I started to shut the door in his face. Why wouldn’t I? I hated Mark more than anyone else I’d ever met.
Why would he be at my home?
“Wait,” he said, pushing past me into the apartment. I was left holding the door, unsure whether I should close it or keep it open. With my mom at work, I was on my own.
“Get out of here!” I warned him.
He smiled at me, “Relax.”
“Leave!”
He folded his arms, calmly telling me, “No.”
I slammed the door shut.
“What do you want?” It infuriated me that he was acting like he had a right to do anything he wanted.
“Don’t be so mad.”
I knew I couldn’t physically throw him out.
“I bet you’re glad school is out.”
I swore to myself that if he tried to do something to me in my own home, I would grab something and bash him in the head. I eyed the lamp beside the door.
“Relax,” he said again. He glanced down and noticed my hands balled into fists, “All ready to fight, huh?”
He was mocking me.
“This isn’t a joke,” I told him.
He moved past me further into the apartment.
“Where’s your room?”
“LEAVE!”
He looked over his shoulder at me, unconcerned, “You know you’re not going to do anything about it.”
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