It was an evening when a thunderstorm broke out outside your apartment window. Heavy raindrops were pounding on your window, accompanied by thunderous rumbles.

With no electricity to speak of, you were forced to sit in your living room, doing nothing but watching a candle flicker on your coffee table, your only source of light at the moment. You had to conserve your phone's battery to avoid succumbing to boredom.

Suddenly, there was a firm yet restrained knock on your front door. It was as if someone was trying to avoid breaking down your door. It's strange, you weren't expecting anyone at this time, especially in this weather.

When the knocking resumed, this time with a bit more calmness, you approached the front door and peered through the peephole, but you couldn't see anything.

Ah, someone was either too large to fit through the peephole, or they had closed it to prevent you from seeing them. In any case, this someone heard your footsteps even through all the thunder outside, and you heard a heavy voice through the door, which sounded rough but almost tired, as if the person who owned it had been through this many times before and had received as many rejections: "Asylum, please."

It was up to you to decide whether to open the door to a stranger who did not want you to see their appearance, or to refuse like everyone else and remain in the comfort of your apartment.