The Visitor (Part 1)

Sameer Reuben
Nov 3 · 5 min read

A loud knock on the door caught Raima off guard. She abruptly dropped the candle from her hand. The power had gone out and the thunderstorm made it near impossible to see anything inside or outside the house. The house became briefly illuminated every now and then, whenever the lightning flashed across the sky. Raima was forced to rely on her cell phone’s flashlight but now even her cell phone was about to get powered off. Candles were her only hope if she wanted to navigate the house under these circumstances.

Who is it? Asked Raima, a little puzzled and scared

‘Hello, can you hear me? If there’s somebody inside please let me in. I just want a place to stay the night. My car crashed and I can’t get it started. There’s too much water outside and I’m soaking wet. Please let me in. I swear to even pay you if you let me stay the night’.

The response took Raima by surprise, judging by the voice it was a mature man in his thirties or forties. Raima stayed silent for a long time. She couldn’t think of a response.

‘Hello, would you please let me in?’ the man outside her house pleaded again. This time there was urgency in his voice.

Wh-wh-whoo are you? Raima finally managed to respond. She was in no condition to help anyone. Here she was in the middle of a crisis and there’s a man outside her house asking for help.

‘I’m Arshad. I live close by. I was heading home from work and it started pouring. The streets were filled with water and I could barely see the road. Unknowingly, I hit a pothole. My car got stuck and I couldn’t get it out. I tried as much as I could but nothing fruitful came out of my efforts. I can’t call anybody because my cell phone has been watered down. I’m isolated and alone. Please let me in’. The stranger spilled out all the details in one go. He really wanted to get inside that house.

The last line of the stranger stood out for Raima. She found it uncanny how she was in the same condition; isolated and alone. No power, no housemates, and no cell phone reception. She got rid of her landline a couple of months back. She now regretted that decision. Raima pulled herself together and grabbed the candle that had fallen down between all the commotions. She set it ablaze. She could now see the room better. She could see the Persian rug she was standing on. The paintings on the left side of the room looked surreal. They had taken a different form in the poorly lit room. Their sight terrified Raima. She quickly looked away. She was now facing the main door. The white metal door looked enormous from her angle of vision.


The storm made Raima feel minuscule and insignificant. She felt vulnerable and unsafe in her own house and now the stranger on the door was another nuisance she had to tolerate.

‘Why should I let you in? I don’t know, you could be killer for all I know’.

‘What kind of a serial killer knocks on people’s door and politely asks them to stay the night?’

‘But I can’t just trust you like that and let you in. Give me one good reason and I’ll let you in’.

‘I don’t know maybe because you’re all alone in this house just like I’m all alone outside. Maybe we both can keep each other company’.

That response sent shivers down Raima’s spine. How did he know that she was all alone? Who was this man and what did he really want? Raima thought.

‘I’m not alone. I have my family with me. What makes you think I’m alone?’ Raima lied as blatantly and as bravely as she could.

‘Oh, Raima! I know you’re all alone in that house. Why don’t you let me in and you won’t feel so lonely or afraid’ there was slight excitement in his voice this time.

He knows my name! How do you know my name you creep? Have you been stalking me? Go away before I…

Before I what? Call the cops on me? The stranger cut Raima before she could complete her sentence.

There isn’t any cell reception, there isn’t any power, it’s just you and me darling’ his voice sounded threatening.

That was it. Raima had enough. She shouted loudly.

Go away you creep or else you’ll be dead!

What makes you think I’m not dead already? Every word that came out of this man’s mouth made Raima more anxious. Sweat dripped from her brow. Her feet trembled and she was shaking now.

‘Oh did I scare you? I didn’t mean to darling, relax. I’m very much alive and would really appreciate it if you’d open this door so we both could have a good time together’. He was really enjoying this conversation, she wasn’t.

Everything in her house felt cursed. The walls, the drapes, the antiques, the paintings all made her feel nauseated. Raima gathered up the courage to move closer to the door.

‘Listen up, weirdo if you want to waste your time over here then be my guest. You can talk all night but I’m not opening this door. I don’t care what problems you have, I have plenty of my own and I can’t really put up with your nonsense’, she was firm and concrete in her speech.

‘Open up you stupid bitch’, shouted the stranger while banging the door. Raima was startled and quickly paced away from the door. He banged loudly while shouting at the top of his lungs. ‘Don’t make me come inside and gut you alive, you filthy whore’, he threatened violently. The aggression and hatred in his voice made Raima burst out into tears. She didn’t know what to do. All of this was too much to handle. It was overwhelming.

‘Go away and leave me alone please’, responded Raima while crying helplessly. The stranger kept on banging for a minute or so and then all the noise, everything stopped. There was complete silence. All Raima could hear was the deafening thunder and the sound of heavy rain pouring outside.

Raima felt relieved. At last that creep had gone. He had left her alone. She pulled herself together and was about to head upstairs when she heard his voice again.

‘Going somewhere? Why are you leaving me like this, we were just becoming friends’, the stranger sounded ecstatic.

Raima decided not to respond, she thought that maybe if she kept silent the stranger would go away. She was horribly wrong.

Sameer Reuben

Written by

-Emerging writer. Don't talk to me before coffee. Creative procrastinator. Art Enthusiast. Devil to some angel to others. Acheronta Movebo- meerreuben@gmail.com

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade