(18+) Someone in the dark

Ch. 11: Mirrors

I stirred in my sleep when I noticed a dip in the mattress as if someone laid down next to me. Totally imaginary of course, but it felt surprisingly real.

"Don't be scared."

My eyes flew up when I heard the soft whisper in my ear. It was real! Or was it? I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not, but the firmness of a chest against my back felt strangely comforting. I looked around and saw that I was still in my room, but there was definitely someone here with me. And I knew who that someone was. I smelled his cologne.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, more confused than ever. He tucked some of my hair aside so he could caress my cheek, and my eyes closed from the warmth that exploded inside me. It was like I'd been out in the cold for too long and finally was allowed to come in and sit in front of the fireplace.

The same hand reached around me and entangled with my own as he pulled me closer, but when I looked down, I could only see mine.

"Why can't I see you?" I asked when he didn't answer my question. And his reply was a flickering transformation similar to the one you see on a chameleon. That made me smile, and I think he was, too. So I slowly turned to look at him and felt shy when he pulled me close again.

"You said your name was Joe."

I withdrew just enough so I could see his beautiful smile, and I never believed in the expression "drowning in someone's eyes" until now. Because I really was swimming in his depthless, soul-searching ones while my body relaxed and let go of all the pent-up tension. I felt revived.

"It is. It's my middle name."

I rolled my eyes and felt stupid. Of course it was. Why didn't I think of that?

"What do you want from me?" I asked. Then I corrected myself. "What does the house want from me?"

He looked away for a moment and looked sad, but he didn't say anything.

"Why can't I call my mom?"

"You can't leave," he said eventually, answering a question I didn't even dare ask myself. The cold stone that was about to warm up in my stomach suddenly felt heavier and more suffocating than ever.

"What do you mean, can't leave?" I asked, remembering the man in overalls outside saying the same thing.

"You can't leave. It needs you."

He couldn't hold my gaze anymore.

"The house needs me? I thought I was here for you?"

I saw the briefest smile brush over his features and longed to see him happy again.

"They need your energy."

"Who needs my energy?" I asked for what probably was the thousand times and I actually felt a bit annoyed. I still appreciated when he pulled me closer and kissed my forehead. It was almost like we'd been friends for a very long time. Or maybe even more. I had to remind myself that I didn't know him. We'd barely met and hardly ever talked. Then why did it feel so right?

"You can't leave. Ever. I'm sorry."

He looked guilty, but my instinct told me he had nothing to be sorry for. That whatever happened between these walls wasn't his fault. Was he a prisoner, too? Because I sure felt like one.

"What do you mean? Please answer me," I pleaded, but his sad frown made me regret asking. Maybe he did it to protect me? But from what?

"The less you know, the better."

There it was again. Those were the exact same words I heard yesterday from the stranger that appeared out of nowhere and disappeared between the bushes.