Fatal Attraction

That night, anxiety kept me from sleeping. Every creak in the wood, every whisper of the wind felt like a threat. But when I opened my eyes in the middle of the night, I knew it wasn’t my imagination this time. Someone was in the room. My body tensed before I could even see the silhouette. And then I saw him, standing at the foot of my bed, his face so close to mine I could feel his breath.

—Sebastián? What the hell are you doing here? —I shouted, sitting up abruptly.

My mind was racing, trying to process the impossible. How had he gotten in? How long had he been standing there? Terror turned into a surge of pure adrenaline.

—Don’t be afraid —he said, placing his hands on my shoulders—. I don’t want to hurt you.

I sat up, my heart pounding violently in my chest. He tightened his grip on my shoulders, trying to keep me down.

—You don’t want to hurt me? You’re in my house, in the middle of the night! Get out right now!

—I just want to talk, Alexander. I need you to understand...

I took advantage of his distraction to push him and get up. I stepped back, searching for an escape, my back hitting the wall.

—Understand what? —I shouted—. That you’re stalking me? That you’ve been invading my life for weeks?

His face tensed, but he didn’t back away.

—It’s not like that. I... I love you, Alexander. All of this is for you, for us.

His voice trembled on the last word. I stared at him in disbelief. There was something in his expression that froze me. Something broken. Something beyond reason.

—Love me? —I whispered, a knot forming in my throat—. Sebastián, this isn’t love. It’s a sick obsession. You need help.

For the first time, something seemed to make him hesitate. He stood still, as if my voice had pierced through the delusion he was trapped in. His eyes darkened with something I couldn’t identify. Pain. Anger. Fear. But he didn’t look away.

I saw my chance and ran to the door. Just as my hand touched the handle, I felt his grip on my arm.

—Don’t leave! —his voice broke in pure desperation.

I struggled with all my strength.

—Let me go, Sebastián. This has to end!

Some days before...

From the beginning, my world had been calm. Everything had its rhythm, its order, its space. I liked observing things from a distance, analyzing without getting too involved. There was something comforting about that distance, as if nothing could affect me too much.

That day, the air smelled of wet earth, and the leaves of the trees rustled in the wind, making a sound that had always seemed relaxing to me. I sat on a park bench with a book in my hands. Reading had always been my favorite escape; it helped me disconnect from the noise of the world, to lose myself in stories where everything made sense.

But this time, something caught my attention.

I looked up and saw him. He was there, not far away, staring at no particular point. His posture was rigid, as if he didn’t want to be where he was, as if he were trapped in his own head. There was something about him that clashed with the rest of the park, with people strolling, with children running. It was as if the whole world weighed on his shoulders.

I don’t know why, but I wanted to approach him. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe something else I couldn’t name. So I stood up and walked toward him, feeling the weight of each step.

—Hi. May I sit here? —I asked with a smile, not wanting to seem intrusive.

He took a moment to respond, as if it were hard for him to land in the conversation.

—Uh... yes, of course —he said, his voice low, somewhat rough.

—Thank you. My name is Alexander —I introduced myself, sitting calmly beside him.

He seemed to hesitate for a second before responding.

—Sebastián Mori —he murmured.

I nodded, repeating his name in my head.

—It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sebastián —I said sincerely.

I didn’t expect him to talk much, so I simply started commenting on random things: the weather, the book I was reading, how pleasant the park was. I wasn’t trying to fill the silence, just giving him the option to stay or leave without pressure.

And although he didn’t say much, something in his expression changed, just a little. As if for a moment, his world became a bit less heavy. That was enough for me.

I closed the door to my apartment with a sigh, letting the keys fall onto the entryway table. The silence greeted me with its usual familiarity, wrapping around me like a light blanket. I liked it. There was something comforting about returning to a space that was solely mine, where everything was in its place, where there were no unexpected noises or uncomfortable conversations. I walked to the kitchen and started the coffee maker. I love the aroma of coffee with milk filling the air as I prepared a toast with strawberry jam. Automatic movements, repeated so many times that my body executed them without thinking. My life was predictable, perhaps monotonous, but that routine gave me a sense of control I wasn’t willing to change.

