In my past life, the sweet neighbor boy who always came over to play sneaked into Chloe’s bedroom in the middle of the night. The next morning, our living room was packed with police officers. Chloe was out of her mind, flinching away from anyone who tried to touch her. Only then did I find out that he wasn’t a young boy at all. He was a twenty-two-year-old man with dwarfism. From that day on, Chloe never stepped foot outside again. Her mental health deteriorated rapidly. Our parents quit their jobs to stay home and comfort her, but Chloe kept hurting herself. Two months later, she slipped out of the house when our parents weren’t paying attention and jumped into the river. In the guest room where the monster had temporarily stayed, the police found countless pages of paper detailing Chloe’s daily routine. Along with a sickening pile of secretly taken photos. It had been a calculated hunt all along. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to when I was six years old. Toby, the neighbor boy, was standing at the front door. He looked up at me with a sweet, high-pitched voice. “Stella, I came to play with you.” Chloe poked her head out from the living room and smiled. “Come on in, Toby. It’s boiling hot outside.” I blocked the doorway with all my might. “I hate you. Go away.”
Chloe froze, holding a plate of freshly sliced watermelon. Toby stood on the porch, clutching a rusty tin box. The box was filled with glass marbles. Red, blue, green. In my past life, these marbles rolled all over the floor. When the police searched his bag, those marbles rolled out from under the coffee table, bumping against my feet. Only then did I realize he hadn’t come to play with me. He was using me as an excuse to get close to Chloe. Chloe set the plate down and came over to pull me back. “Stella, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” “Doesn’t Toby always come over to play with you?” My lips trembled, and my entire body shook. “I don’t want to play with him.” “I don’t want him inside our house.” Toby lowered his head, his shoulders slumping. He was very short, and his face looked incredibly young. Everyone in our townhouse complex was used to calling him “little Toby.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Chloe, maybe I should just go.” “It seems like Stella doesn’t like me.” He made a move to leave, but his feet remained glued to the porch. I stood firm, blocking the doorway. A look of conflict flashed across Chloe’s face. Waves of summer heat rolled into the house. In the end, she let out a sigh. “Stella, don’t be so rude.” “He lives right next door. What’s wrong with him hanging out for a bit?” I screamed, “No!” Chloe frowned. She rarely showed me a cold face. But our parents had gone out of town to the city hospital for Grandma’s surgery, leaving just the two of us at home. She was already exhausted. She thought I was just throwing a tantrum because Mom and Dad weren’t home. She picked me up and set me aside. Just like that, Toby stepped inside. Chloe closed the front door behind him. An icy chill ran down my spine. Toby placed his tin box on the coffee table and sat meekly on the edge of the sofa. He sneaked a quick glance at Chloe. His eyes traveled from Chloe’s face down to her neck, which was damp with sweat. Then he quickly looked away. If I hadn’t lived through this once before, I probably would have thought it was just my imagination. Chloe turned to go to the kitchen to wash her hands. Toby immediately stood up. “Chloe, let me help you carry the watermelon.” “No, it’s fine. Just sit down.” “It’s okay, I want to help.” He started walking toward the kitchen. I wriggled out of Chloe’s grasp, rushed over, and blocked the kitchen doorway. “You’re not allowed in here!” Toby stopped in his tracks. For a split second, the timid look on his face vanished, replaced by a cold, dark glare. The next second, he put on a pitiful smile again. “Stella, I just wanted to help Chloe.” I grabbed the tin box of marbles from the coffee table and slammed it onto the floor. The colorful marbles scattered everywhere. Chloe walked out of the kitchen, her face darkening. “Stella!” My eyes blurred with tears. “I hate him.” “I just hate him!” Toby knelt down, picking them up one by one. His voice was just loud enough for Chloe to hear. “It’s okay, Chloe.” “It’s normal for kids not to like me.” Sure enough, Chloe’s heart softened. She knelt down to help him pick them up. “She’s usually not like this.” “Maybe she’s just anxious because our parents aren’t home.” Toby paused his hands. He looked up, acting as if he had just heard the news. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Miller still not back?” Chloe replied casually, “Grandma got a fever after her surgery, so they have to stay at the hospital for another two days.” “It’s just me and Stella at home.” I lunged forward, covering Chloe’s mouth. “Don’t tell him!” Chloe froze. Toby looked at me, slowly curving his lips into a smile. “Stella is so protective of Chloe.” My chest tightened. He already knew, but he just loved hearing Chloe confirm it herself. To confirm there were no adults in the house. To confirm that his prey was left with only a six-year-old child.
