My heart is racing as my hand touches the doorknob.

My palms are sweaty, and everything inside of me is screaming to stop.

Too curious. I’m too curious to step away from the door.

This door has been haunting me since I moved into this building two weeks ago.

I turn the door knob and hear a squeaking sound as I push slightly foward.

I’m expecting something, anything.

I don’t expect nothing.

I don’t expect an empty room with nothing but a stack of cardboard boxes piled up in the corner.