B22C18 - Spy

She left and I staggered, still half-blind from the sleep gunk in my eyes, to the bathroom. I splashed my face with cold water.

<Ooooh, I never realized you were so wise and all.>

I jumped straight up. I spun around. Search . . . search . . . search . . . nothing! Nothing in the shower. Nothing on the floor. Nothing on the ceiling.

I stood there, very, very awake. "What do you want, David?"

<I just wanted to hear your deep wisdom, Rachel,> he said. <What's the matter? Does it make you nervous having me around?>

I kept searching the room. Inside the medicine cabinet. Nothing! Then, slowly, with a creeping, crawling sensation of disgust, I realized. He could be anywhere. He could be . . . on me.

"Should I go get some flea powder?" I asked the empty bathroom. I tried to sound tough and indifferent. Like I wasn't scared.

<You have to put up a wall between you and the fear, Rachel,> he mocked. <You have to cut yourself off from it, tell yourself you're safe, Rachel. You have to tell yourself that bad stuff only happens to people who are careless or stupid or evil, Rachel.>

"What do you think you're accomplishing, David?" I asked.

<I'm sending you a message, Rachel,> he said with silky intensity. <See, I know where you live, Rachel. That's my message. You want to threaten me? I know where you live.>