I jerked upright in the bed, my scream still lingering in my ears. My hand went to my mouth and I started to sob.

I couldn't take it anymore! Oh God please help me!

I crashed back against my pillows and I cried for a while, but sleep wouldn't come, no matter how much I needed it. I threw back the covers and got up. I looked at the alarm clock in disgust, 2:00am. I'd only been asleep for less than two hours.

My eyes burned and I stumbled my way to the bathroom. I didn't turn on the light, as I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face repeatedly. I stood there for a moment, water dripping off my face onto the countertop. I was so tired of this!

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I headed back to the bed dreading every step, but I had to get some sleep even at the risk of another nightmare. I was about to slip back under the covers, when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I wasn't alone!

It was a terrible realization to have and I reacted quickly out of fear, my hands dove under my pillow to grasp a small 9mm I kept there and I swung around with it held high. My aim centered on the shadowy outline of a person sitting in one of my small kitchenette chairs.

The filtered city light from outside outlined the individual and I made it out to be a man wearing a dark suit. Something chilled within me as I guessed as to whom it could be, the man from the sketch!

I was breathing hard, as if I had just been in a race, and I felt the tight grip I had on the gun waver slightly.

'Get a hold of yourself Lisa!' My brain screamed inside at me, but I couldn't help it.

Fear gripped me hard as I stared down the barrel of the pistol at the man sitting in my kitchen chair. "How long have you been sitting there?" I asked, as my mind seized in consideration of everything that he could have done to me and perhaps still could. My grip tightened on the gun yet further at the possibility of that last thought.

He spoke, "I'm sorry I didn't wake you from the nightmare you were having, but I figured that living alone and being woken up by a stranger would be a nightmare all of its own."

"Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?" Before he could answer I added, "Are you here to kill me?"




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