Call 911

You casually glance across the kitchen, where your phone sits on the counter. A distance of three steps separates you from help, but if someone (and you have a pretty good idea who) is in your house, dripping blood on the floor, it might as well be three miles. You stand, your heart beginning to pound as you take one step, then another. You raise one arm, reaching...

"Don't move," commands a familiar voice. You freeze.

"Luke," you say. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you, I need somewhere to hide. The sliding door was open and I took a chance that this was your place. Now back away from the phone." You start to turn around. "Stop. I said back away. Don't look at me."

You feel a new shiver of fear creep down your spine as you slowly back up. "Why? If I see you, will you have to kill me?"

"No. I'm not going to kill you. I just...I don't want you to be afraid of me."

It's a little late for that, you think to yourself. "Why would seeing you make me afraid? Are you disfigured or something? 'Cause I have a cousin who was injured in Afghanistan, and seeing him doesn't scare me at all."

"No, it's nothing like that," Luke says quietly. "You've never seen someone like me before, and humans always fear what they don't understand."