text: The land lady walked into the kitchen chattering away, Myra following right behind her. “Ok, so, the kitchen is pretty much the same as the other apartment. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t realize Freddy had rented that one already.” This was the second apartment Debbie had showed to Myra. As far as Myra could tell, it was basically the same as the other, just kind of backwards- In the other apartment, bedroom was on the right, in this one it was on the left. In the other apartment the kitchen opened up to the left, in this one it opened to the right. There were only two doors- a front door that led to the parking lot and a back door that opened up to a small fenced in yard behind the building. It was a tiny, cramped little place, but it would be perfect for Myra. It was cheap, close to her new job and cleaner than the other places she’d seen. Debbie continued to prattle on about how the apartment was “basically the same” as the other one she had already showed Myra, when her cell phone rang. Debbie paused to look at the screen. “Like I was saying,” she continued, looking at the phone, “There’s just the one difference. Hold on, this is Freddy, I need to take it.” Debbie stepped into the living room to answer the phone while Myra checked out the kitchen. Apartment-sized washer/dryer combo. Fridge. Microwave. Everything was sort of a plain, sterile, eggshell white. Kitchen window that overlooked the parking lot. Back door. Yep, everything’s the same she thought, completing her mental checklist. Myra smiled when Debbie returned to the kitchen. “Sorry about that,” she began, “wanted to make sure Freddy hadn’t rented this one too.” They both chuckled. Debbie never got to finish the tour. A moment later, Myra told her she would take the place, and they started in on the paperwork. That night, Myra drove back to Alabama and returned with her meager belongings two days later. She carried in her few boxes, and her small coffee table by herself, and basked that night in the glory of her first real apartment, lying on her air mattress and texting pictures of her new place to her friends. \*\*\*\*\*\* Myra got home from her first day at work completely exhausted. This would only be her 2nd night in her new apartment, and she kind of wanted to unpack... but she also kind of wanted to crash into her bed and sleep for the next 12 hours till she had to be back at work. She decided unpacking would wait till the weekend. It was already dark and she was hungry, so she shuffled from her bedroom to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the remnants of last night’s pizza and popped it in the microwave, pouring herself a glass of water from the tap as she waited. She was just about to return to her air mattress with her pizza when she heard something at the back door. Setting down her food, she walked to the back door, eyeballing the deadbolt to make sure it was locked. Rising to her tip toes, she looked through the peephole, but it was completely black. She stood still for a long moment, holding her breath, listening. Nothing. She turned back toward her pizza, reaching for a slice, when a sudden pounding came from the door. A frantic, sudden knocking, like someone was in trouble. Myra nearly screamed, the knock came so suddenly. Turning back to the door, she leaned in once again to the peephole. Nothing. Myra leaned her ear toward the door. “Hello?” Silence. She nearly ran to the front door, checking out the window. Maybe she was mistaken, maybe the knock had come at the front door? But no, there was no one there. She could see her doorstep clearly in the lights from the parking lot. But who would be at the back door? It was a fenced in yard, wasn’t it? She hadn’t actually seen HER yard, she had seen the yard connected to the other apartment, the first one she’d seen. But Debbie had told her this apartment was basically the same- Wait. Maybe that was the difference. Maybe her yard *wasn’t* fenced in. Another knock at the back door. This one a louder, dull, booming knock. “Who’s there?” Myra called out, hoping to hide the tremble in her voice. No response came. “Do you need help?” she shouted, closer to the door. Again, no response. She waited another long, tense minute. And the door handle started to move. “Hello?” Myra yelled as loud as she could. She ran to the door, making sure the deadbolt was locked tight. “Who’s there? Do you need help?” she yelled. The door handle wiggled, as someone on the other side attempted to twist it open. Myra ran to her bedroom and snatched up her cell phone. She dialed 911 and ran back to the kitchen. The doorknob continued to wiggle. “I’m calling the police!” Myra yelled, this time sure the fear in her voice was audible. The operator answered. “911, what’s your emergency?” “Yes, there’s someone trying to come into my house, they’re at the back door...” Myra gasped, tears starting to well up in her eyes. “Ok. Is your door locked?” “Yes, of course. Please send someone, my address is ...” Myra ran to her front door. “I don’t know, I just moved here, I think I have something in my car-” “Don’t go outside!” the operator warned her. “There could be someone out front waiting for you to run. You have to stay inside the house.” “Oh God. Ok, ok” Myra began to hyperventilate. “Ok, I live in the apartments by the river, um...across the street from the park.” “Ok, is it on Elm? Sycamore? Cherry street?” “Yes! That’s it, Cherry street, they’re on cherry street.” “Ok, someone will be there in just a couple of minutes. Try to stay in the house. Lock yourself in