Most of the time, I am ok with being a coward. About physical things, I mean. About bungee jumping, shooting guns, skydiving, bowling with a razor-blade-lined ball, etc. No one's really around me to belittle me if I choose not to raft with piranhas or stick my hand in a bear trap. And the way I see it, being a coward just assures a little extension to your life gauge a little longer. And there's nothing more gratifying when playing a video game than extending your life gauge, so why not apply that to real life by NOT BEING AN IDIOT? It's so easy! But something about this situation bothered me. I was SCARED. That much I knew. But I was ALSO scared of FEELING SCARED, questioning my rationality towards the situation. And, like I said, I'm ok with being a coward when no one is watching. But I knew that whatever was on the other side of that door WAS watching, or at least listening. They know I am in here. And they WOULD know I'm just a coward.
This is as much of my thinking process as I can remember:

"I know that it's the box I know it but how did it get back and how is it knocking without anything to knock with did HE bring it back are those tendons forming fists and hitting the wood it sounds like a regular knock this is all so fucking ridiculous how would that even happen but im scared and its probably all for nothing but the fucking box wanted to kill me or did it? Was it trying to tell me something or just play with me I don't know anything at all fuck I cant see out the hole, something is blocking it, wait, is that smoke!? Why is there smoke where is it I know its there but I cant see down on the ground what the fuck im opening the door…"

And as I pulled back enough tape to open the multiple locks, I heard the thumps again. They were amplified in my head and sent shivers on a roller coaster ride through my ear canals. Part of me wanted to yell at the impatience of the visitor. But most of me would have been happy knowing that I mustered up the courage to open the door, but ended up lagging long enough for them to leave.
I gripped the doorknob tightly with my right hand, pressed my left palm up against the door itself, where there is a slight discoloration in the shape of a palm, as this is the exact position I always seem to fall in whenever there is a knock on my door. And one last time I peered into the eyehole of the door.
I have never been as startled by such a cliché in my life, but my body uncontrollably changed positions the moment I looked though that tiny fish-eye lens and saw an eye looking back at me.
I tilted my head back and took my hand off of the doorknob.
That was much more than I had anticipated.
Shit.
Weird, huh?
That someone with an EYEBALL (maybe even two), and possibly a body, was using their HANDS to knock on my door?! Those previous couple of hours really changed my perception of what to expect I guess. I was prepared for a battle between a 6-sided, mysteriously-able-to-travel-by-itself, tentacle-shooting, cardboard skin box and myself. Not something with actual anatomy!
I stepped a couple of feet away from the door and reverted back to just staring.

Then a gruff female voice waltzed through the wood, tape and deadbolts like a ghost, "CHADAM!" she said "You in there? Wake up. I need your help really quick. C'mon, you don't leave, wake up wake up wake up wake up wake uppppp.."

My eyes changed from on the verge of crying to slightly inquisitive, and very relieved. I leaned back in and pressed my eye against the peephole. It was Sandy Pierce from down the hall, smoking a cigarette and tapping her feet impatiently. I hurriedly opened the door and saw her standing, holding her 6 year old daughter's hand, and looking at me desperately….