Stranger That Almost Killed Me

Dear stranger that just knocked on my door,

I thought you were going to kill me. The instant I saw you through the peep-hole I was scared for my life.

Of course the rational part of my brain fought me and I opened the door. I saw your sweet smile, the humble eyes, and the gentleness in your voice. You were nice. But I was afraid.

You simply gave me something to deliver to my parents but I was suspicious since you knew I was home alone. It didn’t matter that my parents knew you; I didn’t.

What I knew was I couldn’t defend myself. Not against someone as tall as you. Even your gentlest touch could crush me and I knew that. You were strong and I was weak.

Thank goodness you left. But I stood at the door listening to the rumblings of your plastic bag.

Suspicion rose again in me that you were just outside. Of course the slight movement of the lock didn’t help. I had never heard it do that before so it had to be you. You were plotting to kill me now that it was confirmed that I was home alone. It would’ve been easy (was it not for the locked door).

But my suspicion overtook my fear and I tip toed to the peep-hole once again. Putting each foot carefully in front of the other to make sure you didn’t hear me shuffle. I was sure you were outside, with a huge wicked grin on your face. I even imagined it in those few milliseconds between me and the door.

As I approached the peep-hole several thoughts ran in my head. What were you doing with a plastic bag? Why did you want to kill me? Why had you not left? Why did you come at this odd hour? How did you know my parents weren’t home? What were you going to do to me? WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO?!

My eye met the glass and what I saw then was something I couldn’t unsee again. It was my own crazy. As if the glass was reflecting the preposterous me. Because all I could see was the beautiful dark blue carpet of my building. Not you.

So dear stranger that just knocked on my door, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for thinking you were some crazy, twisted man with no good intentions at all. I’m sorry for fearing you. You were nothing but nice. I was nothing but crazy.

Why I behaved like that? I don’t know.

No, I won’t blame the world. Of course it is my own twisted brain. Perhaps watching all that news has me crazy or the gloomy weather making me think negative. Or maybe all the thrillers I watch. But I said I won’t blame the world, so I won’t. It’s my own psyche that conjures up these malicious thoughts. Not you my dearest stranger.

Yours,

Stranger on the other side of the door.

This post is written for WordPress’ Writing 101 topic: reinvent the letter.