The Evil Instrument
The incessant noises of maintenance can really trigger your streak of losing your mind. It commences with your eyes flying open as your ears drum with the shrill noise of the drill shaking the building’s walls. You groan groggily as you slam your head with your pillow to muffle the irritating inconvenience, but it was absolutely useless.
At this point, you were convinced that the drill is the devil’s musical instrument, and he was targeting you to torture. You attempted to pretend the noise simply did not exist, but how could you when it violated your ears the way it did?
Huffing dramatically, you ripped your bedsheets off you, and you placed your bare feet against the cold surface of the tiles in your bedroom, and you padded across the room to get dressed in an angry rush. You were about to interrupt your neighbour’s obnoxious activities, and you’d give them a piece of your mind.
The drill kept ceasing and commencing in 30 second intervals, as if it were tantalisingy taunting you of its presence, and you could practically see your devil neighbour’s twisted, vile smirk, and it infuriated you further. Once you were appropriately dressed, you slammed your apartment door open and marched with purpose to your neighbor’s door, and you punched your fist onto the hardwood repeatedly, until the drill was turned off.
You sighed in an overwhelming sense of ecstasy upon being greeted with this gloriously quiet peacefulness, and within a few seconds, the door was ripped open. A man the size of the door itself was stood on the other side of the doorframe, gazing upon you quizzically with a pair of puzzled, honey coloured eyes and a soft frown denting his face.
“Can I help you?” He finally asked.
You blinked in disbelief. “Can you — yes, you can help me by throwing your stupid drill out the window and letting me and the rest of this building’s residents get some sleep!”
The man startlingly blinked, taken aback as he took an involuntary step backward into his apartment, before his face etched into an amused grin, and he laughed.
You shot him a sour scowl, evidently unamused by his attitude. “I don’t see what’s funny.”
The man shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to drop my drill on a pedestrian’s head, would I? I’m not evil.”
You cross your arms over your chest and raised a brow. “That’s up for debate. Anyone that uses a drill at such an ungodly hour is the devil and the drill is their weapon.”
The man smiled at you. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“I don’t.” You deadpanned.
“Do you want to give it a try?”
Your eyes widened in sheer shock. “Excuse me?”
“Come on. Have a go at the drill and see how fun it actually is.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don’t believe anything that produces such an irritating noise is considered fun.”
The man laughed. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
You stared at him for a short while, before you slumped your shoulders and gave in. “Alright, it won’t hurt to try.”
Stepping into the apartment, your eyes immediately landed on the horrendous tool, and you fought the urge to kick it as an act of vengeance. Your neighbour picked up the drill in his hands, before he positioned it against the wall to instruct you on how to use it.
Tentatively, your fingers curled around the drill, and you surprisingly felt as though you were a powerful creature as you gripped the heavy tool. You smiled, braced yourself, and switched it on.
You gasped as the drill whirred and dug a small hole into the wall, before you quickly turned it off and snapped your gaze at your neighbour, who was already staring at you excitedly.
“Well?” He prompted.
You broke out into a laugh dripping with adrenaline, before gazing back at the drill in your hands in awe.
“It was — it was exhilarating!” You exclaimed, and your neighbour broke out into a grin.
“I had a feeling you’d say that.”
“Can I try it again?” You asked eagerly and your neighbour laughed and nodded.
For a moment, you completely forgot about the irritating noise and being rudely woken up from your peaceful slumber, and you were suddenly the culprit of operating this absurdly loud tool.
