Guest

While unpacking the hallway closet, I heard someone say, "Open the door." I approached the door. The hallway beyond was quiet. I was about to leave when my hands moved of their own accord, feeling for the door.

"Let me in," the voice grew louder and more confident.

I shuddered, as if I'd touched something unpleasant. I jumped back from the door and pressed my hands to my chest, shaking slightly. Taking a step back, I felt the apartment fill with a foul odor.

"Open the door for me, quickly..."

Before I realized it, I stepped forward, turned the handle, and pushed the door several times. The locks are locked, I thought, and only after that thought did I realize what I was trying to do. I imagined opening the door and letting in whatever was behind it. A shudder ran through me. I jerked, trying to move away from the door, but my body wouldn't obey.

 "Why won't you open the door for me?" Someone started crying behind the door. It sounded like someone used to growling was trying to whine.

"Don't be afraid, open up. I'm your friend..."

My body wouldn't obey me at all. I unhooked the chain and opened the top lock. Whatever was behind the door was in a hurry, and it was transmitted to me. My hands began tugging wildly at the locks and the handle, trying to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. I tried to call for help, but my scream died away, turning into a croak.

"Let me in. You don't want to be alone, do you..."

At that moment, I felt sick at the thought of how alone and unwanted I was. I wanted to cry with grief, but somewhere deep down, I held the hope that everything could be fixed. I just need to open the door...

"Why are you hesitating?.."

I rushed around in a panic. I need to let my friend in. I need to do this now, or he'll leave.

"No, don't go, I'll be right back..."

I examined the door. Of course, how could I forget—the last lock only opened with a key, and the key was in my room.

"I'll be right back," I repeated and ran into the room.

The urge to open the door enveloped me. Everything was a blur. I groped my way to the room and found the key. Then a flash of pain followed—I hit my toes on the bathroom door. I had the key in my hand, and I was walking toward the front door. I fell, shaking with fear. A few more steps and the door would be open.

"Hurry..."

The trembling stopped, and I began to rise. My body was losing control again. With my last bit of strength, I threw the keys into the toilet and flushed.

A wave of despair washed over me. I wouldn't be able to let the guest in. I'd be left alone, unwanted, worthless. With that thought, I collapsed on the floor and burst into tears. I cried, banged my fists on the door, and rolled around for hours, and then suddenly it was all over. I sat down on the floor and laughed. I was overwhelmed with joy just thinking about being alive.

I don't know what was coming and standing behind my door back then, but from time to time it returns. I sense these days in advance. I have a safe with a timer in my apartment. I lock myself in the house, put all the keys in the safe, and wait. When the voice sounds and "overwhelms" me, I crawl on the floor and cry from the thought of not being able to open the door. By morning, I'm free. I've sought help, visited witch doctors, went to church, moved, but all in vain. Once a month, he still comes.