Safe

"Close the drapes at sundown and do not look out again," the pages said (scribbled in a fit of something, crumpled, and then smoothed out again). "Do not answer if there comes a knock upon the door." "A knock upon the door," Maggie recited out loud. "What in the heck? Thanks, Poe. This dude, though ..." She had to finish the pages; she couldn't leave them be once she discovered them wadded up at the back of the little nightstand drawer. "Don't order food delivered; I promise you that it's better to starve than open that door. I promise you." Maggie felt a chill run from her neck to the small of her back. "And no one is breaking into your car; it will begin to prey on your mind that you are hearing something ... it'll a take a shape that puts pressure on you to pull back that curtain and just check the one time ... to be sure ... to keep it all under control." Maggie stared at the curtain, then the door, then the curtain, and then the door again; she thought she heard something outside. "Even if you think I'm crazy (even if I may actually BE crazy), what harm could possibly come from listening to a crazy man and staying safe? Know this: if you pull back that curtain, dismissive and convicted - feeling some urgency and resolve, there will be a face at the window. It will be RIGHT THERE." Maggie sat on the edge of the bed and took a sip of water. The heebies were jeebying like a boss in the pit of her stomach. "Once you see a thing, you can't unsee it," the pages concluded (running out of space with the corner torn). "Pray for me." The road was right there, with trucks and cars and motorcycles some 100 yards away, but Maggie suddenly felt like all of that life wasn't close enough to feel less vulnerable.