By Kayli Harley, TIWP Student
It calls my phone unexpectedly, like an old high school friend who just happened to be in town and somehow knew my number. It knocks on my door and I have no choice but to let it in because it has already pushed its way through the door, sat down, and propped its feet up on the coffee table I spent hours cleaning till it shined. Its shoes leave smudges all over the polished wood, careless smudges that blur my reflection on the surface more with each slight movement. And, it laughs at my expense, spitting jokes that ring in my ears, jokes I cannot make sense of. It gets up and walks into my kitchen, raiding the fridge but never settling on one item, it just throws everything on the counter, shuts the doors, complains about how there is no food, and moves on. It enters my room and writes little notes for me everywhere, it glues them to the bed frame, the chair, the walls, and even the ceiling. My mind is swirling, I’m wondering why I suddenly feel sick, why I am about to faint, and why I am stumbling behind it to the front door when it turns to me, gives a knowing look, then slams it shut.