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the bathroom cabinet. Some in my nightstand drawers. I placed one under my mattress and the biggest one under my pillow.
    I locked my bedroom door and pushed my dresser in front of it. I climbed under the cool, clean sheets, and rested my head on the fluffy, down pillow. I might not have been able to rest easy, but I was going to go to sleep knowing I was as prepared as I could be.
    I sat my cell phone down on my night stand and plugged it into the charger. The battery was almost dead, but a couple hours of charging would’ve been all it needed. I typed in 9-1-1 so it would be ready to press at a moment’s notice, and within seconds I fell asleep.
    When I awoke the next morning, I’d almost forgotten about the night before. The birds were chirping loudly in the maple trees outside my windows and the sun was peeking through the curtains. I sprawled out in my bed, stretching my muscles from head to toe, and took a deep breath. As soon as my eyes came into focus, I glanced up and saw that my dresser was sitting in front of my door, and immediately it all came back to me.
    I hopped out of bed as fast as I could and ran to the front window of my bedroom. The truck was gone. He wasn’t there anymore. At least that’s what I assumed.
    I wondered when he left, how I didn’t hear it, or where he went. I hoped against all hope that he’d gone back to Tulsa, never to return again, but I had my doubts. That would’ve been too good to be true.
    I pushed my dresser back to its original place against the east wall and made my way to the bathroom. The clock on the wall read seven am and I had to be to work by nine. I had plenty of time, if I could keep myself on task and not be so distracted.
    I brushed my teeth and flipped on the shower, turning it to the hottest setting I could stand. The entire room filled with steam. I just wanted to feel clean. In a weird way, a hot shower was always like a fresh start for me.
    I tore off my nightgown and stepped into the shower, one foot at a time. The water was almost scalding at first, but I quickly grew used to it. I lathered my body with a coconut body scrub and massaged a generous amount of clarifying shampoo into my long, blonde hair. I rinsed off after a bit and doused my hair in my favorite peppermint deep conditioner and stood under the running water.
    As I let the water mist around me and run down my soft skin, I thought I heard something downstairs. I suddenly froze and tried to remember where I hid all the knives. I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair and flew out of the shower, wrapping my robe around myself and tying it tight.
    I grabbed one of the knives I’d planted in the bathroom and opened the door. The steam escaped around me and I was soon enveloped by a burst of the cool air from the other side. My heart pounded in my chest as I quietly walked down the hall and towards the stairs.
    I stepped down each stair as quietly as possible, trying to avoid the known-to-be-squeaky steps. I stopped when I got to the bottom and looked around the main floor, trying hard to see if anything looked out of the ordinary.
    I glanced over at the front door, which was still locked and dead bolted. The back door was also still locked. A wave of relief washed over me as soon as I saw the cat’s dish overturned. It was my freaking cat. The cat I couldn’t stand but didn’t have the heart to get rid of. My ex, Jeremy, and I had gotten it on our first anniversary, and when we broke up, he didn’t want her. She was a bitch of a cat, but I wasn’t a cruel person, so I kept her. She mostly hung out in the basement for whatever reason, so most of the times I never saw her or heard her. Half the time I would forget that I ever had one.
    “Are you hungry, Delilah?” I asked as I walked over to her overturned dish. She rubbed her gray fur against my leg and purred. She was only nice when she wanted something or when she was about to get fed. That was about the extent of our relationship.
    I