Fixation

My boyfriend was trying to convince me to stay awake.

“You’re going to regret this tomorrow,” he said through the phone.

I smiled into my pillow. “I’m already regretting it.”

“That was fast.”

“You’ve been talking for twenty minutes.”

“Twenty-two.”

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. “You’re keeping track?”

“I have a reputation to maintain.”

I laughed quietly, pulling the blanket higher over my shoulder. It was late enough that the whole house had gone silent, and the only light in my bedroom came from the screen of my phone. I should have been asleep already. I had an early morning, and he had promised me he would let me get some rest.

He was apparently a liar.

“You know,” I said, “normal boyfriends tell their girlfriends to go to bed.”

“I’m a better boyfriend than normal boyfriends.”

“That sounds like something a normal boyfriend would say.”

“I love you too.”

I smiled.

He always did that. Somehow, no matter what we were talking about, he could turn it into something that made me smile.

“I love you,” I said.

There was a pause on the other end.

Then his voice softened. “You really need to sleep.”

“I know.”

“Put your phone down.”

“You first.”

“I’m not the one who has to wake up early.”

“You’re terrible at this.”

“At what?”

“Being romantic.”

He laughed. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Goodnight.”

I waited for him to hang up first.

He didn’t.

Neither did I.

After a few seconds, he said, “You’re still there.”

“So are you.”

“I wanted to hear you breathe.”

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me. “That is either incredibly sweet or deeply creepy.”

“I’m going with sweet.”

“Convenient.”

“Get some sleep.”

I finally ended the call.

For a moment, I stared at my phone before setting it on the nightstand. The room felt strangely quiet after hearing his voice for so long.

I glanced toward the window.

The curtains were closed, and the glass was barely visible in the darkness. I could just make out the faint outline of the frame beneath them.

I had locked it earlier.

I always locked it.

My boyfriend had reminded me twice tonight, which I had made fun of him for.

I smiled to myself as I pulled the blanket over my head.

Then I closed my eyes.

I fell asleep almost immediately.

Something woke me.

At first, I didn’t know what it was.

I lay still, half buried beneath the blankets, trying to drag myself back into sleep. My room was completely dark now. The lamp was off, my phone screen had gone black, and the house was silent.

Then I heard it again.

A soft click.

My eyes opened.

I stared into the darkness.

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then I noticed the shape near the window.

Someone was standing there.

Every thought disappeared from my mind.

The figure was tall and completely still, standing between my bed and the window with its back turned slightly toward me. The darkness made it impossible to see any details. I couldn’t make out a face, clothes, even the color of whatever it was wearing.

I couldn’t breathe.

My first thought was that someone had broken into the house.

My second was that I was dreaming.

Neither thought made sense.

The window was closed.

The door was locked.

And there was a person standing inside my bedroom.

I stared at the figure, waiting for it to move.

It didn’t.

My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Slowly, carefully, I reached toward the nightstand.

My phone was there.

My fingers closed around it, and I pulled it beneath the blanket. The screen lit up my face.

2:13 a.m.

I unlocked it.

My boyfriend’s name was still near the top of my messages.

I could call him.

I should call him.

My thumb hovered over his name.

Then the figure moved.

Barely.

Its head turned toward me.

I froze.

I couldn’t see its face, but I knew it was looking at me.

The phone nearly slipped from my hand.

I didn’t think anymore. I reached for the lamp.

My fingers found the switch.

I turned it on.

The room filled with light.

The figure was gone.

I sat there, staring at the empty space beside the window.

For several seconds, I couldn’t make sense of it.

There was nowhere to hide.

My closet was across the room. The bathroom door was closed. The bedroom door hadn’t moved.

The window was right there.

I threw the blankets off and climbed out of bed.

My legs felt unsteady as I crossed the room. I kept expecting someone to step out from behind the curtains, or from the closet, or from somewhere I hadn’t thought to look.

Nothing.

I grabbed the curtain and pulled it open.

The window was closed.

I stared at the glass.

Then I checked the lock.

Locked.

I touched it anyway.

It didn’t move.

I checked again, just to be sure.

Still locked.

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

I looked around the room.

Maybe I’d imagined it.

That had to be it.

A nightmare. Sleep paralysis. Some half-awake hallucination.

I let out a nervous breath and rubbed both hands over my face.

“I’m losing it.”

My voice sounded too loud in the quiet room.

I almost laughed.

Then I noticed something on the windowsill.

A small, dark smear.

I leaned closer.

At first, I thought it was dirt. There was barely enough light to see it, even with the lamp on behind me.

I touched it with my fingertip.

It was wet.

I pulled my hand back.

The substance was dark red.

My stomach dropped.

Blood.

I stared at my finger.

Then at the window.

The lock was still in place.

The glass was intact.

There was no way anyone had gotten through it.

I wiped my finger against the edge of the blanket and stepped backward.

My phone buzzed.

I jumped so hard that I nearly screamed.

A message lit up the screen.

You awake?

My boyfriend.

I stared at the words.

For some reason, seeing his name made my chest loosen.

I typed quickly.

Yeah.

The next message appeared almost instantly.

What’s wrong?

I looked toward the window.

The curtains had fallen closed again.

I hadn’t touched them.

I didn’t answer.

I walked over and pulled them apart.

Nothing was outside.

Just the dark glass reflecting my bedroom back at me.

Except for one thing.

For the briefest second, I thought I saw a figure standing behind me in the reflection.

I spun around.

My bedroom was empty.

When I turned back, there was nothing in the window either.

Only my own reflection.