Back Man

Something strange happened last night. I woke up because somebody was knocking at the front door. I had been dreaming, and my dream had strangely evolved around the noise. But now I was awake, and it was not just knocking. It was more like some lunatic or a desperate & scared person was punching and kicking on the door. I had friends sleeping over in my room, but they were fast asleep. My mother - I'm staying at her place - did not seem to stir in her room either. In the dark I opened the bedroom's door. The banging on the front door stopped. I was awake enough to think that it was strange somebody could knock so frantically at a door without calling or screaming. I was sleepy enough not to care.
Maybe it's because I have been reading a Stephen King over the last few days, or maybe it's because I was half asleep, but I did not like the way the banging had stopped at the exact moment I opened the bedroom's door. It felt odd.
Standing there in the dark & quiet living room, staring at the front door, waiting for the banging to start again, wondering who
(what)
was behind, thinking it could be my ex-stepfather & how I'd like to beat the shit out of him, another idea started to form. An idea that popped up from nowhere but seemed obvious. It's "the Other Guy." It's Backman. It's "the Guy In The Back." He's trying to come in. Don't let him in. Raving madness is behind that fucking door.
So without making any noise I went back to bed. I could not sleep. A while later, birds started to sing, the first cars of people going to work passed by. I laid there, looking at the ceiling, waiting for the banging to start again until I fell asleep again.
Tonight, for the first time in years, I locked the front door before going to bed.