I am home alone; my roommate is out there still partying at some club with his college friends. I had finished my dinner, though the dishes in the sink could still wait to be cleaned. The TV was broadcasting some high school movie; I stared at it uninterested. Why was I still watching it? I don’t know; I was too tried to process to think now. I decided to go to sleep.

I woke up to the doorbell ringing at 3:27 am. It was 3:27 am, and my roommate decided to disrupt my sleep just so that I could open the door for him. No, it is not going to happen; he has the keys and can open it himself. Ding ding ding ding ding ding. I groaned. Well, oh well. Let’s not disturb the neighbors now. I opened the main door. Jonas was wearing a grey button-down shirt and black jeans and sunglasses.

“Thanks for opening the door, Christopher.” “No problem, sir, but you gotta not repeat this and perhaps use your own keys to open it. That would be grateful of you.” I told him as he began walking towards the living room couch.

“Oh, the apartment key; yeah, I forgot to take them with me.” He says this after settling on the couch. 

“You better not forget them next time, or else you are camping outside this apartment.”

“Trust me, Christopher, it won’t happen again,” he says while staring towards the fridge. Was he staring towards it? He was wearing sunglasses, so it was hard to tell. Wait a minute. “Jonas, why on earth are you wearing sunglasses at night?”

He scratches his neck in almost irritation and says, “My eyes hurt a lot. I am outside most of the time during daylight, and then I am staring at mobile and laptop screens the other times. It has put a lot of strain on them, so I am reducing exposure to high-intensity light on them." He goes completely silent after this, and his head is facing in my direction.

“Oh, well, I hope you feel better soon, though I think you should just go and rest in your room now and give your eyes rest; it’s already late now.” I told him as I began to feel heavy-eyed. “Night’ Jon,” I say while going towards my room.

“Hey, I got a nice drink in the fridge; come on, join me for a gla -”

I shut my room door, lock it, and head straight to bed. We have to head to class in a few hours, and he wants to drink? Isn’t he already drunk? But as usual, he always comes completely drunk from club parties; he can barely muster a word and passes out in his bedroom.

My phone rings, and I almost jump out of bed, not sure when I fell asleep, but who calls at 4 in the morning? “Hey, I am sorry to disturb you so late at night.” At least the girl is apologizing for calling so late. Good job, I think to myself. “Umm, who are you?” I asked her if there was some music going on in the background from her end.

“Oh, I am Lyla, Jonas’s friend; he gave me your number.” “Okay, but why are you calling me?” “Well, Jonas had way too many drinks than he can handle and has gotten a little out of control, so ca- HEY Just sit down already and don’t drink now; you are done for the night,  Jon."

“What are you talking about?” I ask her, but I do not hear her voice this time but some other familiar voice, which makes my heart beat slightly out of control.

“Hey, Chrisy, how are you doing, man? Lyla won’t let me drink; tell her.”

His voice is cut by now Lyla “I was saying, Chris, can you please pick up your roommate from the club? He cannot come back to his apartment on his own, and none of us can drop him off because most of us have left; it’s just me and my two drunken buddies, Jonas and Mia, who need some help. I can take Mia back to her dorm, but can you please help me out here with Jonas?”

Just what is going on? I hear a knock on my door.

“Christopher, I know you are awake. Come on, join me for a drink. It's of a very good brand, and I bet you cannot afford to, even in this lifetime.” I freeze if Jonas is still out there drunk. Who was I talking to this whole time?

“Hello? Hello, hey, umm, Chris, are you still there? Look, please. You really need to come here ASAP. I will share with you the location. You cannot just leave your roommate out like this. I will make sure he pays back to you for this and gives him a good scolding.”

“Jonas is here,” I whisper in my phone.

“What? I don’t get what you said.”

“He is here in the apartment; we just talked.”

“Christopher! Man, I have been outside your room for almost half an hour. Come on, not just drink with me.”

I could hear frustration in his voice; the knocking was beginning to become louder and louder every second.

“Chris, what’s going on? Are you coming or not?”

I could hear the girl’s fussing over, which I tried to lower from my phone. “Jonas is here in the apartment and is right now asking me to drink with me.” I tell her I feel uneasiness in my mind.

“Jonas is here with me in the club right now; he passed out like just a minute ago while we were talking. Who is that with you, his twin? No wait, Jonas has big sister.”

The knocking on the door now began to sound like banging: “You are really annoying me now, Christopher; just open this door!” Jonas or whoever was really losing his patience and it’s not helping in this confusion.

