I’m already drifting through my 4^th dream. I have no idea what I was dreaming about, it could’ve been anything, a nightmare possibly since my night hadn’t gone so swiftly. After a drink, a smoke and an inevitable argument I was drained, my bones ached for the comfort of another human being, my night had been lonely. I entered the 5^th dream, which didn’t really last long, if it had ever started. I woke to the vibrant sounds of a rough object against my entry door. “Go back to sleep, it’s not this one.” I thought. I tried to close my eyes but the sound was now alarming. It was 6:00 a.m. The living room was under my bedroom floor, I tried looking out the window but saw nothing, no unusual cars or gangsters to be afraid of, this was not that kind of neighborhood, yet the noise kept on rushing through the house. Mauricio ran down the stairs to the patio where he took a gravel bunk and our BB gun to insult the drunken bastard at our door. Yes, he opened the door abruptly hitting him with it, the man stepped a few feet away, shoulder hurt. He made questioning signs with his hands towards the gravel bunk, as if to say “what’s that man, what’s going through your head?” I would’ve come outside to give him a piece of my mind, but instead I stayed in my room thinking of the million scenarios that could play off. I saw us shot and raped, or in the news the morning after. I took a breath. Instead I thought of ways to keep Eric safe, tracing in my head the blue prints of the house, trying to find a place where I could keep him hidden and protected. Fortunately, Mauricio came back inside, the drunk outside still mingling by our cars, vomiting, talking to himself, then he started hitting the door once again, trying to knock it down, then trying to open it with his keys. I had no choice but to call the police.