My mind raced as I lay there, suffocating in the silence beneath the bed. Who was this man, and how did he know my name? The familiarity of his voice gnawed at the edges of my memory, but I couldn’t quite place it.
The shadow lingered, and I could hear him rummaging through my drawers. Each drawer creaked open, the sound magnified in the tense stillness. He rifled through my belongings with an air of frustration, muttering to himself now and then. “Where is it?” he kept saying, his irritation growing with each passing minute.
Every second felt like an eternity. My heart was pounding so fiercely I feared he might hear it. I felt trapped, paralyzed by fear, yet my mind was screaming for action. I strained my ears, trying to catch every word, every sound, that might give me a clue about his identity or intentions.
