As it’s been a while since our last free-write… set a timer for ten minutes. Write without pause (and no edits!) until you’re out of time. Then, publish what you have (it’s your call whether or not to give the post a once-over).
It was around 3:30am, and Oliver awoke to the sounds of yelling on the balcony next door. Laying there in the darkness with his eyes open, he listened intently as the accents of the neighbours got louder and louder. He heard the music start thumping and after what seemed like a half hour or so, he heard some glass break on the balcony outside.
For a moment Oliver contemplated getting dressed and knocking on their door, requesting they turn the music down, but just as quickly decided not to.
He rolled over to his side, staring at Thomas’ back, who was too in deep a sleep to hear what was going on, and soon enough, Oliver closed his eyes and fell back asleep.
Oliver glanced over at his phone, the display read 4:53am. He had woken to a pound bang on their front door. He thought that perhaps it was just the drunk neighbours again, accidentally knocking on his door, mistaking it for the wrong apartment. Usually it only happened once before somebody called out to them in the hallway, but this time, there were multiple voices, getting louder and louder.
Oliver sat up in the darkness of the room, and heard more thumps against the walls of the corridor outside. Soon, the thumps were associated with yelling. It sounded as though there were about ten people in the narrow hallway, and they were all yelling. Oliver leant over and nudged Thomas. He murmured briefly and soon again began snoring.
‘THOMAS! Something is going on outside! GET UP!’
Thomas rolled over to look at Oliver who was already out of bed and pulling on his shorts in the darkness, and moving towards the front door, putting on his t-shirt, turning on the entrance light. Thomas followed close behind, pulling a hoodie over his head, and they both stood there behind the door, listening to the commotion on the other side.
More loud bangs against the walls, and more yelling, and Oliver swung the door open. Standing before them were a group of youths. The smell of alcohol on them was offensive, and one of them quickly came up to the doorway, apologising profusely to Oliver, saying that the guys fighting were just drunk and being silly, but whilst he was apologising to Oliver, Thomas was busy looking over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the sight of the blood smeared and splattered across the walls and up and down the corridor. The youth noticed this, and fell silent, staring at the terror in Thomas’ eyes, and quickly began to apologise again, before saying good night and rushing down the corridor.