The Stranger - A Note From the Author

The Stranger is based on a recurring dream I have. The man breaks into my apartment, follows me to the fire escape in my bedroom, and then I wake up. This dream started happening within the last year. Upon some research and discussion, it seems the significance of the dream is that I am trying to escape my stress. This feels accurate based on the amount of stress I encountered. This is not my only recurring dream, but it has been the most violent and sweat inducing. 

My favorite part of the story is actually the ending. I debated how to end the story in order to leave the reader pondering on what the truth is. When having recurring dreams, sometimes it takes a minute to come back to reality.

In The Stranger, maybe the main character is in a dream within a dream or maybe the dream is coming true. You choose.

The Stranger - PART III

I run into the bedroom and close the door. There is no lock on it. I grab the wooden chair and jam it under the doorknob. I hope that works, I see it in the movies all the time. I wish I could have booby-trapped my apartment like Kevin in Home Alone. But in my defense, Kevin had time to prepare. Me? I’m just figuring it out as I go. 

I hear a huge crash from the hallway. He’s inside.

I have to think about my options. I grab my phone and connect it to the charger, maybe I’ll be able to dial the police and get help. The phone starts charging but it can’t turn on yet.

I hear footsteps running down the hallway and my door starts shaking. He will be inside my bedroom in no time, the only thing stalling him is that dumb chair.

The fire escape! I live on a third floor and never thought I’d need to use it so the windowsill is filled with little trinkets. I toss everything to the floor and turn the lock. I try to lift the window but it’s stuck. You have got to be kidding me.

The door caves in and I see two hands push the door the rest of the way to move the chair. He’s inside. The stranger's face is in full view. I seriously have no idea who this man might be.

I use all my strength to lift the window. Whatever was blocking the lock breaks and the window finally budges. I’ll make it.

I climb up the windowsill to crawl out of the window. Suddenly, the stranger is standing right next to me. 

I scream at the top of my lungs.

I open my eyes and I’m lying on my bed in a pool of sweat. What the hell just happened? Everything is quiet, all I can hear is the wind crashing against my window. I get up and look around my bedroom, there is nothing out of place and my phone is atop my desk plugged into its charger. I make my way outside my bedroom and my hallway is quiet and intact. 

That was one of the most vivid dreams I have had to date. Who in the world was that guy? The mind is a weird thing.

I head over to the bathroom. My hair is a mess, all frizzy from being soaked in sweat. I dunk my face into a handful of cold water. Man, I’m exhausted but also scared to go back to sleep.

I turn the hallway light on and walk over to the apartment door just to make sure it’s locked. Everything is in its place. I stand there for a while and just feel silly. I walk back down the hall and turn off the lights. Time for bed.

Suddenly, I hear the doorknob rattle.

The Stranger - PART II

I hurry back to my bedroom to see if there is anything I can use for protection. Piles of clothes, a yoga mat, books. Gosh, could I seriously not have thought of keeping something in my bedroom for a time like this? There is nothing. Nothing. Why did I never think about keeping a bat around?

I run into the bathroom and take a look around there. The towel rod! I throw the towel onto the floor and pull out the rod. It’s freaking plastic. I toss it on the ground on top of the towel.

My cellphone! I look at the desk in my bedroom where I leave it for the night but it’s not there. I scan the room, it’s nowhere to be found. The couch! I rush to the living room and toss all the pillows around until I find the phone in between the cushions. I touch the screen repeatedly and it stays black. I push the side button and get the little battery flashing with a thin red line, it’s out of battery. That makes sense because I played games all afternoon before my nap. Out of all the days I had to forget to charge it this night.

I run toward the apartment door and I see the door shaking as someone must be pushing it from the outside in an attempt to break the lock. “Who are you?” I shout. No response. But now the doorknob is rattling loudly and I know it might not hold for long. 

I see the small home bar and slide it in front of the door. “Leave my house!” I shout. Are the neighbors not hearing any of this commotion? The push of the door is now making the home bar sway from side to side. Whoever this is, they really want to get in.

I stand there just watching the door push in a bit further with every blow. Bang. There is nothing for me to do. Bang. Do I have any large knives in the kitchen? Bang. I run over and open the drawers, there’s a huge steak knife, but I don’t think I would be able to actually stab anyone, just the thought of my hand holding a piece of metal and sliding it into someone’s flesh. Bang. No, I just can’t do it, I put the knife back. Bang. I peer out the kitchen door, down the small foyer, and the door that’s caving in. Bang. Bang. Bang. The home bar sways forward and crashes onto the floor. 

The door is ajar but the chain is still on. I see a man’s face peer through the opening - light skin, dark curly hair, mustache. I have never seen this man before in my life. He reaches his arm in to remove the chain, but after a couple of tries he realizes that he won’t be able to. Instead he gives the door a few more pushes until the screws on the door chain start to make their way out of the wall. The door is still not free, though, because the home bar is lying across the floor, blocking it from opening further.

I’m trapped.

