I could still remember that night.
I was just going back home as usual, after work. I was working part-time as a cook in a small restaurant, and part-time as a stuntman since I was quite good at physical things, even if I didn’t look like it. You know, sometimes there was this small guy who had to be super strong in a movie, and do super dangerous things, and you couldn’t use a 2 meters tall guy.
I had survived alligators, falls from a few meters high without any mattress to cushion my fall, super fast races that could’ve killed me if I had made any mistake. I wasn’t very nervous in general and I was always doing my job very professionally. That night, I was coming back home, walking, not stressed, listening to music. Nothing bad could happen. I looked carefully each side of the road, making sure no car was coming. You know, just in case they wouldn’t see me. I crossed and nothing happened. As usual, you know.
I went back home, just thinking about my life at the moment. I had been single for several years now, but I didn’t mind that much. I was used to it. Anyways, having a man – yes, I’m gay, shut up – waiting for me when I’d come back was not exactly a nice thought. I liked being alone after work.
I was thinking about this when I took out my keys and approached the front door.
I was stabbed in the back at the exact moment I touched the doorknob.