Now calmer, I remembered that, because I've been playing all this time, I didn't go to the toilet for a while.

More specifically, my bladder reminder me.

I picked up my phone and sat on the toiler.

When I opened my phone (yes, open it) I found out, that I had nothing to do on it. Of course I hadn't.

But, I couldn't let my brain rest. At that age, I still didn't know that constantly stimulating my gray matter with screens and apps was unhealthy, ruined the ability to concentrate and just didn't do any good at all.

So, I just slid through the home screen, looked at the apps I had, and the ones I didn't know I had, accidentally activated my voice assistant, almost dropped my phone, and when my brain shut off the autopilot, I realized I was browsing Instagram. Of course I was.

A guy from my class recently bought a motorcycle, and was always posting videos of him riding it around. As if anyone cared. I checked the comments, and of course, everyone cared.

Even though those videos were more boring than a phone with a dead battery, everyone was saying how cool he is and how they want to ride on the bike with him one day. I guess I was right after all. No one cares about him, only about his money. Or should I say, his parents' money?

How sad.

That's why I don't post videos of my motorcycle on Instagram.

Anyway... The girls from my class were the same thing. They only share photos at the best angles, and in their best clothes. Reading the comments just makes me want to vomit:. Look at this: "Hey friend, you look so beautiful", "Damn, you're so gorgeous today", "You should have never been born, you slut", You shine brighter than the sun on a rainy day", "You'd look even prettier in my arms", etc...

Well, this last one is actually mine. I must admit that it also makes me sick, but sometimes you gotta do things like that, you know?

Now, let's forget that, because it's been like 45 minutes since I've been in the bathroom, and I don't even know what I'm doing here anymore.

A bit confused, I washed my face and stepped into the hall.

There, I looked at the front door

Oh, right - I suddenly woke up from my amnesia - someone had rang the doorbell, I didn't answer and went to the bathroom. And that was almost an hour ago!

After realizing this - that I spent one hour looking at memes and wandering through social media, I decided it was time to use my time productively, which means, playing console.

I had taken two steps towards my bedroom, when suddenly, I remembered her. Yes, the girl who rang the doorbell. For some reason, a feeling of mercy filled my heart. You could even say that I felt sorry for that woman.

I began imagining her work day, knocking and ringing every door in this building, while being ruthlessly ignored by some, and voraciously insulted by others.

While her spirit was being crushed by each person she met, and by each person she didn't find home, her determination remained firm.

When someone finally wanted to hear her, she no longer knew what to say next. She would loose her posture, and end up being too excited, or showing that she was a little desperate, which would drive away that person who was previously interested.

At the end of the day, she should report her results, or the lack of them, to her supervisor. He'd yell at her, and compare her to another emplyee who was extremely productive, at some point during the company's existence. He would expose all of her faults and, without any remorse, step on all her wonderful qualities.

Her colleagues simply look at her and think: "I'm glad it's not me listening to that". Nobody steps forward to help her out. She herself says nothing, and lets her boss's harsh words mercilessly pierce her already weakened spirit.

During all this time, her smile wouldn't fade.

To this day, I have no idea how these thoughts arrived in my mind. But I remember that from there on, I started to put myself in other people's shoes. Who knew that a single ringing of the bell would be enough to start the development of my personality?

I started to feel a bit guilty about ignoring that girl. Maybe I should've opened the door and, even without buying anything, just be nice to her. Ask how she's doing. Offer her a coffee or a tea. Recharge her smile, that she has to keep until she gets home. But now… Now it's a little late.

I was still in the hall, thinking about all of this.

I knew that she must be far away from here by now, but I still walked to the door, and peeked through the peephole.

Of course there is no one there now - I thought - while removing the cap that covered the small opening.

But, to my astonishment, the lights in the hall were not turned off.

On the other side of the door, there was someone ... The girl who had rung the bell!

As soon as I saw her, I felt a chill down my spine. Her facial expression and posture were exactly the same as before.

Why was she still there?

Something was not right!