Novel & Cerita Knock Knock By Daniel Beaty

Knock knock Bianca just wore her clothes and was staring at her figure in the mirror when she suddenly heard a knock on her door. She looked at the door and looked back at the mirror to admire herself again " Auch! It must be him knocking. But if he is actually the one? He won't be able to resist this flawless beauty here and he will just become cheaper than he is. Argh! Should I just put this off? But what will i wear? " she held her head and sat down on the bed. " What am I even doing? Why do I care if he fall or not? There is one certain thing and that is the fact that i can never love someone like him. Someone who fabricate people. Someone who tell lies and won't blink once before destro

“Knock” “Knock” “Knock” I hear someone knocking on the door and rush to answer it, because I have been waiting for Jordan for the last two days. He went with Jon on a fishing trip, just the two of them and I have been stuck home, moping around the house. Bored out of my mind, I called someone I knew from way back when.

“Knock” “Knock” I hear a pounding sound from the door and realize that it is the owner and this time he means business because when I look out the window before opening the door, I notice that he looks pissed. Murmuring softly before opening it, “I bet he heard the commotion and is here to get rid of me, if not worse.”

4 days later Knock, knock, knock, knock Marigold was awakened by the sounds of knocking at her door. She pulled her purple covers off of her head revealing her messy bed hair covering her face. She pushed her hair out of her face and mumbled, "Come in." ERRRRRRR EEEEEEEK

*Knock Knock* My knuckles hit the large white door again, and again, I was met with no reply. The silence was looking like a sign for me to wait until tomorrow morning when I was more mentally prepared. *Knock Knock* Silence. Pure, deadly, torturous silence. ‘Maybe I should just go to bed and try tomor– no, Olly,’ I shook my head, erasing the silly thoughts. ‘You’re doing this tonight, and you’re doing it now. The only thing that is going to stop you is if Dante is asleep or he doesn’t want to see you.’

Maybe group therapy is needed to try to overcome the crap we've been through. Knock, Knock, Knock

----------Knock knock--------- Sh*t, I must have dozed off. I look at my watch and it's almost 11. I look at the bottle of wine on the table, it's almost empty. I am a mess, no doubt about that. I gather all the drunken strength in me and walk over to the door. As soon as I grab the handle, I stop. It's not Natalia. She won't ever knock, She's got the keys.

Stood close enough that their shoulders touched. They drank in silence. The house listened. Midmorning brought the first sound. A single knock. Not on the front door. Not on the terrace doors. Inside. From the wall beside the fireplace. Three raps. Slow. Measured. Exactly the rhythm Daniel once used. They both froze. Ethan set his mug down. Veronica set hers down a second later. They waited. No second knock. Only the fire crackling. The wind outside testing the shutters. Ethan spoke quietly.

Knock knock I knocked on Kane's door slowly. While waiting for the man to open the door, I began to look myself up and down. Hopefully he doesn't feel allergic if he sees me wearing tacky clothes like this. An ankle-length skirt, an oversized and tacky pink shirt, thick glasses, fake moles, and hair tied in two. Great! My appearance is absolutely disgusting. I really wonder to myself why I prepared this outfit before flying to Switzerland. But all because of Kane. The man repeatedly told me to look tacky in front of him. So I suddenly had this outfit ready in my suitcase, even though when I put all this outfit in my suitcase, I was determined not to wear it. But it's become somewhat useful n

A knock, unexpected and jarring, pulled me out of the spiral. I almost missed the first knock. It sounded distant, like something from another life. The second came firmer, enough to pull me from the fog. The knock came steady, unhurried, not the frantic pounding of guilt or desperation, but something measured. For one terrible moment, I thought it might be Dan.