Why Would You Come?

I blinked rapidly a couple of times, expecting for the image in front of me to disappear like a mirage and just like a figment of my imagination. Everything in me hoped that none of it were real and that I have started hallucinating and seeing things because of my inability to stop thinking about him.

My eyes only stung as I kept blinking my eyes.

The image of the person sitting on my chair, in the middle of my room, clad in a all black suit, isn't disappearing like a mirage and no I wasn’t hallucinating, it was as vivid as anything could ever be.

My legs stood grounded to the spot by the door , unmoving and suddenly rigid. All of the bravery I summed up, ready to hit the intruder with a mop stick melted out of me as I processed the scene before me.

Don Dada is in my room. In my house!

My mind raced with a million things that I could possibly do. I contemplated running out of here and shutting the door but this is my house! There was no other place I could run to. Then I thought ag