text: A loud knock on the door woke me up. "The rent!" said a voice sharply from the corridor. I pull myself up from the couch slowly, shaking off the confusion, before darting towards a pre-prepared envelope I left on my desk. I must have fallen asleep while watching the news about the pandemic again. I make my way towards the entrance while still struggling with the disorientation before carefully slipping the envelope under the door. I feel it snatched from my fingers halfway through, followed by the sounds of impatient footsteps echoing away from me. I don't know how long he was waiting, but he probably came back to my door as his last stop at this complex. I straightened myself up while staring blankly at the door - or rather, at the only semblance of human interaction I've had in a while - pondering the time when I will have to make a choice between rent and food. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I noticed a post-it on the door. "Don't go out", it said in no uncertain terms. When did I leave it there? I make my way to the refrigerator to pour myself a glass of water, stopping to take a mental inventory of how much food I have left, my hand firmly grasping the door handle while my eyes gaze at the emptiness inside. My trancelike state was interrupted when out of the corner of my eye, a view from my kitchen window grabbed my attention. My neighbour from the adjacent complex, with whom I exchange an insincere half smile whenever we cross each other's view, was being dragged out of her apartment by two men in suits. Was she being evicted? Her struggling and face contorted by pain and hopelessness rendered the scene all the more eerie due to the silence of it - broken only by the sound of my refrigerator's motor, slightly straining from the door I left open. I knew I should be sad in that moment, but the guilt of my indifference at her distress was washed away by my own weariness and powerlessness to help. I tried to muster a tear, but nothing came as I stood there observing a now empty dwelling, a stark reminder of my loneliness. I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, dimly lit by my nightstand lamp. I always found its warm luminescence comforting during lonely nights. I used to hear the arguments of the couple with whom I share a poorly insulated bedroom wall - from the tidbits of information I could gather, their quarreling had to do with his insistence on scrounging up food from nocturnal expeditions while she implored him to wait for government help. Now all I could hear every night was the sound of her lone crying. The thought of reaching out to her dissipated as I turned to the side and stretched my arm out to turn off the lamp, closing my eyes and shutting myself out from the world. I was washing myself up with soapy water after my morning task - toilet paper having become a luxury at this point - when the sound a box being dropped at my doorstep and a businesslike knock had me sprinting towards the door. "Wait!" I shouted, positioning myself at the peephole like a child anticipating the return of his parents. The soldier in full hazmat suit stopped mid-step and turned his head towards the door, his face hidden by his hood's reflective visor, his shape distorted by the lens. "Last month's delivery only had about 2 weeks' worth of supplies!" I protested. "That's all we have to give, if you're not happy, I can take it somewhere else!" his cold muffled voice replied, as he crouched to pick the box back up. "No, please! Stay - I mean, leave it there!" He froze for a second before getting back up. "Don't come out until I'm gone!" said he with an authoritative finger pointed at my judas, before anxiously getting back to his deliveries. I sat down Indian style, listening to him complete his task, before his footsteps receded out the building. I waited a while longer, for the sounds of neighbouring doors opening and closing to stop, carefully paying attention that nobody was approaching my own supplies. I did notice the sound of my neighbour with whom I share a bedroom wall grabbing her box in a hurry, with the absence of meowing from her usually very vocal cat worrisome. I struggled to pull myself up, partly because of the numbness in my legs, partly because of the hunger. A quick inspection through the aperture showed a now quiet hallway with the sight of my goods still there providing a sigh of relief. I grabbed the box expediently before slamming the door shut, its weight much lighter than the previous shipments. In my hurry to open it, I omitted wiping it down first; my stash of disinfectant wipes was dwindling anyway. My excitement was stifled when I took a look at its contents. I only had about a week's worth of rations and a single soap bar. "The rent!" said an impatient voice from the hallway. I picked myself up from the floor, observing my surroundings while I regained consciousness. In my haste, I had already eaten through a day's worth of food already; the sour stench of bile filled my lungs as it didn't agree with my weakened digestive tract. What a waste, I thought. "One second!" I made my way to the living room before rushing back with an envelope in hand. Kicking the box of supplies out of the way, I paused before slipping it through the crack; this was going to be last payment I could afford. I pondered telling him about my situation when the envelope was suddenly snatched from my fingers once more, leaving me with the scuttling of departing footsteps. I made my way to the kitchen to grab a mop to clean up my vomit, when I noticed that the vacant apartment