John Lindqvist - Let The Right One In aka Let Me In

What will she look like?

He wasn't afraid. He was in a state of… yes… he could not be here, at this time, could not be doing what he was doing. It didn't exist. It wasn't him.

I don't exist and no one can do anything to me.

He had called his dad from Norrtalje and his dad had cried on the phone. Said he would call for someone to go and pick up Oskar. It was the second time in his life Oskar heard his father cry. For a moment Oskar was about to give in. But when his dad had gotten worked up and started yelling about how he had to have his own life and be allowed to do as he damn well pleased in his own house, Oskar had hung up on him.

That was when it had really started, that feeling that he didn't really exist.

The group of boys and girls got off at Angbyplan. One of the guys turned around and shouted into the subway car:

"Sweet dreams, my… my…"

He couldn't think of the word and one of the girls pulled him back with her. Just before the doors closed he tore himself away and ran over to them, holding one open and shouting:

"… fellow passengers! Sweet dreams, my fellow passengers!"

He let go of the door and the subway car started to go. The reading man lowered his book and looked at the young people on the platform. Then he turned to Oskar and looked him in the eyes. And smiled. Oskar smiled back briefly, then pretended to turn his attention back to the Cube.

In his chest a feeling of having… passed muster. The man had looked at him and transmitted the thought, You're alright. What you're doing is good.

He didn't dare look up at the man anymore. He felt like the man knew. Oskar turned the Cube one click, then turned it back.

With the exception of Oskar, two people got off at Blackeberg, from other subway cars. An older guy he didn't recognize and then a rockabilly guy who appeared very drunk. The rockabilly guy walked up to the older guy and shouted:

"Hey man, spare a cigarette?"

"Sorry, don't smoke."

The rockabilly guy didn't appear to hear more than the negative, because he drew a ten kronor note from his pocket and waved it around. "I got ten! One stick is all I need, man."

The guy shook his head and walked away. The rockabilly guy stood still, swaying, and when Oskar walked past he lifted his head and said: "You!" But his eyes narrowed, he focused them on Oskar, and then he shook his head. "No. Nothing. Go in peace, brother."

Oskar kept going up the stairs, up into the subway station. Wondered if the rockabilly guy was planning to pee on the electric rail. The older guy went out through the exit doors. Except for the ticket collector in his booth, Oskar was alone in the station.

Everything was so different at night. The photo shop, florist, and clothing store in the station were dark. The ticket collector sat with his feet up on the counter, reading something. So quiet. The clock on the wall said a few minutes past two. He should be lying in bed now. Sleeping. Should at the very least be sleepy. But no. He was so tired his body felt hollow, but it was a hollowness filled with electricity. Not sleepiness.

A door down by the platform was thrown open and he heard the

rockabilly guy's voice from down there: "And bow down, you officers in your helmets and batons…"

Same song he had been singing. He chuckled and started to run. Ran out the doors, down the hill toward the school, past it and the parking lot. It had started to snow again and the large flakes squelched the heat in his face. He looked up as he was running. The moon was still there, peeking out between the houses.

Once he was in the courtyard he stopped, caught his breath. Almost all the windows were dark, but wasn't there a faint light coming from behind the blinds of Eli's apartment?

What will she look like?

He walked up the sloping yard, glancing at his own dark window. The normal Oskar was lying in there, sleeping. Oskar… pre-Eli. The one with the Pissball in his underpants. That was something he had done away with, didn't need any longer.

Oskar unlocked the door to his building and walked through the basement corridor over to hers, did not stop to see if the stain was still on the floor. Just walked past it. It didn't exist any longer. He had no mom, no dad, no earlier life, he was simply… here. He walked through the door, up the stairs.

Stood there on the landing, looking at the worn wooden door, the empty name plate. Behind that door.

He had imagined he was going to dash up the stairs, make a dive for the bell. Instead he sat down on the next to last step, next to the door.

What if she didn't want him to come?

After all, she was the one who had run away from him. She would maybe tell him to go away, that she wanted to be left alone, that she…

The basement storage room. Tommy's gang.

He could sleep there, on the couch. They weren't there at night, were they? Then he could see Eli tomorrow evening, like normal.

But it won't be like normal.

He stared at the doorbell. Things would not simply return to normal. Something big had to be done. Like running away, hitchhiking, making your way home in the middle of the night to show that it was… important. What he was scared of was not that maybe she was a creature who survived by drinking other people's blood. No-it was that she might push him away.

He rang the bell.

A shrill sound rang out inside the apartment, stopped abruptly when he let go of the button. He stood there, waiting. Rang it again, longer this time. Nothing. Not even a sound.

She wasn't home.

Oskar sat still on the step while disappointment sank like a stone to his stomach. And he suddenly felt so tired, so very tired. He got up slowly, walked down the stairs. Halfway down he had an idea. Stupid, but why not. Walked up to her door again and with short and long tones of the doorbell he spelled out her name in Morse code.

Short. Pause. Short, long, short, short. Pause. Short, short. E… L…I…

Waited. No sound from the other side. He turned to leave when he heard her voice.

"Oskar? Is that you?"

And so it was, after all; joy exploded inside his chest like a rocket blasting off through his mouth with an altogether too-loud:

"Yes!"

In order to have something to do, Maud Carlberg got herself a cup of coffee from the room behind the reception desk, sat down at the darkened counter. She should have finished her shift an hour ago but the police had asked her to wait.

A couple of men-not dressed like police officers-were painstakingly brushing a kind of powder onto the floor where the little girl had walked in her bare feet.

The policeman who had questioned her about what the girl had said, done, what she looked like, had not been friendly. The whole time Maud got the impression from the tone in his voice that she had done the wrong thing. But how could she have known?

Henrik, one of the security guards, whose shift often overlapped

with hers, came over to the reception desk and pointed at her cup of coffee.

"For me?"

"If you like."

Henrik picked up the cup, took a sip, and looked out into the hall. Apart from the men who were brushing the floor for prints there was also a uniformed policeman who was talking to a taxi driver.

"A lot of people tonight."

"I don't understand any of it. How did she get up there?"

"No idea. They're working on it. Looks like she climbed up the walls."

"But surely that's not possible."

"No."

Henrik took a bag of licorice boats out of his pocket and held them out to her. Maud shook her head and Henrik took three boats, put them in his mouth, and shrugged apologetically.

"I stopped smoking. Put on four kilos in two weeks." He made a face. "Christ. You should have seen him."