hope | t.h.

o n e

I open my eyes to that annoying sound. I'm not sure how long it has been continuing for, but it did wake me up.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes and look at the blurry red light of the clock, sat there on my bedside table. All that I could decipher were the numbers 3 and 5, side by side, making it about 3:50 in the morning. About 4 hours until I have to actually wake up for work.

I sit up on my bed, looking at the floor, and listening to the same knock on my door. Anxiety fills my chest as I stand up to grab my glasses.

"Who could be knocking on my door at almost 4 in the morning?" I thought as I slid my glasses onto my face, adjusting my eyes to the clearness of my room.

Who would want to see me?

Anxiety fills my chest as I realize that the knock just wouldn't stop. 6 times already since I woke up and it's still ongoing.

knock knock knock

I made my way to the door to my room and open it, quietly, not wanting the person or murderer to know that I was going downstairs. This is a bad idea. I should just call the cops. Nope. I left my phone in my room.

I find the handrail to the stairs and go down the steps of the stairs, carefully yet quietly. Each step was silent. Heel, toe, heel, toe.

knock knock knock

I speed up my pace but still walking cautiously down the cold, wooden steps.

I made it down the perfectly numbered, 20 steps of my staircase and tip-toed to the kitchen.

I tried to duck down a bit even though they could not see me either way.

I made my way to the kitchen, feeling the marble flooring on the bottom of my foot.

I go to the edge of the counter. I carefully slide out a knife from the black knife holder with a capacity of 6 knives in total, taking out the biggest one.

I know that this is ridiculous but better safe than murdered.

I carry the knife in my right hand and head towards the door which was close now.

My chest starts pounding, knowing that I was in this situation currently. This is my life at the moment. At this second, this minute. I'd have to open the door in seconds. Who could this be? Is this the last day on Earth for me? Hopefully. A part of me hopes it is but a part of me hopes it isn't.

My palms start to sweat from holding the knife tightly, but also from anxiety. I twitch at the fact that this was happening to me.

I finally hear a thud, as if someone had kicked my front door. I jumped and let out a quiet gasp, hoping the person wouldn't shoot through the door or anything. I place my hand over my mouth, scared that I would let something else out of my mouth.

My hands were shaking as this was it. This was when I knew I had to open the door. Or I'd have to call the cops, but they'd probably hear me, break in, and kill me, as I talk to the cops.

Nervously, I peeped through the peep hole and saw a man, brown hair, brown eyes. He wasn't facing the door or looking around my porch now. The flashlight of his phone was on, considering it was dark, but all he could pay attention to was whatever he was doing on his phone.

I tripped and I pushed the door a little, causing him to look at the door. My heart skipped a beat and I quickly crouched down, hoping he wouldn't kill me.

"Harrison!" The man yelled.

I looked at myself and thought about it, having the anxiety get the better of me, hence it making me blank out.

I realized that I was no Harrison and took it that he had the wrong house.

I kept quiet for a few until he continued to talk.

"Haz! Man, I know you're in there!"

Like a safe idiot, I did not unlock the door, but I screamed back. A safe idiot, yep."I'm not Harrison! You have the wrong house!"

Now, I regretted it even more. My heart was going 100 mph now. He knows I'm home and he knows how I sound like. Oh god.

There was a long pause between the both of us. "Oh... Sorry!" He talks, this time, in a softer tone.

I watch him walk down the few steps of my porch and use his flashlight to guide himself.

I back away from the peep hole, twist the 2 locks on the front door, and slide off the little chain.

I grab the handle and open the door, having the cold breeze hit my body. I realize that the knife was still in my hand, so I hid it behind my back.

He turns around to look at me, flashing the bright light at me from his phone. I cringe and close my eyes from the brightness.

"S-sorry a-again." He stutters and turns the flashlight off.

Like the person who says a lot of what's on my mind, I decided to tell him without even thinking for a moment.

"I thought you were out for blood." I try to chuckle it off to make it seem not as bad as it really is.

I could tell that he was confused for a moment but quickly understood it. "I was meant to knock on my mate's door but here we are. Sorry, again, for waking you up. I better get going now." I could hear the nervousness in his voice. His voice wasn't as deep as most people's which made me feel this small bit of security in myself.

"Have a good one." I said as he turned around to leave. I didn't even notice that I was watching him walk to his mate's house with the door wide open. I follow his figure as he takes a left and continues to walk.

He probably thinks I'm a creep. At least I'll never see him ever again. I hate interacting with people. It gives me this rush in my body, but not a good rush.

ⓐⓤⓣⓗⓞⓡ'ⓢ ⓝⓞⓣⓔ

I know I right too quickly but I'm trying a different method for my stories and parts at the moment. I hope you enjoy part one. Please give me feedback about it. I want to improve on my writing. This part was written weeks ago. Maybe last month. I've really been trying to perfect everything and make sure I like everything how it is. 💕