The Songs of Stockholm: Chapter 1

     You know that feeling you get when someone is staring at you? It’s incredibly annoying. What about when someone is staring at you from behind? You get this tingling feeling that borders on intense fear, right? This past week I had been wishing for annoyance rather than fear, but fear is what I got. It had been going on every day, all day, this prickling feeling on the back of my neck. Of course, I would just tell myself I was paranoid. That there was no one following me from home to school and back again. Or, that there couldn’t be someone looking through my window or standing over me as I slept. If anything, it would be an angry spirit, not a real person. Then came Friday night.

     It was late, past curfew actually, when I came home from a night out with friends. I was exhausted, so I went straight to my room and flopped on the bed. The next morning I was awaken by a strong aroma of ammonia. By feeling around with my hands, I knew I wasn’t in my room any longer. My room had wood floors not plush carpet. Then that same feeling I had felt this past week returned, only stronger. I hadn’t been paranoid. Someone had been watching and following me and that same someone was standing over me. I could feel their presence. I dared myself, and opened my eyes.

     He stood there, over me, this stranger. A smile crept on his face and he squatted, I guess to get a closer look. His reaction seemed to be just as mine was, surprised. He couldn’t believe he had me here—with him. Carefully, almost painfully slow, he reached out his right hand towards my face. I panicked; my breathing now hurried, and sat up quickly to scoot away from him.

     “What do you want with me?” I was afraid to ask, but I figured he would kill me anyways, so why not get answers from him first. But the response I got wasn’t even mere words; instead, he sat back on his hunches and started to hum. The tune was disturbingly familiar. Then he gave the tune a beat by patting his thighs and snapping his fingers on occasion.

     “I’ve been looking under rocks and breaking locks. Just tryna find ya…” he sang. Literally, he sang those words to me. There was my answer. He was nuts! And I was terrified. I had to suck it up. He was definitely mental but I could get answers from him. But before I could phrase my next question he got to his feet and chuckled in a bashful way then continued, “I’ve been like a maniac, insomniac. Five steps behind ya.” So he had been following me. That was my second question. Suddenly, he winked at me then left the room. I heard a sounded click. Would he come back? I wasn’t sure, and so I didn’t want to move. Then I spotted the natural light from a window. There was my opportunity. It was either take it or leave it.

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     He had been gone for an hour or so and I had turned into stone—I couldn’t move. I was afraid to do so, because—I knew—if I moved a muscle he would return. But I had to find a way out. That should be my main priority. Besides, I wasn’t one of those weak girls who expected to be found and rescued. I rather be Annie Oakley than Sleeping Beauty any day. Automatically, my fear dissolved and I was on my feet scanning my surroundings.

     To my surprise, it was a gorgeous room. Made for a queen. My eyes landed on a spiral staircase in the far right corner of the room. Why did I want to go towards the stairs—the unknown—instead of the window on my left that led to my freedom. I wasn’t usually stupid but I was a risk taker. “This is not the time.” I spoke out loud to myself. But I had already made my way over and stepped on the bottom stair. “Just a quick look then I'm out of this karaoke bar.” At the top it opened up to an expansive library. Row upon rows of books lined the wall of built-in shelves. My curiosity got the better of me and my thoughts to escape were left unnoticed. Approaching one shelf, my hand immediately reached for a book that had my favorite label. I couldn’t resist. I was so entranced that my ears didn’t pick up on someone else in the room. Until I heard the humming.

     I turned to face the hummer clutching the book to my chest as if it would grow into a soldier’s shield. The tune was unfamiliar but the lyrics registered as a plea and a promise.

     “How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me. It’s like a book elegantly bound but, in a language you can’t read. Just yet.” I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding as he came closer. I was…relaxed. Even though it was incredibly creepy, his singing was just his way of talking to me. Just another form of communication. Why was I rationalizing his actions? He kidnapped me and here I was thinking…

     “You won’t hurt me.” It was a question until I spoke the sentence. I knew he wouldn’t. He gave me an anguished look and shook his head. “So you’ll let me go? I won’t say anything because you didn’t and wouldn’t hurt me.” He suddenly came forward and I shuffled back only to feel the shelves pressing into my back. I gasped as his hand came up and settled on my cheek.

     “You gotta spend some time, Love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you’ll find, love. I will possess your heart.” It was the same song I could tell but he wasn’t “saying” what I wanted to hear. He wanted to keep me prisoner and make me fall in love with him. No, this was not going to happen. My fear had dissipated and I knew it wouldn’t return because anger had taken its place. I shook my head aggressively and pushed the stranger away from me.

     “No! You can’t keep me here and you can’t make someone love you. Look, I won’t tell the police of you let me go. But you have to let me go. If you don’t then the police will come themselves and then I can’t help you.” Did I just say help him? Well, he did need help. He obviously wasn’t in the right state of mind. But he didn’t listen to a word I said. He just began to hum the first familiar tune. Then came back to me, both hands on my face. His eyes connected with mine and silently begged me to listen.

     “You could be my it girl…Loving you can be a crime.” He stepped back abruptly and grabbed his own head, “Crazy how we fit girl. This is it girl.” Dropping his arms he sighed, “Give me twenty-five to life.”

     “You have got to be kidding me!?!” I yelled at him then suddenly calmed. “You know what? You’re on your own. I’m going to walk right out that door and you’re not going to stop me.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Because, like the good cliche love line goes, “'If you love me, let me go.'”

TO BE CONTINUED...