Aaron had no intention of ever crawling through your window — considering he was over twice your age and you were the daughter of his best friend — but at midnight he found himself walking down the street from his house to yours and climbing his way up to your room on the second story.

It started at dinner when you slipped up and mentioned something your parents don’t agree on. And with their already failing marriage, it broke out into an argument that sent you to your room. Shouting soon thereafter followed, echoing from the kitchen all the way up to your room. It was nothing you hadn’t heard before but something about this time seemed far more detrimental.

Excruciating time passed at an agonizingly tortuous pace, the shouting subsequently drawing louder and overwhelmingly closer. Doors slammed, echoing through tense halls, rattling walls, coming right from your parents’ bedroom as the relentless screaming match persisted. Yells danced throughout the house and there was only one thing clear amidst harsh cries: Your mom was trying to pack up and leave.

In a blurry daze of tears and undeniable amounts of fear, you fumbled for your phone and dialed the first number you saw, untimely selecting Aaron’s number, your neighbour and your dad’s best friend. The second Aaron heard your tears through the phone, he was already heading out the door and to your house. Which is how he found himself knocking at your window, waiting for you to let him in.