I can feel your presence. I can hear the floor creaking with every move you make, and your breathing from the dark corner of the room. I'm nervous and angry. I can hear you getting calmer. As you sit on the floor, I creep quietly behind you. I'm adjusting the lace scarf around my eyes. I feel the warmth of your body. I grab the back of your head and press you to the floor. What are you doing here? Who are you? I hold a knife to your throat, but I don't want to hurt you.
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