"Where did he end up going, ma'am?" The officer asked you as he continued to search the room.
"I told you, I don't know. He was here one moment, then he vanished the next. I just need you to check to see if anything is opened or unlocked that shouldn't be." You requested, putting a spoonful of lukewarm macaroni into your mouth as you sat on the floor.
Whatever happened, it rendered your legs almost immobile. It was painful, but it was more unsettling to see that your legs were not available. The feeling in them slowly came back, but that didn't make what happened magically better. You were distraught. Who was in your apartment? How did he get in? How did he get out? How long was he hidden for? What did he do that semi-paralyzed you?
Was is even real?
Was this just some night terror? In psychology class, you had heard of such things as being rendered immobile slowly after waking up in the wrong stage of sleep. But still, you were pretty sure that you weren't asleep. Almost certain of it. How else would you be sitting in the exact same position of when it happened?
Things weren't adding up, and you needed answers.
And who was he anyways?
You could distinctly recall that you recognized his voice, but nothing was clicking. Everything was so disorienting that you had a hard time believing what was real and what wasn't.
The cop entered into the kitchen again, signalling that he was done with his search.
"There doesn't seem to be anything that has be messed with or opened that shouldn't be."
You groaned with his explanation, not satisfied with his answer.
"if you'd like me to, I can call for a K9 team." He offered. But you dismissed him with a lazy wave of your hand.
"No, that's not necessary. Thank you for coming out, officer." You replied.
"Ma'am, are you sure that you're okay?" He asked, looking concerned to see your state, "Would you like me to call some medics?"
You stared at him and straightened out your disposition.
"No. I'm fine. I appreciate your concern though." You said, smiling at him. He gave you a side smile in return before he made his way out of your apartment, shutting the door behind him as you has asked.
Why didn't you take his offer to seek medical attention?
To be honest, it was more of a gut thing. Something told you that, if you would've taken his offer, things would not have ended well.
The man that you saw felt unreal. Like something out of a sci-fi movie. You were sure that whoever he was, he may not be normal. But of course, like any other human being, you threw that part out of your memory. There was no need to be thinking so far out like that. You were probably being ridiculous.
You sighed and put down your fork to comb your hand through your hair.
'Let's try this again.'
Afraid to say anything in fear of his presence that may still be lurking around, you laid your hands down on the kitchen tile and pushed up, not wanting to try to move your legs. Your body lifted up slightly in response before the burden became too much, then forcing yourself to sit back down.
Knowing that you could now move your torso around without any pain, you proceeded to carefully wiggle your left foot.
Surprisingly, once again, there was no pain.
Happy to see that your lower body was able to move, you bent your leg towards yourself and used it as leverage to force yourself up.
Now on two feet, you practically jumped for joy. But, still wary of the man that paralyzed you so easily, you quietly bent down, picked up your macaroni, and popped it into the microwave for twenty seconds to heat it up.
As you waited for the rest of your dinner, you thought over what you had said to the delivery man before.
"My room is 5C. Next time, just run up."
The beeping of the microwave finishing caught your attention, and you quickly fumbled to get the food out of it. You held the warmed food in your palms for a moment and waited for any unwanted noises and kept a strict watch on the television. After a few seconds, your worries subsided enough for you to start to finish up your meal.
'I'm gonna have to give that kid a big tip if he's gonna come up here... God, why do I always have bad luck?'