the bedroom if you can. Stay on the line with-” BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Myra jumped at the sound. It was coming from the door. It sounded like someone was trying to kick it open. She could see the door tremble with each kick. “Oh God, he’s trying to kick down the door!” Myra shrieked at the operator. “Does your bedroom door lock? Can you lock yourself in the bedroom?” “I don’t know, I just moved in, I think it does...” Myra ran to her bedroom. Behind her, she heard the booming continue. Just before she slammed the bedroom door she could see the doorframe shuddering, coming loose from the wall. Myra screamed again, an unintelligble cry of horror. She clicked the little lock on the bedroom door in place and scrambled into the closet. She could hear whoever it was pounding at the door now, she was certain they were trying to knock it down. The doorknob rattled so much that she was afraid it would just fall off. She had no idea how long she’d been in the bedroom, but her heart pounded, causing her head to throb as blood shot through her veins. She could feel herself blacking out, black spots began to appear around the edges of her vision. Then, all of a sudden, she realized- she didn’t hear anything. The noise had stopped. Gasping for air, she could hear the 911 operator on the other end of the line asking her what was going on. “I...I don’t know” she stammered. “It... stopped”. Myra strained her ears to hear. She stared at the bedroom door, as though that might help her hear what was happening on the other side of it. Then the doorknob began to rattle. \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* Two hours later, it was all over. The police had checked all around the apartments, not just Myra’s but for a block all around. Myra was a gibbering mess, still locked in her bedroom when they’d found her. The landlady, Debbie, had let them into the apartment since Myra wouldn’t come out. They’d found her unconscious in the bedroom closet, clutching her phone, still on the line with the 911 operator. The operator told them that she had just kept screaming about someone trying to break down the back door of her apartment, saying she could see it coming off the hinges. After a long while, they’d finally gotten her calmed down. They’d given her a bottle of water and even brought out the paramedics to look her over, but she was fine, physically. Myra hadn’t even tried communicating with them for the first hour, she just sat on her air mattress while Debbie held her hand, assuring her it would be ok. When she finally had talked, the officer in charge had written some notes down on a small notepad, then went into the other room to talk with Debbie, leaving Myra alone for a few minutes. They returned in a few minutes, asking Myra if she felt well enough to come talk to them. Myra came into the kitchen, still very emotional, but she managed to tell them most of the story without sobbing. The officers on scene looked at her sternly, looking back and forth, occasionally asking questions like “This door?” and “From over here?”. When she finished her story, the officers in the room exchanged glances, and two of them left the apartment without a word, leaving her alone with what looked to be the oldest of the officers and Debbie. “So Myra,” the officer began. “You’re absolutely certain this is the door they tried to come in?” he said, nodding at the kitchen door one last time. Myra nodded. “Definitely. I could see the door shaking from him kicking it.” The officer looked at Debbie. Debbie looked from the officer to Myra and took Myra’s hand. “Come here sweetie. Let me show you something.” Debbie led Myra to the door. Myra shuddered, but Debbie pulled her tight. “Shhh. It’s ok. Look.” Debbie put her hand on the doorknob. “Remember, I told you this apartment was a little different than the other one. And I just wanted to show you what I meant.” Debbie let go of Myra’s hand and turned the deadbolt. She twisted the doorknob and slowly swung the door open. Myra’s mouth hung open. Her eyes widened and her heart leapt into her throat. “This is the only thing that’s different about this apartment. There was a little mix-up with the surveyors and the property lines when this place was built and it turned out that we didn’t actually own the land behind this one, so... Well honey, This door doesn’t go outside. It’s a closet.” There, on the other side of the door, was a small, shallow pantry, lined with shelves. Myra shook her head. “There must have... been somebody in there” Debbie shook her head. “No sweetie, there’s just no way. Nobody could fit in here, there’s no room. It’s all shelves. Tears welled up in Myra’s eyes again. “That’s impossible. That’s impossible.” “There there Dear. Come on. Lets go sit down. Do you have anyone I can call?” Debbie led Myra out of the room, her arm over her shoulder. The elder officer contemplated the scene for a few moments after they were gone. Drugs? She didn’t seem like the type. Maybe she heard something else and just panicked? The landlady had told him this was her first time living away from home. He shook his head. They’d probably never know. He took one last look into the closet with his flashlight and thought, just for a second, when the light caught the thin layer of dust on the linoleum floor just right...he might have seen something that could’ve been a footprint. The officer ran his own foot across the dusty floor of the pantry cabinet a few times, just to make sure nobody else thought they saw something that clearly couldn’t have been there.