She wasn’t sure about this. The loud knock, the stranger at the door, his voice, filled with angst. When she got up the nerve to open the door, he immediately pushed his way in. Why did he want to come in so badly? Could she trust him? Maybe it was paranoia, but she didn’t want to take any chances. This was not the first time her sister had left her alone, but it was a new house and she still wasn’t used to it. She occassionally bumped into things and had to grope around just to find the doorknob. She was proud to say that she could make it upstairs all by herself. Everytime she crawled up, she patiently endured 12 steps until she was relieved to reach the 13th, the final step. But now this stranger, a man with a raspy voice, as if he was or had been a smoker, and the scent of dry wall, heavy sweat, and a hint of old spice deodorant, had so rudely barged into her house. Running was futile, no matter how badly she wanted to. She had no choice but to face him.