Toby knew I was guarding against him. So, for the rest of the afternoon, he insisted on clinging to me. “Stella, let’s see who can flick their marble the farthest.” “Stella, I’ll give you this biggest one.” “Stella, let me draw a kitty for you.” For every word he said, I took a step back. Whenever he got close, I hid behind Chloe. Chloe tried to coax me at first. But seeing my cold face, her tone turned slightly reprimanding. “Stella, you don’t have to play if you don’t want to.” “But you can’t keep being this rude.” Toby immediately waved his hands. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” “People always find me weird when they look at me.” He made himself sound so pathetic. Chloe’s guilt deepened. But I only felt disgusted. In my past life, the police had found an old notebook at his place. It recorded exactly what time Chloe went grocery shopping, what time she hung the laundry, and whether she turned off the living room lights before bed. It was a stalker’s log. As evening approached, the air grew even stuffier. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the hot wind pushed through the gaps in the window. Toby’s phone rang. He didn’t walk away to answer it. He even turned up the volume on purpose. On the line, a woman’s impatient voice came through: “Your dad and I can’t make it back tonight. The road to the countryside is blocked. You’re on your own.” Toby murmured, “Mom, I’m a little scared to be by myself.” “You’re an adult and you’re still afraid of the dark? Stop annoying me!” The call disconnected. He clutched his phone, sitting in the corner of the sofa, silent. As expected, Chloe asked, “Your parents aren’t coming back tonight?” He nodded. “Yeah.” “The breaker tripped at my place a few days ago. It gets pitch black at night, and I can’t sleep.” He looked up at Chloe, his eyes slightly red. “Chloe, can I just sleep on your living room floor tonight?” My brain went entirely numb. That was the exact line. In my past life, Chloe had set up a bed for him because of this very excuse. And then, in the dead of night, he had sneaked into her room. I rushed in front of Chloe. “No!” “He can’t sleep in our house!” “He will hurt you!” Chloe’s expression changed. “Stella!” I screamed through my tears, “I’m serious! He’ll get up in the middle of the night.” “He’ll stand right outside your door.” Toby’s face turned pale for a second. Then he lowered his head to grab his bag. “Chloe, forget it. I’ll go home.” “Stella doesn’t like me. I can’t make things difficult for you.” He moved very slowly. Chloe closed her eyes. “You can sleep in the living room.” “Just head back tomorrow morning.” I looked at her in disbelief. “Chloe!” She knelt down and took me by the shoulders. “Stella, I’ll lock our bedroom door.” “You sleep with me tonight.” “Nothing will happen.” Nothing will happen. She had thought the same thing in our past life. While Toby was in the bathroom washing his hands, I immediately dragged Chloe into the kitchen. I kept my voice low, trembling with urgency. “Chloe, I had a nightmare last night.” Chloe blinked. “What dream?” “I dreamed he slept in our house.” “I dreamed he didn’t sleep at night.” “I dreamed he stood outside your door.” Chloe wanted to comfort me. But I beat her to it. “I also dreamed he did bad things to you.” “Then a lot of police came.” “You kept crying and hiding.” “Mom cried, and Dad cried too.” Chloe’s expression finally shifted. A six-year-old child shouldn’t be saying things like this. Her throat bobbed. “Stella, dreams aren’t real.” I gripped her tightly. “Then watch him. Look at his eyes.” “The way he looks at you is not how a kid looks at an older sister.” The running water in the bathroom stopped. Toby was coming out. Chloe bent down to grab a dishcloth from the table. I saw Toby standing by the door, his eyes locked dead on Chloe’s waist. His gaze was intense and unwavering. Chloe noticed it too. Her hand holding the cloth paused for a second. I knew that doubt had finally taken root in her mind.
