Lilou

The silence woke her, she sprang up in bed, a light veil of sweat all over her body. She squinted about in the dark. Why’s it so quiet? I left the bubbler on.

She reached for the reading lamp, fumbling for the switch. She reached it but there was someone’s hand already there. She flew across the room, barely noticing the blinds she closed before bed wide open. In the darkness, she ran her hands across surfaces, trying to find something, Anything, a potential weapon.

Her fingertips brushed up against something cold and graspable. She lifted it and placed it squarely before her, barely registering what it was as the lamp flickered on, its light straining against the firm embrace of the dark.

A man.

A man sat in her bed, inches away from where her head previously lay, looking at her passively, his hand still on the lamp. She noted he was in a tailored grey suit that matched his eyes. He looked at her, stunned and suddenly annoyed.

“Ah! Crap, not you again” he spat, running a hand through his hair.

She squeaked, then the words started to pour from her lips “who are you? How did you – wait, what do you mean by ‘again’?”  Her knees had started to do things that only jelly could.

He got up and brushed off his suit, stretching to an impressive length, walked over and swatted the hairspray canister from her hand. His sterling eyes locked in on her browns.

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” A devilish grin tugged at his lips as he tipped her chin up with his fingers.

“And after all these years you’ve escaped me. Hmm.”

She froze, stepped back, bumped into a vase, sending it hurtling to the ground. In her mind, events fluttered.

DEATH.

He smiled at her again, fading out. In the air above her hung his heavy parting words.

“Not this time, Lilou.”

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