11:00 P.M.
My eyes were accustomed to the dark naturally. It just came to me with birth. I needed no lights to navigate, or had no problem with my eyes adjusting.
I turned the lights out in my bedroom, and laid down. I laid on my back, and quickly enough to startle me, a shadow appeared in my door. At first, I thought it was my dad, coming to say goodnight. But he didn't move from my doorway.
I sat up slowly, glad that he didn't disappear when I looked at him.
My shadow follower didn't seem to want to hurt me, despite the angry look on his face. I wasn't worried about him hurting me. He just startled me. I didn't understand why I was seeing him.
I figured I was probably insane, but I motioned him into the room. He moved his hand from the door frame, to his side, and took one step in. I continued to wave him farther into the room. When he reached the end of my bed, he sat there and didn't come any closer.
I felt his body weight push the mattress down, so there was no doubt he was real.
But he couldn't have been anymore than 17 years old. And I'd never seen him before in my life.
I pulled my feet up under the blankets, closer to me, under the blanket. I saw his eyes follow the movement, and then I leaned forward, ever so slowly.
"Who are you?" I whispered to him. His eyes widened slightly at the sound of my voice, and I noticed that they were a golden brown color, unnatural. His skin color was pale white, almost glowing in the darkness. But, he relaxed, and let out a quiet and light laugh. However, he didn't seem to want to do first introductions. So I did.
"My name is Dez Cullen. But I think you already know who I am." He watched me curiously.
"Well, if you didn't know me, why would you be here, with me in my bedroom? And how would you have gotten past my father?" I explained. A flash of agony crossed his face.
"Are you alright?" I asked immediately. He still didn't answer me.
"Adopted." I clarified after several moments. "I don't know my actual father. He and my biological mother ran out on me." His eyebrows furrowed, and so did mine. I didn't understand why I was telling him these things. I didn't even know his name.
"Well, it's the better of my two thoughts." I paused. "The other is that they just didn't want me." Another flash of agony. But he remained silent.
"I prefer the first thought." I continued. "It seems less likely, but I'd rather go the rest of my life believing that versus the second thought." He didn't move.
"Turned seven today." I said, not understanding why he wouldn't talk back. He was clearly a real person. I felt compelled to reach out and touch him, to make sure of it. I leaned forward again, and this time, his head snapped over and looked at me, his expression intense again.
"Am I really this crazy?" I whispered to myself, my hand reaching out to touch him. His hand went up, grasping my wrist. His grip was like iron. My hand didn't move.
I don't know what came over me, but the next thing I knew, I had him around the neck, my knee in his chest cavity, and he was on his back. But, his hand never left the grip it had on my left wrist.
Now that I was touching him, there was no doubt in my mind that he was real. His skin was slightly cooler than mine, and tougher than steel. But I held him there, and he held my wrist. And then he laughed. A low, amused chuckle.
"My name is Edward." He said, letting go of my wrist and putting both his hands up in a sign of surrender. I leaned my weight off of him, and released his neck.
Edward sat up, back to his original position.
"How do you know me?" I asked him. Edward frowned.
"Do you have a conspiracy theory for this too?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Part of Brian's family?" I'd never met Brian's family. Edward smiled.
"Possibly. Not a bad guess."
"Dom's?"
"Another good one. Do I look like a Toretto?" I looked at him. He had my ears, and my nose. We had the same sharp jawline and slightly pointed chin. My eyes widened slightly.
"Will you be here again tomorrow night?" Edward asked me. I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Every night. I live here." Edward frowned again.
"Maybe I'll tell you tomorrow."
"Wait," I started.
"Dez!" Brian whisper-yelled. And Edward was gone.
"Crap," I mumbled. Brian appeared in the doorway.
"Who are you talking to?" He asked.
"Sam," I answered quickly. Sam is my 2 year old German Shepard that I've raised from a newborn pup. He sleeps at the end of my bed or on the floor next to my bed, protecting me. Brian raised his eyebrows skeptically. I stared at him, letting the innocence wash over my face.
"How many secrets does Sam know?" I looked at me dog.
All except one, I thought.
"All of them." I told Brian. And he laughed, leaving the room. The light from the kitchen illuminated the patch on the floor where Sam was laying. I yawned and reached down to pet him.
"You know all the secrets after I tell you this one. And it's a good one, I promise." Sam's ears perked up, so I knew he was listening. I started the story, and when I got to my own personal views of the situation, I swear I could hear Edward's light, comforting laugh in the background.