I was walking home one night when I saw a man.
"Let me in," he said.
I ran from him, and locked all of the doors when I got home. I tried to forget about him, but the next morning when I left for work I saw him again.
"Let me in," he said.
I backed into my car and started driving. I was ringing in a customer's purchase later that day when I spotted him near the back of the store.
"Let me in," he said.
I paled, and told one of my coworkers to get mall security.
"Let me in," he said.
I told him to shut up. His dark eyes stared dully at me out of a skeletal thin face for a few moments.
He lunged.
I scrambled over the counter, feeling his long and grubby fingers trace over my arm. It was at that point my co-worker arrived with a security officer. My sense of victory was quickly overwhelmed by what felt like a cold clamp closing over my skull and my co-worker's terrified expression.
"What happened to your face?" She asked quietly.
"Let me in," I replied.
I heard the man collapse behind me.
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