Crying

It's dark. The clock reads 3:20 AM. The sounds of stifled sobbing are coming from the apartment above mine. You don't wake up at this time of night and just start crying – something happens, something that took time to build up; somehow a monster was created in advance and finally, somehow managed to rear its head at this frightful hour. Why? How? These are the questions that tear through my mind as I lie in my bed watching the hands on the clock tick. Maybe tomorrow I should stop by – just to make sure that she is alright, but damn; I don't even know who she is. I guess I could pretend to be slightly annoyed about the noise, or I could say that I was awakened by her crying and just wanted to make sure everything is alright... Finally a realization strikes me; I am caught up in a series of events that I'm not even a part of. How is it that I find myself so attached to this mystery person? Why am I willing to go so far out of my way just to see that she's okay? Maybe it was her fault, maybe it was just a huge mix up – a mistake; only one way to find out, though. It isn't really that far out of the way.