"Who the hell are you? And what are you doing?" said a male voice that I don't recognize. Baseball bat. Shirtless. Striated pajama bottoms. About six feet. A body that I would've admired in a different situation. I am confused. I can feel my insides getting ready to be violent.

"Me?! What are you doing in my fiancée's apartment?"

"Fiancée? Is this some sort of joke? Cause it's not funny? You wake me that early to mess with me? I will beat your ass up if you don't explain!"

"I will ask you again. What the hell are you doing in Hazel's apartment?" This time angry. Enraged.

"Man, this is MY apartment! I don't know any Hazel so just get lost," he said, trying to close the door.

I don't know how or when I did that, but I was inside the flat and the man on the floor, looking in disbelief. I recognize my heaving chest and try to mitigate the pace but the rage only escalated.

"Babe?" A woman's voice this time. Startled and warm. My heart missed a beat. Could she be?

"Helen, stay inside! Lock the door and call the cops!" said the baseball bat- jerk before getting on his feet.

She did as told. I couldn't get my eyes off the slammed door. Helen? Is this really her name? And he's her man after all? Was that all a game? God no. Could she be messing with me for fun? All these theories and I am going insane. I knew karma was slick, but could this be...

I heard the thrust. He punched me square in the face. The force of it was too strong that I felt my brain dance like jelly. His punch is as astounding as his body. I am impressed. I am pained as well. I can taste blood. There isn't possibly a way to know, at the moment, whether the blood arose from my lips, tongue, or inner cheeks, but something tells me it's all three. My skull is on fire, and something inside me is too. Anger.

His next punch met my palm, stopping midway. I saw his surprise, and I wanted to assure him that I am truly surprised myself. Where did I learn doing that? I never tell him that, I planted a sharp, wrathful punch at his upper face instead. Blood emerged from a fresh cut above his cheekbone and heavily, crawled down. Now he's lying on the floor. Half-conscious, I guess. His eyes gave me a last side look, before rolling to the inside, indicating that he's unconscious now. I have to admit, he looks tougher than he really is.

Helen.

I walk towards her door. I knock. Over and over again. I knock harder. I am banging at the door now. The door shook, threatening to break. Then I heard a muffled cry. Something in me cringed. Is she scared of me?

"Hazel, baby, I would never hurt you. Please come out," I used the softest voice I could manage.

No reply. I can still hear her crying.

"Hazel? It's me, Richard. Babe, please. Come out I miss you. I won't hurt you."

"Go away! I am not Hazel!" her voice thick with tears I don't recognize it anymore.

"Helen, then? Is that your real name? What is it that he did that I didn't do to deserve knowing it? And he lives with you too?" I am losing my temper, "come out, Hazel and tell me I misunderstood! Come out and tell me you love me! Tell me he forced you. I will believe anything you say but come out. I beg you."

"I am not Hazel, don't you understand?! This is our apartment, and he's my husband. Now please leave!" and she sobbed hard.

Husband? I am beyond mad. I wanted to find the only person I loved. And now I can't even recognize her voice because she's sobbing hysterically. Because of me.

"You're married? You were messing with me? You don't love me?! Hazel, please..." and my voice quaked, announcing the arrival of tears.

"Don't you get it? I am NOT HAZEL! You've got the wrong flat, and attacked the wrong man!" She sounded angrier this time, still sobbing and scared.

"Then come out. I would never hurt you. Hazel or not. Please come out. I just want to talk to you. You don't have to leave me this way," I cried. I know the apartment. It's hazel's I have been here before, and it hadn't changed. Not even a bit. This is Hazel's.

"Why aren't you listening?! I am not that person! Go away!"

"Then come out! Why are you scared? I promised not to hurt you?" I am angry again.

"Yeah, says the man who attacked my husband."

For some reason the word "husband" fueled my fire and I was banging at the door again. Crying out her name and begging her to come out.

I was there physically, but my head was somewhere else, wandering along every memory I had with her. Our early breakfasts and noon coffee. Our long talks and silent walks. The feeling of her fingers between mine. Or the warmth of her head against my chest. The pleasure merged with pain and I no longer know what I am feeling. Is it okay to say that I am high on her? Because I am.

My legs are numb, and it feels like I am standing in outer space. My hands bang repetitively like the rhythm would change her mind. Like if I tried harder, she would choose me. Like If I knocked stronger, I could change the truth. Like I can make everything normal again. My hand slams painfully, sending fire waves through my fingers. And I am dead but alive. I don't want to admit that someone else won. Not now, not ever.

I might have been asleep for a while because I don't remember what happened before I was knocked down by someone, who was cuffing me now. I was dragged out of the apartment, my legs too limb to function.

Is this real life? I don't know. I hope not. I was being pushed into a cop's car, when she emerged out of the building. Long legs and dark hair. A blanket around her shoulders, as she walked towards the ambulance car to join her husband. Except that she wasn't her. Not Hazel. Not my Hazel.

And I am the happiest man alive. And I am confused. And I don't know what I am feeling. I would die at the thought of her being another man's, but I am still dying if I don't find her. And now the apartment shit?! How can this be?! I know it's Hazel's! I do. But nothing makes sense anymore, so why did I expect this to do.

Plus, I must be in so much trouble at the moment.