Into the Starry Night

Twenty-Six

When I opened my eyes it was dark and I was wrapped up in the soft, familiar comfort of my pink duvet.

My entire body ached like I had just finished a marathon. I tried to remember what led to this and just like that the events of today came rushing back.

Every tiny, little unpleasant detail came back sharper than I had originally experienced and I couldn't do anything but look up at the ceiling and feel horrible all over again.

It didn't last very long because my stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't had anything to eat all day.

Spurned on by this, I sat up and threw the covers off me. I flicked on the light switch and the room instantly became brighter.

After plugging my phone in, I took off my contacts and trudged into the bathroom.

Shedding every piece of clothing I had on I found a hair tie in my medicine cabinet and gathered my hair into a bun on top of my head.

When that was done I turned on the shower and stood under the soothing jets of warm water for what felt like an eternity just feeling it beat against my body and drive all the soreness out of my bones.

It wasn't until my fingers began to prune and the rumbling in my stomach grew into a dull ache that I reached for my body wash and started to clean myself again.

With my shower complete I found a comfortable black bralette and a matching pair of satin shorts.

Putting my worn clothes into a laundry hamper, I put on a pair of thick fuzzy pink socks, grabbed my headphones and glasses, and left my bedroom.

One of my favourite songs from Nicki Minaj was blasting in my ears as I went down the stairs.

I was making a list of all the things I had to do after eating and feeding my dog in my head as I entered the kitchen when something made me stop and take off my headphones.

There was the smell of freshly cooked food in the air. I couldn't tell exactly what it was but it made the kitchen warm and my stomach rumbled happily.

My expansive kitchen was spotless so I didn't understand why I was feeling a sense of unease creeping over me. The smell was familiar, comforting even, but it shouldn't have been there. I lived alone, and I certainly hadn't cooked anything. Slowly, I began to scan the room, my heart pounding in my chest.

Every corner of the kitchen appeared just as I had left it—tidy and undisturbed. Yet, the aroma lingered, growing stronger with each passing moment. As I moved closer to the source of the scent, a chill ran down my spine. Then, I noticed something peculiar—a pot simmering on the stove, emitting wisps of steam. But how could it be? I hadn't cooked anything, had I?

What were the odds that a psycho walked into my apartment only to use my kitchen and then disappear?

As I lifted the lid of the pot, my glasses instantly fogged up. After wiping them clean, I was greeted by the sight of the most delectable pasta smothered in a heavenly sauce. Despite my confusion about its origin, I couldn't deny the allure of the dish.

I considered making something else to eat since I didn't know where the food came from but my stomach had other ideas and I ended up doing exactly what she wanted.

Finding a bowl I scooped up some and proceeded to stuff forkful after forkful into my mouth. It was good and I gave thanks to whichever angel was responsible for bringing this sustenance to me free of charge.

I was midway through my second bowl when a faint scratching sound caught my attention, drawing my gaze to the balcony door standing ajar, with a soft glow emanating from within.