Stephanie murmured in her sleep, but didn’t wake, as I crept out of bed. I pulled on my jeans and trudged down the stairs, trying to shake off the memory of last night’s argument; such arguments were becoming all too common these days. I didn’t understand how she could be so much fun, so loving, but then within minutes could behave like she was from a different planet. She was constantly disagreeing with me. I’d never understood Stephanie really, and maybe after two years, it was now too late.
When I reached the kitchen and flicked on the kettle, I noticed a small light in the garden, as if someone was shining a torch. I opened up the window so that I could see without the reflection of my own face obscuring my view. Sure enough, there was still a small light in the garden, and it was getting closer. My heartbeat quickened, but I carried on staring out, hoping whatever it was would come into focus. Eventually, I saw something I didn’t recognize: a small, willowy figure, with eyes but no nose or mouth, and a light beaming from its stomach. It had no hair, and its skin looked silky smooth, like that of a Mexican Salamander. Our eyes met. It didn’t appear to be afraid of me. I clenched my jaw to stop it shaking.
“Can I help you?” I stammered.
The figure stared at me. I instantly felt stupid for thinking that it might speak back to me. Of course it couldn’t respond: it had no mouth. I paused, trying to figure out what to do next, when suddenly I heard its response. Well, I didn’t hear it; there was no sound. But it was there, in my head, as a thought.
“It’s not me that needs the help,” it said.
The unnerving thing about this was that, as it was in my head, it was really my voice that I heard, speaking to me.
“What do you mean?” I said aloud, again feeling self-conscious and absurd.
“Don’t blame your girlfriend for being different from you, for disagreeing with you.” The eyes bore into me. “When I’m gone, close the window, and look again.”
I opened my mouth, but closed it again without saying anything. As quickly as it had appeared, the creature retreated up the garden until all I could see was that small light, then that too vanished, as if someone had blown out a candle. Still shaking, I closed the kitchen window. I stared out of it, as hard as I could, but all I could see was me.
