About ten years ago I was recently divorced and living alone in a one-bedroom apartment. The place was clean and the rent was decent. One of those places that had a porter, I felt safe here.

I was alone and loving it focused on my career and not on my clingy ex-husband. Things were finally looking up for me.

At the time I was working pretty late at the office and would often stumble into my apartment sleep-deprived in the early hours of the morning and wake up by 6:30, 7ish to start the day.

I started noticing that in the morning my door would be unlocked sometimes, I usually dismissed this as my sleep-dead brain thinking that the bed looked more appealing than locking the door.

Another thing that I noticed since moving in, was that I seemed to misplace things more than I used to, little things like a hairbrush or a nail polish, that sort of thing. It wasn't really that big of a deal, just enough to be a slight annoyance in my day.
The longer I lived there the more frequently I seemed to forget to lock the door. At first, it was every once in a while, then it seemed like an almost daily occurrence.

More things went missing, things like pictures, shaving razors and most disturbingly, my underwear. This went on for long enough that I started to get a little paranoid. I started to take the time at night to make sure the door was locked, I got into a habit of every night after I locked the door to turn the handle three times and say to myself "It's locked, it's locked, it's locked."

Time after time I would wake up and the door would be unlocked. One time I even tried staying up all night to watch the door, but I ended up falling asleep on my couch.
I decided that my mind was not reliable enough to stay up all night so I invested in a video camera. I went all out and bought the fanciest camera that I could get my hands on. So, one night I set the camera up facing the door. I hid the camera under a pile of towels on the floor. I locked the door and went to bed.
When I woke up, my apartment looked normal. Nothing missing that I could see. I decided to check the tape. I fast-forwarded through hours of footage, not seeing anything. I was just about to give up when I noticed the handle of the doo r… it slowly crept open.

A figure slid through the half-opened door. And walked towards the camera. It paused. Looked around as if it was listening for something, and then walked forward into direct view of the camera.

I paused the camera, and the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck started to rise. I was staring directly into the face of the maintenance man of the building. I could see those big thick glasses and curly hair.

I had no doubt who it was. I played the tape a little more. He looked comfortable as he walked around the apartment. Then he turned and walked towards my bedroom and out of the view of the camera.
I didn't know what to do, sobbing I called the police. I tried to explain over the phone but couldn't. Soon enough two officers arrived at my doorstep. I told them everything and showed them the tape. I remember seeing the blood drain from their faces. They promised me that I was safe and that they were going to get this guy.
I needed to lie down, but I didn't want to be alone. One of the officers offered to stand outside my apartment door as I took a nap. As I was lying in bed unable to sleep but too drained to move, something kept nagging at me. I laid there for a few minutes tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable or rest.

My mind was racing. Then a realisation slowly washed over me and chilled me to the bone. We watched the tape, and saw the man enter my home ... but we never saw him leave.

I froze and then started shaking. I needed to get to the front door. I sat up and looked around the room. I couldn't see anyone. I swung my legs over the side of the bed cautiously, my feet hit the cold wooden floor and I felt a warm breath on my ankles.

I raced out of my apartment as fast as I could and to the safety of the police officer. He called for a backup. They found the man under my bed, clutching a knife and a Polaroid camera.

To this day I cannot sleep alone...