At nine in the evening, Chloe set up a makeshift bed for Toby on the living room floor. A thin blanket, a pillow, a sheet, and a glass of water. She was still polite and thorough. But her warmth from the afternoon was gone. I held my small pillow, standing at Chloe’s bedroom door. “I want to sleep with Chloe.” Chloe patted my head. “Okay, you sleep with me tonight.” Toby sat on his makeshift bed, looking up at us. “Stella is getting so big, yet she still can’t sleep without Chloe?” He made it sound like a joke. But my stomach churned with nausea. I hid behind Chloe, ignoring him. Chloe said calmly, “Get some rest, Toby.” “The living room light is on, and there’s water on the coffee table.” We went into the bedroom. The moment the door closed, Chloe turned the lock. She was finally on guard. Only a small nightlight was lit in the bedroom. Chloe sat on the edge of the bed, her phone never leaving her hand. She whispered, “Stella, if you hear any noise tonight, don’t run around.” I nodded. It didn’t take long before soft footsteps echoed outside. Very light. From the living room to the hallway. And finally, they stopped right outside our door. I immediately grabbed Chloe’s pajamas. Chloe held her breath. From outside, Toby’s high-pitched voice called, “Chloe.” Chloe didn’t answer right away. He called again, “Chloe, are you asleep?” Chloe asked through the door, “What is it?” Toby said, “I can’t sleep.” “When I was little, my mom used to tell me stories before bed.” “Can you tell me a story for a bit?” I felt like throwing up. A twenty-two-year-old grown man. Standing outside a young girl’s bedroom in the middle of the night. Asking for a bedtime story. But if this were the Chloe of my past life, her heart might have softened. She might have pulled up a chair to sit in the living room for a bit. She might have gently told him to go to sleep. She would have surrendered her boundaries, step by step. I yelled out loud, “Chloe is tired!” “No stories!” Chloe pressed a hand over me, her voice calmer than before. “Toby, I’m tired too.” “You can listen to the radio. There’s one in the TV stand drawer.” It was quiet outside for a moment. Then he spoke again. “There are so many mosquitoes in the living room.” “Can I come in and sit for a while?” Chloe answered even faster this time. “That’s not appropriate.” “The bug spray is under the coffee table.” The shadow remained under the door crack. He didn’t leave. After a while, he kept making excuses. “Chloe, my stomach hurts.” “Can you come out and help me find some medicine?” Chloe gripped her phone, her knuckles turning white. “The first-aid kit is in the cabinet to the left of the TV.” “The instructions on the bottle are very clear.” Toby’s voice dropped a pitch. “Chloe, do you hate me?” “I know people like me annoy everyone.” I was so angry I wanted to rush out and scream at him. But Chloe didn’t let him manipulate her. “No, I don’t.” “But it’s late.” “We need to sleep.” The noise outside stopped completely. Footsteps slowly faded away, but they were incredibly slow. It sounded like he was measuring the distance. Chloe sat on the edge of the bed, her face ghostly pale. It took a long time before she asked me, “Stella, in your dream… what else did he do?” I looked at her, tears spilling over. I wanted to say that he ruined your entire life. I wanted to say that you never dared to open a window again. I wanted to say that you sat in a dark room, cutting your arms over and over. But I couldn’t say it. I could only hug her tightly. “Chloe, don’t sleep.” “He’s waiting for us to fall asleep.” Chloe’s body stiffened. Then, she held me incredibly tight. “Okay.” “I’ll stay awake with you.” In my past life, I couldn’t wake her up. In this life, she had finally woken up on her own.