I hear a chime from my phone; it was a message from an unknown number sharing an image. I click on the image, and my eyes just stare at the downloaded image with a shudder. That place had dim lighting similar to some party places, and at some sofa-like table there was a girl in a gown dress, face down on the table, and next to her was a man in a button-down shirt, his face facing up; he was leaning on the sofa. Even though his face was not clearly visible, the familiar, semi-muscular build of that guy was enough for me to know. It was Jonas.

“Hey, HEY! Open the door before I break it!” The bang was becoming way too loud.

I hear the girl's voice on the phone, “I don’t think that person with you is Jonas; I am sure of it."

“Christopher, open it; don’t pretend to sleep; this much noise should be enough to wake you up again, right??” I need to get out of here, whoever is on the other end of the door. Jonas or not, for some reason my mind says it does not have to go. –

“Hey, are you alright? I am hearing a lot of voices from your end.”

My thoughts were cut off by Lyla. The window’s big enough that I can at least leave this room. Facing him head-on is not very appealing to me. “I am fine; the door can stop him for some time; the window is enough for me to fit through.”

"Wait, don’t you live on the first floor?” she asks with concern.

I hear my door’s handle move. A shiver runs down my spine. The door’s handle began shaking vigorously. Jonas, or not, was trying to forcefully open the door; he must have already realized it was locked. “Stop acting like a child; stop being so hard; oh, screw it.” “Lyla, please get some help here.” I whisper on my phone.

There was no noise from the other side of the door, but some light footsteps were sounds my ears could sense, or was it my mind going haywire?

“You are not that dumb to not realize by now you just let a stranger into your apartment, hmm?”

The whole door shook due to force, and whatever that guy was saying began to go over my head. I was not listening to him now. I opened the window and was now sitting at its sill. The height surely did not seem that high before, but with night time and some street light contribution, the height felt a lot. The door being almost busted was making me anxious. I looked down towards the window's sunshade, which was supported by steel rods similar to my window’s shade.

"Christopher, you had your chance; you won’t be spared now.” The doorbell opens.

I jump down at the sunshade. I hear some metal bending the moment my weight falls on it. I don’t waste a second and immediately jump off the shade and land on the ground. “Christopher, you can’t escape; come back!” I see him, gripping tightly to the window sill; the streetlights were enough to tell that he was staring right into my eyes.

Speaking of eyes, I could see that they were surely not red due to some strain on them; they were totally different and of an odd colour.

“Christopher, yo-.” He moves away from the window.

I sprint toward the nearest convenience store, wishing to just see any other person other than him.

Rushing towards the counter, I begged, “He is after me; please help!” The auburn-haired guy looks stunned by his presence. “I am sorry, but what are you saying? Who is Af-?"

“Please just give me some place to hide. I don’t know what he wants from me, but please help!”

My phone rings, and without wasting another minute, I pick it up.

“The cops will be there in a few minutes at your place; hold on just for some more time.” It was Lyla, “Mia and Jones are still with me; we are in my car now at the club's parking lot.” The auburn guy sighs and says, "Sir, I am sorry; I cannot exactly help you with this."

I glance at his name tag and plead, "Please, Mack, The cops will be here in some time; I just need a place to hide till they arrive. I will be out of your hair the moment the cops are near my apartment.”

“Ok, head towards the staffroom and turn left from there; the locker room should do.” He points toward the door behind him.

“Thank you.”

I try to say it with as much gratification as I can display, but then I hear that voice again: "Christopher, stop playing hide and seek.” That intruder was screaming outside, somewhere near the store. I rush towards the room.

“That’s really loud for an average man’s shouting.”

These were the only words I heard from Mack before moving into hiding. I was praying that he did not see me for who knows how long when I heard the sirens. I looked at both sides outside the store; I could see red and blue lights.

Mack said, “That guy was screaming like crazy. He headed towards the other side of this street 5 minutes ago. I have not seen him since then. You should head towards the cops.”

I thank him again and head towards my apartment, hoping to not encounter that intruder again.

“Are you Christopher Wilson?” I nod.

“Are you hurt anywhere, Christopher?"  asks the man in uniform to me.

I respond, “I am alright, sir.”

The cop points towards my floor and says, “A girl by the name Lyla called and said you were in trouble; we checked your apartment; one of the room’s doors is broken; we got some noise complaints from your neighbours."

“Did you find the intruder, sir?” I ask. He looks toward the other cop coming from the building and says, “No, we have no clue about him yet.”