Richard Haywood

A soft tap made you jerk away from the book you were engrossed in. You turned your head toward the window from where the sound had come.

It pounded on the clear windowpane. A bright flash of lightning illuminated the heavy, cloudy sky.

You frowned as the dark figure stared back at you. It took you a few seconds to recognize the whispering voice that came with it: “Let me in, come on, hurry up!”

Richard, of course. But why was he at your house? He'd left you about a month ago. His banging got louder as he begged you to let him in. He looked so pathetic, his hair dripping wet as he stood there in the rain. If he hadn't been going to wake your parents if he kept banging, you would have let him stay out there a little longer, in the cold and the downpour.

“I did something wrong, they’re looking for me. I’m not joking now, let me in!” he pleaded.

What did I expect you to think? 'Oh yeah, my sexy ex-boyfriend who cheated on me. Sure, I'll let you into my house at 11 pm on any random Tuesday.' Maybe I was more delusional than you remembered.

Although she looked quite adorable, her blue eyes were full of fear or despair, her short blond hair was a soggy mess, trembling behind your bushes.

“The police! The police are looking for me, let me in!” His voice sounded more pleading; you’d never seen him so pathetically desperate. A clap of thunder rumbled, making the floorboards tremble slightly beneath your feet.

He's screwed. Are you letting him in? - I can't think of anything, but I guess it's okay.

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