Chloe didn’t waste any more time. She put her phone on silent. First, she texted Mrs. Gable downstairs. Mrs. Gable had a spare key to our place. Our parents had left it with her years ago in case I lost mine on the way home from school. Chloe typed rapidly: “Mrs. Gable, if the police come, please give them the spare key. Do not come upstairs to knock on the door.” After sending it, she sent a location pin to our dad. “Dad, Toby is staying over at our place, and something is wrong. Stella and I are locked in the bedroom. If I don’t answer your call, call 911 immediately.” After doing all this, she kept her phone screen on the 911 dial pad. Her hands shook violently as she pushed the study desk against the door. The floor of the old apartment was uneven, and the desk legs scraped against the wood, making a sharp, screeching sound. With every push, she stopped to listen to the noises outside. The living room was silent. It seemed as if Toby had really gone to sleep. But I knew he hadn’t. Monsters like him were experts at waiting. Chloe then tilted the small wardrobe to wedge it against the door. She dug out a pair of scissors from the drawer and slid them under her pillow. Then, she wrapped me in the blanket. “Stella, if something really happens, hide under the bed.” I shook my head. “I want to stay with you.” Chloe’s eyes welled with tears. “You’re only six.” “A six-year-old can call 911 too.” I gripped her hand tightly. “I won’t sleep.” “I’ll never sleep that heavily again.” Chloe stared at me, stunned. I knew I had let something slip. But she didn’t ask. She just pulled me into her arms. The clock on the wall ticked away. At 1:00 AM, the summer cicadas outside stopped chirping. Suddenly, a faint sound came from the living room. My entire body froze. Chloe immediately switched off the nightlight. Darkness swallowed the room, and then came the footsteps. One step. A pause. Another step. And finally, they stopped right outside the bedroom door. The doorknob was slowly pressed down. Once. It didn’t open. A second time. Still didn’t open. Chloe placed one hand over my mouth and tapped the call button with the other. The call connected. She kept her voice incredibly low but spoke with absolute clarity. “Someone is trying to break into my bedroom.” “My six-year-old sister and I are trapped inside.” “The address is Oakridge Townhomes, Block 2, Unit 3, Apartment 4B.” “The man outside is Toby. He’s our neighbor. He’s a grown man.” The dispatcher told her to stay on the line. Do not hang up. Do not go near the door. A few seconds later, a thin scratching sound came from the keyhole. Like a piece of metal scraping against bone. Chloe whispered, “He’s picking the lock.” The noise outside stopped abruptly. Toby called out softly, “Chloe?” No response. He spoke again. “Are you on the phone?” “Did you misunderstand me?” “I was just worried about you guys. I wanted to check in.” My tears fell onto Chloe’s palm. Chloe spoke to the dispatcher, “He’s trying to lure me into opening the door.” “He might have tools.” Toby’s tone completely changed. “Chloe, are you guarding against me?” “I’m sleeping in your living room, and you lock the door on me?” Chloe held me in a death grip. The next second, the door was slammed hard from the outside. The study desk skidded backward. I shook with terror. Chloe bit her lip, forcing herself not to scream. “He’s throwing himself against the door,” she told the dispatcher. “Please hurry.” Outside, Toby let out a low curse. His voice didn’t sound high-pitched or childlike at all. He rammed the door again. The wardrobe tilted, and the door frame groaned. The third hit. The latch cracked, revealing a sliver of an opening. Chloe grabbed the scissors from under the pillow and blocked me with her body. The man outside was panting, his voice chillingly cold. “Open the door.” “Don’t make me force my way in.” On the fourth strike, the door swung inward violently. The desk was shoved back half a foot. A small hand reached through the gap, gripping the edge of the door.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “459805”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster
Leave a Reply