Who Wrote The Poem Knock Knock By Daniel Beaty?

On the seventh day after my daughter goes missing, I kidnap an entire kindergarten. I lock away all 27 students and two teachers in a classroom. I tell the police that if they can't find my daughter, I will kill a kid every 30 minutes. The principal falls to her knees, wailing and begging, "It's not my fault that your daughter is missing. Why should other children pay for it?" I glance at my watch. "29 minutes left. Find her." I know she's in this kindergarten.

He knocked once. She opened the door. Nothing has been the same since. Maya has spent the last two years learning how to breathe again. After surviving a violent relationship that shattered her from the inside out, all she wants is silence. Safety. Control. But when a new tenant moves in next door, her carefully rebuilt life begins to unravel. Elias Graves is tall, quiet, and just out of prison. No past. No apologies. No promises. He doesn’t ask for anything. He just watches. And when Maya leaves her door unlocked one night, he walks in. What begins as a collision of need and heat quickly spirals into something darker, something Maya swore she would never want again. He gives her the pain she craves and the pleasure she hates herself for needing. But secrets live between their bodies, and some doors—once opened—won’t ever close again. This is not a love story. It’s a story about addiction. About survival. About surrendering to a man who might just ruin her… or finally teach her how to survive the fire.

Missing the last bus home shouldn’t have mattered. For Daniel Rogers, however, it’s about to matter a lot more. When Daniel is picked up by a stranger, Adrian Williams, while walking home one rainy night, he doesn’t think much of it. Polite, observant, and uncomfortably familiar, Adrian is a man Daniel can’t quite place. It’s supposed to end there, of course. But then Daniel meets Adrian again. And then again. Until Daniel realizes that these meetings aren’t quite so coincidental. Adrian doesn’t just see Daniel, Adrian understands Daniel. Too well, if you ask Daniel. As if Adrian knows Daniel’s deepest, darkest secrets, the ones Daniel keeps locked safely away from prying eyes. Caught up despite himself, Daniel finds himself opening up to Adrian, feeling something he hasn’t felt in years: seen, understood, desired. But Daniel can’t shake off the feeling that something is terribly wrong, that Adrian Williams, while not quite a stranger, is definitely not quite a friend. Is Daniel to walk away from something he doesn’t fully understand, or risk everything for someone who makes him feel like he’s found home? Some people don’t just show up by accident. They show up to stay.

For the fifth time this month, a delivery driver knocked on my door looking for an order that wasn't mine. Fed up, I taped a note outside: "I never order takeout. Whoever keeps using my address for pranks deserves a lifetime of bad luck." A few minutes later, someone knocked again. I yanked open the door and snapped, "I didn't order anything! Can you please check the address before bothering me?" The driver scratched his head, looking confused. "That's strange... I always deliver to this address." Not wanting to argue, I slammed the door shut. Moments later, violent pounding erupted from outside. Furious, I flung the door open, ready to curse out whoever was causing trouble. The words died in my throat the instant I saw who was standing there.

As Christmas drew near, my little sister claimed she’d seen Santa Claus in the house. “He had four legs, real long, like dead branches. He crawled on the floor like a dog. His mouth was full of teeth, and I saw him with my own eyes, climbing out of the chimney. His bones were making this clicking, clacking sound.” The Santa she described was nothing like the legends. My parents and I thought it was just her imagination. Until I posted about it online. A user named “NocturneNotes” insisted my sister wasn’t lying, and that the thing was dangerous. Panicked, I asked him what we should do. He gave me three rules: “On Christmas Eve, from 11:30 PM to 2:00 AM, the entire family must ‘sleep’ by the Christmas tree.” “You can’t actually fall asleep, or you’ll die in your sleep.” “No matter what you hear or feel, you absolutely cannot open your eyes or stop pretending to be asleep. Once it hits 2:00 AM, it will leave on its own.”

The third time I caught my wife in bed with another man, I lost the ability to speak. Out of guilt, Helena spent a month teaching me to communicate with one and two. One meant yes. Two meant no. Whatever Helena said to me, if it had anything to do with Felix Danner, the answer was always one. She said Felix was in poor health and wanted to borrow the protective locket my mother left me. I answered one without hesitating. She wanted to push back our anniversary so Felix could have his birthday first. One. Even when she wanted to move the injured Felix into our house, I still answered one. And I packed my things and gave up the primary bedroom for him. Then I took our wedding portrait down off the wall. Her eyes filled and she caught my hand and wouldn't let go. "Simon, you told me that portrait never comes down unless we're divorced. Are you telling me you want a divorce?" She saw the one already forming on my mouth. Helena came apart and started screaming at me. "Simon, don't you dare say one. There is nothing wrong with your vocal cords. You can talk. So talk to me!" A second later, afraid she'd frightened me, she gentled her voice. "Simon. Say two. Please say two." I pulled my hand free and looked at her, honestly puzzled. Had she forgotten what she signed the year she loved me most? Two chances if she was ever unfaithful. A third time, and the filing instructions and settlement went into effect on their own. They'd gone into effect a month earlier.