Trapped in Time

I looked through the window again, the figure still there, glaring back at me. It was him again. It was always him, watching me from the distance and judging my every move. Yet, I did not know who he was. I looked again, adrenaline slowly pulsating through my body like an intruder. He looked straight back. As soon as our eyes met, I looked away and stood up, needing to pace around the room.

I paced. Who was he? I paced. Why was he there? I paced. Why did he keep coming back to watch me? I stopped. I wanted to check again if he was real. If I hadn’t imagined it all. If there really was a man standing next to my car at four o’clock in the morning, staring through my window.

I took out my phone and called my mum. I wanted to hear her voice. She didn’t pick up. Then again, it was four in the morning. Why did I even think she would answer?

I paced. The adrenaline turned my thoughts into vivid mirages that flashed before me, not allowing me to think. I paced. It felt as though my actions were always being watched. I paced, faster. Maybe they were. The walls of the room pressed in upon me, crushing me between them. Trapping me. I felt afraid. Confused. So, I paced.

Until I couldn’t anymore. I ran back to the window and saw the figure once again. He hadn’t moved. I couldn’t make out his face, but he was tall and had dark features. He had been there for hours now. I needed him to leave. I grabbed my jacket and ran downstairs.

I moved toward the door, adrenaline no longer an imposter but now a welcomed guest. As I opened the door, I forgot I had ever been scared as anger filled my chest. Who did he think he was, just turning up outside someone’s house and staring through their window like that?

I ran toward the car. He was gone. I stood exactly where I had seen him, confused. I looked behind the car, around the bushes, I called to see if anyone was there. Nothing.

Had I imagined it? I stood still in the spot he had occupied and waited; in case I saw something.

Until I looked up, and there he was, through my window. I stared in disbelief. He stood in the same position I had stood just several minutes before, glaring back down at me. This time though, his face was more illuminated. The big dark eyes revealed themselves to be my own. I stared. I stared back.

Sofia Daley Sevilla is a 20-year-old English Literature student at UCL London. She is half Spanish, half British and spent a lot of her childhood growing up in Hong Kong. Sofia has moved around in her life which has made her want to write about what she sees and experiences.