4:00 AM

Part 1: Ding!

It's late at night and The Writer is seated at his dining table. All the lights in the house are turned off except for the light that's illuminating from The Writer's laptop. He types as much as he can before his sleeping pill start to take effect, and through the midst of it, his sister is sound asleep. The Writer picked up his mug and sips his coffee, but no matter how much coffee he drank, it still couldn't mend the tired look on his face.

Ding! Dong!

The sound of his doorbell startled him. He turned his head towards the door behind him, and then he drew his attention back to his computer. He glanced at the bottom right corner of his computer screen so he could check the time.

[4:01 AM]

His heart rate starts to elevate as he becomes paranoid wondering about who could be ringing his doorbell at such hours. There weren't many possible options once he rules out the friends that he doesn't have and his only family member that just so happens to live with him. His instincts told him that the best decision was to wait it out and maybe the mysterious visitor will go away.

Ding! Dong!

The doorbell rang again but he still wanted to wait in hopes that the mysterious visitor would realize that they had the wrong apartment.

A few seconds later...

Ding! Dong!

The visitor is insistent, they rang three times and still haven't left yet. The Writer then picks up his phone to use as a flashlight and cautiously got up from his chair so that it wouldn't drag on the floor. To make sure that the mysterious visitor didn't hear him approaching, He planted each footstep softly as he walked toward his door, but before doing so, he walks through the kitchen and unsheathes a knife from the knife block. The Writer didn't want to hurt anybody but he also didn't want to be a victim. He tucks the knife in the back of his pants where he can feel a little bit of the cold blade touching his lower back. He then proceeds to walk to the door and carefully lifts the cover of the peephole with his thumb. He looks through it, but he doesn't see anybody.

Ding! Dong!

The doorbell rings as he's looks through his peephole but there were no signs of the visitor, only the wall that's across from his apartment. This made The Writer feel uneasy, his mind went straight into the negative and thought that a burglar, murderer, and or a crazy person was trying break in. He wanted to scare the visitor away, to tell the visitor that he had called the cops or that he had a gun. The Writer knew that it was irrational, so instead of doing anything hasty first. He decided that the best decision was to find out who it was first before jumping the gun.

"Who?!" , The Writer said this loud enough so that it can be heard through the door.

From the other side of the door, The Writer hears, "It's your neighbor!"

Through the peephole, The Writer can now see the mysterious visitor who moved to the left after revealing who they were. The Writer saw the familiar face of his downstairs neighbor who lived in the apartment right under his. He felt a relief but was confused for he only met the neighbor a few times in the building. They would only greet each other when they were getting the mail or getting into the elevator together, but they never really spoke to each other on a personal level. He doesn't even know their name. But out of everybody that lived in the building and out of all times, why would his neighbor be visiting him, he thought.

The Writer then slowly opens his door about one fourth of the way. At first glance, he notices that his neighbor was wearing a baggy gray hoodie, red flannel pajama pants, and light-green crocs. The Neighbor also had bags under their eyes, almost like they haven't slept in awhile.

Despite their abrupt visit, The Writer thought that perhaps his neighbor had a good reason for knocking at his door so late. To his concern, he asked his neighbor, "Hey, is everything alright?"

With a timid voice, The Neighbor said, "I'm sorry for bothering you at this time and I know you probably hate me because I'm knocking on your door so late, so I wanted to start off by apologizing."

The Neighbor's response didn't really answer The Writer's question, it left him more confused. In response to his neighbor, The Writer said,"What?"

"I'm apologizing for knocking on your door so late." The Neighbor said it again as if The Writer didn't hear him the first time.

"Why the fuck are you ringing my doorbell at 4 in the morning!?" Was what The Writer should've asked but he didn't want his intrusive thoughts to speak for him, nor did he care to ask.  Something was off about the neighbors demeanor, it's led The Writer to wonder about his neighbor's mental state. So instead of asking anymore questions, he went along with it and told The Neighbor, "Oh It's fine, I don't hate you."

"Yes you do, everyone does, no one likes me.", The Neighbor said this as they looked down to the floor with a gloomy expression on their face.

"Well, that's what you get for knocking on people's doors so late.", thought The Writer. The Writer understood that all the intrusive thoughts were a sign that he needed to put his mind to rest. The lack of sleep is making him feel anxious and aggressive. The Writer would then compose himself and told The Neighbor, "Trust me, I don't hate you. Everything is fine so let's just not think about it, okay?"

The Neighbor raised their head with a smile and said, "Okay, sorry again for bothering you."

"It's okay, I'm gonna head to bed so have a goodnight."

"Thanks, Goodnigh..."

Slam!

The Writer closed the door on his neighbor mid sentence and sighs in relief after getting all worked up for nothing. He couldn't believe that his downstairs neighbor was a lunatic this whole time. He chuckles as he thinks about how crazy that entire conversation was and how his sister wouldn't believe him when he tells her in the morning. He walked back to his kitchen table so he could finish up his writing.

Ding! Dong!

The doorbell rang again...