I picked my pathetic self up off the scratched, worn, hardwood floor, and walked towards the door. I needed to talk to some one and since the swift departure of my boyfriend, I had only one option at 12 in the morning. I crossed the hall way silently, on my tippy toes, making sure to make no noise. I felt as if I was entering enemy territory, like I was risking my life by knocking on the door. I raised my hand to the door, took a deep breath, and tapped out “two bits” onto the door. I heard the lock click, and broke out into a cold sweat. He opened the door a crack and muttered a groggy,
“Who is it?”