The library was empty on Wednesday nights. That’s why you went. No small talk with strangers, no forcing yourself to smile just to get what you came for. It’s just you, the computer, ~and the boy that follows you home.~ On this particular night, you collide with something other than the glass sliding doors on exit. This thing is not a thing at all, but a bloodied teenager in a pair of goggles, staring down at you like a barn owl on heroin. “Hello, Sweetheart. I’ve been looking for you.”