Someone Has Been Here...

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the two cups of tea.

One was still warm.

I don't know how long I had been standing there staring at that small piece of paper beside them.

The handwriting was familiar.

Too familiar.

I picked it up.

My stomach tightened.

I read it again.

And again.

“We're here Anira”

I couldn't understand what it meant.

I looked around the kitchen. Everything was exactly as I had left it, except for those two cups and the note.

I picked up my phone.

For a moment, I thought about calling my mother.

Then I stopped.

It was still very early in the morning.

I put the phone down and tried to convince myself that there had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. Maybe one of my friends had somehow got into the apartment. Maybe someone was playing a stupid prank on me.

But deep down, I knew that wasn't true.

I checked the kitchen windows. There was no sign of entry. Finally I went to my bedroom.

I barely slept.

Then, sometime during the next hour, I heard it.

A knock.

Three slow knocks on my front door.

I sat upright in bed.

For a few seconds, I simply listened.

Nothing.

Then came another knock.

I reached for my phone.

It was half past six in the morning.

And just as I was about to get out of bed, my phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.

“Don't open the door.”

I froze.

Another knock.

Louder this time.

I stared at the message, my heart pounding.

Then I typed:

“Who is this?”

The reply came almost immediately.

“It's your mother. Don't open the door. I'm still on my way.”

I stopped breathing for a moment.

My mother?

My parents lived miles away in the village, I recalled again.

And then I remembered something that made the blood drain from my face.

I remembered that I actually did call my mother the previous night.

But I had absolutely no memory of the conversation.

I checked my phone.

There was a call lasting 17 minutes.

And the last message from my mother said:

“We're coming, Anira. You asked us to.”

But this message was from my parents' phone rather than the unknown number.

My heart sank.

Another knock came.

This time, a voice followed.

“Anira... open the door. I know you're in there.”

I didn't recognise the voice. I couldn't even tell whether it was a man or a woman speaking in such a hushed tone.

I backed away from the bedroom door.

I didn't know what was outside.

But for the first time, I was certain of one thing.

Whatever had been leaving the cups, moving the furniture and writing those notes...

had finally come to the door...

---

Part 2

_{To be continued}

_{Link to Part 1}