Aaron. [Aaron Paul]

Eighteen.

{*UNEDITED*}

Sometime after I wake up the next morning, there is a knock at the door. I sit there in my bed listening to the silence, waiting for Zeke to open it for us, but nothing happens. No "Hello" or "How ya' doing?" just silence.

I want to yell Zeke's name out but I suggest to myself that he is sleeping. Just get it yourself, you lazy bum. It's probably Aaron. 

I pull the blankets off of me and shimmy into my slippers. As I shuffle down the stairs the knock rings through the house once again. "Hold on!" I yell, pulling my little blanket further onto my body.

Once I get down, I get the key, unlock the door, and then turn the knob. "Hello?" I greet the guest, but to my surprise, there's nobody standing on our porch. I pinch my eyebrows up in confusion, and step my left foots outside. "Um. . ." I say, peering to the right. "Hello?" I echo, stepping all the way out and looking to the left. 

I'm starting to get a little nervous, my brain telling me that it's the same guy at the gas station here to lock me up. But with a few deep breaths, I manage to calm myself down enough to turn around back around.

As I head inside I hear something shuffle around behind me. I gasp and out of habit, turn back around to face the street. Nothing. Nothing moving or lurking or peeking. Just nothing.

"The wind." I say to myself, almost sternly. And with that, I march back into my house, slamming the door behind me.

I can only get to the kitchen before I'm yelling for Zeke to help me make breakfast. "Wake up!" I say, pulling the cereal and milk out onto the counter. In return to my yells, I hear the floorboards creaking upstairs. "Finally." I mumble, pouring a bowl for myself. Zeke trudges down the stairs and comes into the kitchen, stopping to lean against the door frame.

"When did mom leave?" I ask, crossing the room to the table.

"Last night while you were at Aaron's." his voice is tired. But he pulls himself away from the doorway and starts to prepare himself a waffle. "And why did you get home so late? I was worried." he says, his back turned to me.

I take a bite of my breakfast and debate whether or not to tell him about the Military situation.

"Uh, we just got caught up in dinner and our conversation. Sorry." I decide no and just continue to eat.

Just then, as Zeke sits down across from me, the doorbell rings followed by a loud pounding on the door. Zeke jumps, and then shakes his head. "That better not be the damn landlord. I told him I was working on getting the bills paid as soon as I started my new job."

I frown at him. He hadn't told me the bills were slipping, and now I felt like I needed to help.

"Actually, I don't think that's the landlord. Someone - earlier this morning - rang the bell and ran. No one was there when I went to answer it." I say, standing up. I start to walk away, and then stop. "Come with me." I say to Zeke, gesturing him towards me.

He hesitates to stand up and trail after me.

"What did you do?" he asks.

"Run back inside." I answer.

We get to the door and I stand behind Zeke as he swings the door open. Once again, we stand there looking like idiots, staring at the empty porch. "Am I imagining things?" I ask him, resting my hands on his shoulders.

He just shakes his head as we continue to inspect the empty front yard. "I mean," Zeke starts, "It could just be some stupid kids playing a prank." he suggests. 

The comment makes me feel better, but there's still a small hint of some fear left in me. I guess it'd be strange if there wasn't. 

We walk back into the kitchen after shutting, and locking, the door. "Don't worry about it." Zeke says, sitting down. I nod and sit back in front of my bowl. I stir my cereal around with my spoon for a good long while, my appetite vanished, and then remember what Zeke said earlier. 

"Are you really behind on the bills?" I ask.

"It's a normal thing to happen," he says back.

"I know, but why didn't you--" I can't even finish my sentence before the banging starts up again. It sends a chill through my spine, along with Zeke annoyingly and fearfully looking back at it.

"Open up!" the first time the person has spoken. And a scream almost escapes my mouth as he kicks our little blue door.

"Zeke!" I gasp as he stands up. "That's not the kids!" 

But Zeke already knows. And he's creeping towards the front door, grabbing an umbrella from the hook on the wall. I stay in the kitchen, mumbling for God to please keep us alive. I'm past the point of paranoia, clutching the edge of the table and tightening my jaw out of fear. This shouldn't be happening in response to a knock at the door.

Zeke gets to the door, and stands behind it as he reaches forward and swings it open. With super-sonic speed, he leaps forward and pushes the point of the umbrella towards the stranger standing in front of him.

"Whoa, mate!" the person yells, jumping back. The first thing I notice is his Australian accent, thick and sounding just like someone I used to know.

As a short silence fills the house, I try not to think about Dylan. It'll make me too sad.

Pretty soon, laughter is erupting all through the front entrance and Zeke and his friend are embracing each other in a man-hug. they slap each other's back and ask each other how they've been.

It takes me a minute to recall who this is, and then I vaguely remember Zeke always hanging out with an Australian guy named Drew - short for Andrew. All they would do throughout high school was play stupid video games and talk about the teachers at school they thought were hot.

As I calm my heart rate down, Zeke and Drew sit in the living room and talk for almost an hour, catching up on what they've lately been up to. Turns out Drew is in town for a job interview downtown at the hospital. 

I finally get fed up with trying to listen to the T.V. over their yapping, and go upstairs.

Texting Aaron about what just happened, I try to put how scared I was into words, but it's near impossible. I was terrified. And I tell him that I can't live like that; the fear needs to stop.

(A/N: FINALLY CHAPTER EIGHTEEN! YAYYYYYYY!!!!) ~writingslayer