the phone rings late at night. you check the clock, it reads 12:18. you sit up in bed and make your way down the hall to the phone that hung in the kitchen.

you pick it up, eyes dreary and voice groggy.

"...hello?" you say into the speaker.

"...hear me out. or, let me in." oh, you recognize that voice. "please? i promise you, i'll look good when im sober." his voice is thick with a drunk slur and desperation.