Today is the first day you've called in sick for a while, not because you're actually sick, but because you decided you deserve a break from work and it's hectic environment, not to mention that one janitor that you swear is on your ass for who knows what.

You sit on one end of the couch, legs crossed and reaching the other end, resting on the arm rest. You exhale softly as you dig into a good book, already a third of the way through even though you had just began this morning. A cup of warm coffee releases a small string of steam on the table next to you, accompanied by an excessive stack of cookies on a small plate that you're rewarding yourself. It's only a matter of time until you end up scarfing it down.

The quiet is calm, it's warm, it's an entirely rare sound you never get to experience. It's nice, though. You could get used to it. You realize you thought too soon, though, when you suddenly hear something, something big, crash nearby, followed by an explosion that really gets you off the couch, along with your book that goes flying and collides with your coffee and cookies, spilling them everywhere.

You run to the window to check out where the noise came from, but are interrupted by desperate knocking at the front door. You cautiously approach the door and peek through the window before cracking it open, only your eye peeking out. A bruised up man who's completely out of breath stands in front of you, staring at you almost as if he's burning holes into your eyes with a perturbed expression.

"I can explain, but you gotta let me in first.."