facing it was once more occupied. The curtains that were usually always open were now drawn. All I could see were two silhouettes dancing - no, not dancing... slithering. I stood there mesmerized by their movements, until they abruptly stopped. One of the silhouettes outstretched an arm to turn off the lights, the apartment once more drowning in shadows. The landlords never bothered to replace the burnt-out lights that illuminated the narrow alley between our buildings. All I could see now from my first-floor window was a chasm of endless darkness, a reflection of my own state of mind. The hunger must be getting to me, I'm starting to see things. It has been weeks since my TV antenna stopped receiving, but that hasn't deterred my nightly attempts at getting a signal so that I could get an update on the progression of the virus. I would've gotten my information online, were it not for my Internet connection being one of the first casualties of my current financial situation. My attempts of communicating with the outside world were also fruitless prior to having my phone line cut. Who could I call for help when nobody answers? No signal seemed to be going out. Or coming in. The last time I had an update on the virus, it had crystallized into a pollenlike substance. We were told to keep our windows and outside doors shut and taped up to avoid any infiltration, which I did diligently. Perhaps too diligently, as the stale air irritated my throat and caused me to occasionally cough. I peeked through my curtains and waited a while. The pollen that had fallen days ago had all dissipated and the air was still. I decided to take a chance and unpeeled the tape around one of the windows before cracking it open an inch. I bent down and closed my eyes as I took in a lung full of fresh air. The slight breeze on my face reminded me of the pre-pandemic days: the feelings of freedom and being carefree. I started to crack a smile when a gust of wind abruptly snapped me out of my daydreaming. I hurriedly closed the window and resealed it again as a cloud of pollen was making its rounds between buildings. I sat down on my couch, defeated, on the verge of tears. I had no desire to die, yet no will to live either. I feared death and hated living; I was stuck in limbo. A month had passed, the rent was now due. A payment that I knew I couldn't make. "The rent!", said the landlord, in a voice that was different from usual. "Uh...", I replied through the door, trying to come up with something to say. "THE RENT!", he sharply cut me with. I was taken aback by his lack of empathy; surely I wasn't the only tenant that was struggling during these times? Noticeably frozen by him, he corrected his demeanour: "Your rrent iss due..." he reiterated calmly in oddly stretched syllables. I slowly approached the peephole to take a look, my vision greeted by a featureless hooded cloaked figure. Sensing my attempt to take a glance at him, he bluntly attempted to peer back through the judas. I jumped up in shock at the sight of a serpentine eye staring back at me. "Yourr rrent iss duue..." he repeated while raking long fingernails across my door, scratching away the paint. "I'll have it tomorrow!" I blurted out in panic. The strange figure was now hunched over, a mouthful of sharp teeth scraping at my doorknob, while a thin tongue extended itself and wrapped around it, trying to jiggle it open. I backed away from the door while holding it closed with my hands, putting my full weight behind them, which was almost nothing at this point. "I'll have it tomorrow, I swear!" I shouted, drowning out what little logical sense I had left. I heard him withdraw from the handle while I waited for a reply - nothing but silence. I turned my ear to the door and listened carefully - nothing still. I worked up the courage to take a peek again; he was already gone. No footsteps. I was about to back away, when I noticed scratch marks on the floor near my neighbour's door, the signs of a possible scuffle. It must have happened during one of my blackouts from starvation. I'm going crazy. I know that now. I had learned how to tune out my neighbour's nightly wailing and fall asleep regardless, but tonight was different. I was kept awake not only by the stress of trying to come up with a solution for tomorrow, but my neighbour's sudden silence was also deafening to me now. I picked up my phone, which was now a glorified boombox that only played whatever music I already had on it, and headed to the living room. I set myself in a fetal position on the couch while scrolling through my library of songs, scrambling to find one to break up the quietness. I closed my eyes and hit play. ♫ A candy-colored clown they call the sandman Tiptoes to my room every night Just to sprinkle stardust and to whisper "Go to sleep. Everything is all right." I close my eyes, then I drift away Into the magic night, I softly say A silent prayer like dreamers do Then I fall asleep to dreams, my dreams of you ♫ A ringtone woke me up from the couch. I grabbed my phone and looked at it in puzzlement: "One Missed Call". When did my service come back? My train of thoughts was interrupted by a draft on my skin. The front door! I rushed to it, paralyzed in horror at the sight of my door wide open. No signs of forced entry, it must be the landlord with his set of keys. Not daring to peek outside, I slammed the door shut and locked it up again. I backed away from the door slowly, thinking about my next move. A wisp of air and sharp punctures on my neck are the last things I feel before collapsing on the ground.