After breakfast, I went to the desk by the window and opened my notebook. I didn’t have a concrete purpose for writing, just the need to empty my mind onto the paper. Let the words settle as they wished, without any plan. The ink flowed easily, reflecting scattered thoughts, fleeting images I didn’t want to forget. When I realized the time, I looked out the window for a moment, observing the elongated shadows on the sidewalk. It was one of my favorite times of the day, when the sun filtered between buildings and the city seemed to take a breath before the night enveloped it completely.

But today something felt different; I couldn’t say what. Maybe the way the light flickered against the car windows, or how the wind seemed to move erratically among the trees. I felt a tingling at the nape of my neck, a strange sensation of being watched. It wasn’t the first time it happened to me, but I had never found a real reason. I always ended up telling myself it was my imagination playing tricks on me, unfounded paranoia. Even so, I shifted in my chair and closed the notebook, trying to ignore the unease that had settled in my chest.

I decided to go out to clear my mind. I put on a light jacket and walked aimlessly until my steps led me to the park. It was my escape place, a site where I could lose myself among the sound of the leaves moving with the wind and the distant murmur of people passing by. I sat on a bench under a tree and took out the notebook again, letting my thoughts flow without restrictions. Little by little, the tranquility of the surroundings enveloped me, dissipating the uncomfortable sensation that had pursued me earlier. In that instant, there was nothing more than me, my pen, and the world reduced to a few lines on the paper.

I kept writing, losing myself in the words, in the ink strokes that slid easily across the page. The cool breeze caressed my face, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. The park had that effect on me. It was a small refuge within the city, a space where I could be alone without feeling trapped between walls.

But then, something distracted me. I looked up and felt a slight shiver run down my back. I didn’t know what it was at first, just an intuition, a twinge of awareness that something didn’t fit. My gaze slid across the park, passing by the trees, the paths, the few people still walking around. And that’s when I saw him.

I didn’t know why I noticed him among the rest. Maybe it was his posture, too rigid, or the way he seemed to stay on the periphery, always at the edge of my field of vision. I wasn’t sure if he was looking directly at me, but something about his presence unsettled me. However, instead of feeling uncomfortable, I smiled, more out of instinct than anything else. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just someone who, like me, was seeking a moment of peace in the park.

I shook my head and returned to my notebook, letting the sensation dissipate little by little. I focused on writing, on shaping my thoughts without allowing the distraction to seep into them. Several minutes passed before I decided that it was enough for today. I closed the notebook with a soft snap and stood up, stretching slightly before taking the path back home.

The air had cooled a bit with the setting sun, and the city’s lights were beginning to turn on little by little. I walked calmly until I reached my building, but before entering, I paused for a second at the door. I didn’t know why. Maybe I was expecting something. Maybe I wanted to confirm that my earlier sensation hadn’t just been my imagination.

I looked toward the street and saw him again.

He didn’t move, didn’t make any gesture. He was just there.

I frowned slightly and crossed my arms. I didn’t like coincidences.

—Why are you always around here?

The boy tensed, as if he hadn’t expected me to speak to him.

—What do you want from me? —I asked again, keeping my voice calm but not taking my eyes off him.

This time, his reaction was even stranger. He didn’t respond. He seemed to be searching for words, but none came to his lips.

—Do I know you from somewhere?

He took a small step back and shook his head. It was quick, as if my question had taken him by surprise.

Something in his eyes made me feel uncomfortable, but not in a negative way. It was more... strange. As if I were seeing something I shouldn’t. As if, for an instant, I had crossed an invisible wall he had tried to build between us.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the conversation fall between us like an invisible wall. There was no point in insisting.

—Alright... good night —I murmured before turning and entering the building.

I didn’t look back.

But that night, as I prepared to sleep, I couldn’t help but think about him. About his expression, the way he had reacted, the feeling of having seen him more than once, without knowing where or when.

And for the first time in a long time, I had the strange certainty that someone, somewhere, knew more about me than I knew about him.

Hello, and thank you for reading. This is my first novel written in English. While I’ve done my best, some parts were translated with the help of translation tools, so there may be occasional inaccuracies or awkward phrasing. I sincerely apologize for any errors and truly appreciate your understanding—and any feedback you may wish to share. I hope you enjoy the story.

May Rodríguez.