart starts racing, and the palpitations make my hand shake so vigorously that I drop the phone from my hand. The thud is so loud that the entire class starts looking at me. Please don't look at me — I'm already faltering with eye contact and conversations. I try to speak, but my mouth turns dry, and no words come out.
I want to tell him that I would rather not see him and stay safe than see him and make my already worsening conditions even worse. He has made my life a hell ever since the day he walked in. I am already enveloped in these thoughts when I see him standing in the farthest corner of the corridor. He is looking at me, as if not waiting for an answer but already knowing the reply. The askance way he looks at me sends shivers down my spine.
"Lara… LARA!!! Are you okay?" the English professor looks at me with concern.
"Yes, ma'am, I am alright." Even though I am shivering. My knees are crinkling, and my hands are shaking, just from looking at him from a distance. Ostensibly, he is just here for the reply. I tell myself to calm down and reply to him with an okay. That is when he suddenly disappears. The way he disappears so suddenly makes me wonder if he possesses some powers.
I don't get the chance to understand what just happened. The bell explodes into the silence, jarring me back to reality. My body reacts before my mind does. I pick up my bag and walk out, each step heavier than the last.
Neil meets me while I am busy picking up my fallen books. He appears to be generous, but only I know what a trickster he is.
"Here, be careful." Even though he says this as a concern, it sounds more like a warning to me.
"Why do you keep following me everywhere?" I jab at him.
"I follow you everywhere? Lara, you've got to be joking."
Yes, you do," I fire back. "You were standing outside my house at night, you were in the cavern of the corridor today, and you also texted me to see you today."
"I texted you today, right?" he exhales a sharp breath.
"Show me the message," he demands.
I pick my phone from my pocket knowing I have won this time , there is no way the message could vanish. Not when I saw it with my own eyes. Not when my hands were shaking as I read it.
I open the app but I don't find anything. Only an Okay from my end.
A cold wave rolls through my body, heavier than fear, heavier than confusion. My fingers hover over the screen, scrolling, searching, desperate.
Neil watches every second of my panic.
His arms fold loosely across his chest, as if he's settling in to enjoy the show.
"Anything?" he asks, voice dipped in that fake concern he wears.
"No… I just saw it," I whisper. "It was right here. I swear it was right here.I even replied okay to it. See"
"Lara." His tone sharpens, just slightly. "You're telling me I texted you. And now the message magically disappeared?"
He is right. The message disappeared into thin air, and I have no clue how to prove my point. How to prove that he has been stalking and scaring me every day. He has proven his dexterity once again.
My fingers tighten around the phone until my knuckles ache.
I should say something and accuse him again, but the words cling to my throat, refusing to rise.
"I'm worried about you, Lara," he whispers.
The softness in his voice is a weapon.
And the worst part?
He knows I have nothing left to fight him with.
By the time I reach home that evening, my chest is still tight from the confrontation with Neil. I slam the door behind me and lock it. I shouldn't be this shaken, but I am. My hands won't stop trembling, and every sound outside feels louder than it should. I drop my bag on the floor and go straight to my room, desperate to put a wall between me and the rest of the world.
I sit on my bed, pull my knees to my chest.
He made me look foolish today. And the worst part is… for a second, I almost believed him.
My breathing is uneven, small hiccups of fear slipping through. I wipe my face with my sleeve, trying not to cry again. I tell myself I only need a minute to calm down.
That's when I hear it.
A faint, almost hesitant sound.
A floorboard.
Right outside my room.
The floor is creaking, and someone's heavy footsteps are thudding onto it. Someone is in the house. I freeze instantly, panic sets in, and my throat tightens painfully.
I back away, step by step, until I'm pressed against the opposite wall. My vision blurs as tears prick my eyes. My hand flies to my mouth to stop the scream rising in my throat. Then, just as silently as it appeared, it rises again. Footsteps retreat.
Like he knows I'm too terrified to follow.
I collapse to the floor, gripping my chest, struggling to breathe.
Because there is no way
I imagined this.
My hands are shaky and sweaty, and I am struggling to breathe. With the last amount of courage left in my bones, I crawl to my phone as silently as possible and dial the number that catches my eye first. Bailey.
The phone rings louder, and I cling it tighter to my chest. "Come on Bailey, please pick up, I whisper.
My heartbeat pounds harder, and I'm musing over how everything changed with the arrival of Neil when a sudden burst of rain crashes against the house, sharp and violent. The sound jolts me, flooding the room with a new layer of dread.
"Lara … Hello? LARA?", cries Bailey but I can hardly speak anything. My mouth has become as dry as a desert, and I am trying hard to squeak a sound. I finally manage to mumble a few words, "There is someone in the house, help.'' I struggle with my breath, and every word uttered feels heavy.
"Oh my god, who is there in the house? Hello? Lara? Tell me?" Bailey is panicking on the other end of the phone. Should I tell her that I doubt it's her boyfriend, the so smart and charming Neil? But is the person in, him? I am doubtful too. He always outsmarts me; maybe he will call me a madwoman again. I am sceptical. "Bailey, call Neil, ask him to come over and take me to you ." I am trying to play smart in these moments of fleeting confidence.
I hide under the sheets, hoping for some help to arrive. What a bad day to have working parents. Wait, mother gave me a tablet that she claimed would reduce stress and anxiety. I shouldn't have stopped taking them. The last time I took it was around the 14th of this month. As I am about to pop a pill into my mouth, it falls from my hand and rolls into the distance. I stare at it, and suddenly, the bell rings.
"Lara, Bailey told me there was someone." Neil is here. I am safe now. I finally breathe. But I cannot risk walking out carelessly. The door starts banging uncontrollably. I cannot help but feel relieved, even if it is Neil who is on the other end, even if it is the same stalker whom I have been dreading for the past month. I am forced out of my feelings as I hear a thud.
I see him through the narrow gap between the table legs. Something metallic glistens in his hand. I try to narrow down my vision amidst the blinding light. As I am about to stand my eyes decipher the metallic object. A KNIFE.
I think of the pill.
The small white one. The one meant for overthinking. For when my thoughts run ahead of me.
I almost laugh. This isn't that. This is real.
"Lara, where are you? See, I have come here to help you." The credulity in his voice almost forces me to believe him, but my eyes won't lie. He is here to kill me. The voices in my brain are too loud, but the man in front of me is scarier. "Come to me, Lara. Everything is alright." I am perturbed by the concern in his voice. I try not to make a sound, smother a scream and shut my eyes. When I open them again, he is looking at me, smiling. "I found you, he smiles. I let out a scream. I don't remember deciding to move. My body acts before thought can intervene. My fingers close around the knife in his hand, the metal cold and steady too steady.
If I don't do this now, I will die.
The certainty is absolute. There is no room left for doubt.
I drive the knife into him.
He gasps not in rage but in shock. For a brief, unbearable second, his eyes meet mine, wide and human and confused. Then he falls.
I am safe now.
Instantly, the sirens start, and I hear a scream. "NEIL ...", Bailey screams, pushing me to the side. "What did you do ….????"Bailey starts screaming at me. "He tried killing me; he had a knife in his hand.'' I retort. "You fool,'' she sobs." He came here to save you.''
'' But I swear he tried killing me.'' and the officers cuff my hands.
The pill is still on the floor when they lead me out. I step over it carefully. I don't need it anymore.