…

When you’re a child your parents usually try to do everything they can to protect you. Protect you from harm, heartbreak, and the truth. My parents taught me to walk home in a group, never leave my drink unattended, and to always tell someone where I’ll be if going to a new place or with a new person. They told me to stay away from strangers, but not about the ones breaking into your apartment in the middle of the night.

I’m frozen. The door will give in anytime now. I watch this stranger trying to force his way into my apartment. What did I do to him? Does he know me from somewhere? Has he been following or watching me and I just didn’t notice? Is he going to kidnap me or just hurt me here? How will he hurt me?

My mind is circling, endless possibilities. I have to focus. None of those questions matter at this moment because knowing the answers won’t be able to help me right now. I need to focus on what I can control.

The only thing I can do now is escape. 

—

The Stranger - PART I

The water is bright blue, nearly transparent, highlighting the shells and rocks atop the bed of sand underneath. The blue goes on for miles until it blends with the blue of the sky, as if the ocean curves upward and wraps around. I sit at the shoreline with my toes submerged, waves crashing against my thighs. The waves are a bit too harsh for such a nice day. I hear a thud and turn around, the beach is completely empty. Another thud. I open my eyes slightly and see the book vase holding plastic blue hydrangeas by the window. I’m back in my bedroom. The thud is louder this time, it’s coming from the upstairs neighbors. I swear they move furniture around on a daily basis. The sun is setting and the remnants of the light sneak through the cracked blinds. Time to get up. I feel like I only slept 20 minutes, but it seems I took an almost two hour nap. I wish I could lie here for days. A big dinner is out of the question. I need a quiet night and a light snack.

The most relaxing part of my night is just sitting alone on my comfy couch, wrapped in my blanket, watching a movie. I stare at the screen filled with rows of boxed images of movies. I scroll to the list of horror films - babysitters killing people, clowns that stalk you in the night, a home with a sinister presence. I love scary films but these have all been done a million times over. It’s disappointing. I scroll to the thriller section, these are more promising at least - women who think there is someone following her, women getting kidnapped, women who are not believed and made to be insane, women who are sneakily trying to steal men and get revenge for being taken advantage of. Funny actually, where are the crazed men in all these films? I scroll right past the romance section because let’s be serious, that’s the most disturbing genre, it terrifies me.

I give up and decide to watch an episode of Psych, because who doesn’t love the antics of Shawn and Gus solving crime while making hilarious references to classic shows and movies and being as awesome as you wish you could be as an adult. Air popped corn and a square of dark chocolate, the perfect side dish. 

Gus stops cold at the entrance to the room and refuses to break the plane of the mummy, when I suddenly hear a shuffle outside my door. I brush it off and grab a few more popcorn flakes. I laugh as Shawn tries to evade the lens of the camera to find a blind spot. I hear the shuffle again and just cease moving, a mouthful of popcorn. I reach for the remote and press pause. I instinctively silence my phone. I sit as quietly as possible and listen closely. I hear nothing. Silence. After a minute or so, I make my way to the apartment door and slightly peep through the hole. I see no one, just the distorted doors of the apartments down the hallway. I stand still, waiting to see if any other sounds can be heard. 

I hear footsteps down the stairs. My heartbeat quickens. I look around to see what I can grab, but there is nothing. I am suddenly terrified to stare through the peephole again. The footsteps get closer. I move my face against the door and barely lift the latch to the hole opener. The small crease allows me to still see the entire hallway. 

I hear another step and the volume increases. Another one, and louder. All of a sudden, a leg comes into view. I slightly jump back but find the courage to keep watching. A woman appears on my floor but just keeps going as she just passes through to continue going downstairs. The footsteps now get further away. 

Sigh. Such a relief. I take a long breath and shake my head as I laugh. I can be such an idiot sometimes. Who knows, maybe there’s simply a rat in the wall. This is New York after all.

I make my way back to the couch. My heartbeat slows down. I grab my popcorn and press play. I cackle loudly as the security guard is scared by Gus rushing out the door.

I wish I could stay up all night like I did when I was younger - feeling like I had all the time on earth to just lose myself in fictional worlds. But alas, youth is truly wasted on the young. So I tidy up, brush my teeth, wash the dishes, feed the fish, turn the lights off, and settle into bed.

…

A thud awakens me. What the hell was that? I think to myself. I hear metal. I slip silently out of bed and slowly open the bedroom door to avoid creaks. My apartment hallway is empty. I turn on the hallway light and look around. Everything is fine. Maybe I was dreaming it all after the scare earlier in the evening. It could also have just been another shuffle from the upstairs neighbors. Those people are so loud.

I turn the hallway light back off and start heading back into the bedroom. I hear metal shaking. That is the knob on my front door, no question about it. My eyes are wide open now. My ears are listening intently. My mind is on full alert.

There is definitely someone outside of my apartment door trying to open it. This is someone trying to harm me. I need to think as quickly as possible and prepare myself for the worst.

—