It doesn't help that last night, a stranger came by. I even wrote a short... um, story, I suppose, about it.
Upon finishing the last touches of cleaning mother's car, I saw a silver car stopping right around my neighbour's house at the corner of my eyes. I proceeded towards the house gate and picked up the yellow cloth that father had hung. Then the stranger's car blinked red, showing signs that it was going to reverse. The driver must have been lost, I calculated as at the moment they saw me; the car turned around and stopped, once again, in front of my house now. I quickly turned back and was about to make a run for it, my kidnapping paranoia would have kicked in -- I don't know why it hadn't.The driver got out and waved a hand, as if absorbing the fact that a stranger at a house would have scared a teenage girl right after finishing her chore. Great. He flashed a smile, probably nervous. He walked a few steps after the wide opened gate and I, hesitantly, nudged myself towards the stranger. Something around his neck caught my eyes, and I somewhat eased my muscles."Street 36," he started, "May I ask where that is?" He was looking at his phone; seemed to be looking for a relative's house. Maybe a friend's. Or someone's house to kidnap a person and... I shook my sudden thoughts away, my mouth a flat line."Um..." I gritted my teeth and quickly turned on the engines in my brain. "Just behind this street. This is Street 35.""Around the back?" I saw him swallow slightly, almost frowning, but still his eyes were fixated on his phone. "Do I go from this street...?” He pointed to the street right next to my house. “Number 50, Street 35.""Yeah," I replied. "It shouldn't be hard to find." I mentally rubbed the back of my neck, awaiting his departure anxiously."Okay. Thanks." He gave me a swift smile and got back into his car, immediately driving away. I sighed a relief, and slumped back into the house. Mother would've asked of the stranger's identity, and why I had trusted him enough to talk to him -- but she wasn't aware of the situation. I almost laughed at my earlier expression; it's just that you don't find many men willing to go around asking, a young girl in the neighbourhood at that, for directions. Father would've been too egoistical -- it'd hurt his 'pride' too much.It was a good thing that I had gathered all the ‘equipment’; vacuum cleaner, power socket and many more back into the house because all that was left for me to do, after that dreadful scenario, was to drag my feet in.
Call me scared. Call me paranoid. I don't care -- I was seriously fricking scared. And a while ago, I sent Danneh to kindergarten, and as usual, by walking. On my way back, my pulse was racing, and it wasn't even because I was running. I had to calm myself down, and then it happened.
A man, on a motorcycle, who I swear, just passed me, appeared beside me. I was ready to scream, but again, it was a smile. All my muscles were tense, and if it wasn't for the fact that I was listening to music, his voice would have lingered in my mind now. Thankfully.
I guess he wanted to give me a ride. I couldn't really make out what he was saying; I was too busy trying to focus on Rain singing in my ears so I wouldn't burst out in tears and I struggled on breathing. I walked away, then he came around AGAIN. I was like, "WTF. Leave me alone before I seriously cry, right here and right now."
Again I had no idea what he said, only the fact that he wanted to give me a ride. Maybe he asked me where I was going, now that I think about it, but at that time, I really couldn't make out what he was saying. I shook my head, and finally, he went away. I may have destroyed my teeth from gritting too much now, but I don't care. When I finally got to my house, I was so relieved. So, so relieved.
My paranoia, it seems, isn't just all in my head. It was real -- and truly scary. It's frightening what fear can do to you.
Maybe it's socio phobia, fear of people in general. Or maybe recent events have just.... tortured my mind. Slightly. My counsellor would've told me to relax and clear my head. Surely this has gone too far. She would've even considered giving me therapy, treatments, and a long phase on counselling.
Okay, Amira, see, it's not that hard. Just clear my head. Great. Easier said than done.
I need someone to pat me on the head. Maybe that'll ease me up. Or a nap. That sounds nice.