Chapter 1
I've been in my new apartment for a few weeks now – and I have a problem – I'm not alone but I'm supposed to be. This was going to be my new life after 7 years of marriage, a new apartment, new life, new job, new City – none of these new plans included a night time visitor, and an invisible night time visitor at that.
The Beginning.
My name is Laurie, 26 years old, recently divorced, shoulder length blonde hair, 5ft6inch, average build, I fit into a size 12.
I felt something when I went to view the 4th floor apartment but the price and location were just too good to let a 'feeling' get in the way. Really, in reflection I should have listened to my inner voice because in the few weeks I've lived here things have started to get a little strange.
First was the hot water kettle, I like to have a cup of coffee in the morning before going to my job at a busy accountants office, I was finding that the kettle had been turned on and boiled before I had even entered the kitchen. I thought I'd left the kettle plugged in and the thing was malfunctioning – however it did mean that I didn't have to hang around waiting for the kettle to boil and it was happening every morning – including this morning when I'd left the kettle on the other side of the kitchen, unplugged – but here I was pouring boiled water into my instant coffee from a kettle I hadn't boiled. I'd also found cold spots in an otherwise warm apartment. I was having one of those moments where you know things aren't right but you're really trying to act as though they are.
The boiled kettle was the least of my worries now though. This morning in the shower, I'd been touched. I'd felt what was like a finger slide down my spine, very lightly but from the top of my neck to the bottom of my bum. And I'd reacted, Oh yes, I'd reacted – jumping nearly out of my skin, unfortunately in a slippery bath, I'd also gone down very hard on my left shoulder and hitting my head on the side of the bath. I'd laid there in the bath for a few seconds with the shower water pounding down on me before I realised that the water had been turned off, I knew I hadn't turned it off.
So here I stood in my kitchen, in my bathrobe, with a thumping headache, aching arm, feeling like death warmed over making myself a coffee from a kettle I hadn't boiled. I stopped and looked around the kitchen. I shook my head.
"I'm going mad!"
I muttered as I walked into the main living room, I reached for the phone, hit the speed dial that would take me straight to the office.
"Hi Jean, can you tell Mr Proctor I won't be in today, I'm not feeling well"
I spoke quietly into the mouthpiece of the phone, trying not to aggravate any of my aching bits!
"Ok thanks Jean"
I hung up the phone and stared at it for a second. I tried to make sense of what had happened and I couldn't. The kettle shouldn't be boiling by itself, my apartment shouldn't have cold spots and I most definitely shouldn't be feeling an invisible someone touching me up in the shower. I looked around me, everything looked so normal, sunlight just starting to come though the windows of the main living room, looking sunny and warm on what was a clear and crisp Friday January morning. I glanced at the wall clock, 8.30am.
The rest of the day passed without incident – I'd got dressed, sat and watched daytime TV as I'd eaten my breakfast of cereal, sat and read for a while, using an icepack on my shoulder – which had turned into an ugly blue bruise, my headache had vanished thanks to some strong painkillers. But still there was a knot of apprehension in the pit of my stomach, there was an atmosphere in the apartment that was getting stronger as darkness was approaching. It was making me nervous. I started to jump at the smallest of sounds.
"Get a grip Laurie"
I said quietly to myself wondering if I'd hit my head harder than I'd realised. By 4.00pm I'd had enough, irritable and feeling sick with nerves I pulled the drapes closed over all the windows, shut myself off from the outside world and put all the lights on in the apartment – now that was new, I scolded myself for acting like a child and quickly turned the lights off I didn't need on. It didn't change the atmosphere in the apartment, it was as though something was waiting. I didn't want to feel like this in my new home.
By 6.30pm, my headache had returned with a vengeance. Holding a replenished icepack to my head, I made my way to my bedroom, turning lights off as I went, until the only illumination was in my bedroom. I crossed the room, pulling the blinds down over the windows and pulling the drapes, I like to sleep in pitch-black so I'd added blinds over the windows in my bedroom as well as drapes. I went to the bathroom, using the toilet and brushing my teeth, my headache a blinding ache that had spread to my shoulders. Gratefully, I moved back into my bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind me. I only needed a little lie down until the extra painkillers I'd taken could kick in. I stripped my clothes off and put my short sleep t-shirt on, taking only seconds to turn the lights off, plunge the room into darkness and lie on top of my quilt covered bed. The darkness enveloped me.
I was dreaming, I moaned. I was lying on my stomach, my arms loose at my sides, I could feel firm fingers kneading the muscles at the back of my neck under my T-shirt, down onto my shoulders, carefully working their way round the vivid blue bruise on my left shoulder but finding all the tight spots of tension and ache. Unconsciously I moved a little craning my neck and hands made their way to the base of my neck again, fingers gentle but insistent. It took another second to realise that I wasn't dreaming and as my eyes shot open, I knew I wasn't alone and that a very real pair of hands was massaging my neck and back. I heard a whisper
"Laurie"