One Monday Morning

I woke up one Monday at around 5:00 am hearing things falling, I lived in an apartment building in the second floor and I thought that someone had fallen down the stairs. I heard "help please" and I reluctantly stood up to see what was up.

There was no one in the stairs, but in one apartment the lights were on and the door was open, I went inside and I saw my neighbour on the floor, and a guy on top of him, with a knife, trying to stab him, and my neighbour holding this guy's wrist to stop him.

Help me!, he came through the window!

I just stood there, waiting to see what was really happening, because I literally couldn't believe my eyes, until it hit me that this was real, this was happening.

My first thought was to call the police, but then I realized they would never get here on time, I had to take the knife, so I went there and I reached down to the floor, like one does to pick up a coin, trying to grab the knife, and then he hit me, I fell to the floor, and we continued to struggle there.

I have no idea how long that lasted. Could've been 10 seconds, or 10 hours. I felt that all my life I had been trying to get that knife, that I had spent years doing that, and nothing else remotely mattered.

I don't remember much of the fight. I remember having his shoes on my face, I remember seeing his shoulder, I remember seeing his face, I remember him trying to stab us, but I have no idea in what order anything happened.

I just know that at some point, somehow, I did get the knife. I stood up, and the guy turned towards me to take the knife again, but he had his back to my neighbour, and my neighbour was able to knock him down and pin in him on the floor.

Then I called the police, and the rest is bureaucracy.