Tomato-sauce spaghetti and the intruder

i was waiting for my dinner to cook while listening to some enjoyable music. seated at the couch, watching the clouds drifting by. I soon spotted the first star of the newly born night. The crisp air coming from the wide-open window had enveloped me in a state of tranquility.
The tomato sauce finished cooking. I half-mindlessly added it to the spaghetti and drizzled some olive oil on top. I brought it to a final boil and I was all set.
Utensils in hand, I proceeded to finish my plate. Not too long afterwards, the doorbell rang. I couldn't be bothered to get up, let alone open the door and socialize, so I let it ring. After the fifth buzz, it stopped. A relief.

As usual after eating, I do the dishes and plunk down on the armchair with a cup of tea and a paperback. I read until I start to feel sleepy, then I get up, wash myself and get into my sleeping clothes. But this time, things went slightly different. Just like that, even the slightest deviation of the flow on a river results in a flood elsewhere.

This was the case with the unwanted buzz of the door. After getting into my cotton T-shirt and shorts, I couldn't shake off a kind of stiffness all over my body. And that seemed to derive from a man hitting a needle with a hammer somewhere in my mind. What was the man doing there, I couldn't figure out.
Before hopping into bed, I had to do something about that, or else I'd end up with a hole in the morning.

I almost instinctively knew that it had to do with the intruder. That loud repeated electric noise had unwound something vital inside. I went close to the peephole and, fixing my breathing, leaned over to see. A man was staring right back.

I immediately averted my gaze and hit the wall with my back. I was petrified. The man was bald, and had an uncanny stare. I lived alone, and didn't feel strong enough to combat him. I looked back. He was still there. Not a flinch. This time, I tried to look closer. I heard someone going up the stairs. It was my neighbor. Maybe if he saw her coming this way, he would leave, I figured. He wouldn't want to give people suspicious thoughts, standing there like a creep, right? Yet, my neighbor passed him right by. She undisturbed, him unaffected.
The man in my head kept hitting the needle, and I was feeling it piercing through something. I started feeling sick, nauseous, like I was going to pass out. I sat on my armchair and closed my eyes. Hey man, hey, would you stop hitting so hard at that needle, it's really bothering me. But the man seemed to be really convinced about his actions. I could only wait for him to tire and stop, or at least finish for the day. I have a very important task here, young miss, I must apologize. I cannot stop as you wish. So in the mean time, try to get some eye-shut and it will all be alright by tomorrow.
And i did. But the man behind my peephole didn't look away the entire night.