So this one time, I had leaks coming into my apartment. And there was that amount of rain that hit over a weekend. And it fucked me up cause, it woke me up from the fire alarms going off. The water damaged the wiring and the roof, and it all went to hell. I had to get a hotel, it was so damn bad.
And this apartment was a steal. I moved in during COVID, and so I got a deal because through it. But it was a bit of a labor of love between me and the owner. The landlord’s brother and sister lived on the lower levels, too. So I’d rely on him, and all them, for help with any basic maintenance.
So once the rain dried out, our repairs and maintenance would need to start. Especially on the roof.
But what was odd and freaked me out is that he knocked on the fire escape on that next Sunday. And asked step through it. And into my place. Which made sense, because he was on his way half way onto the roof to begin with, but this bit left me unnerved.
So, I brought this up with him. And I kinda joked that stepping into the apartment that way was a little weird. Downplaying it and all.
So, he asks me, “What do you mean by that?”
And I say, “No — Well, I mean that it surprised me kinda when you knocked on the window like that. Like, I haven’t had people climb on that fire escape before.”
And he says, “Yeah, but the fire escape is safe. But what do you mean you were surprised? You knew I was going on the roof.”
And I said, “Yeah, but I didn’t know when. It just surprised me, seeing you out there.”
And he says, “Why? What did you think what’d happen?”
And I said, “What do you mean? It just surprised me.”
And he stepped forward and replied, “Did you think I was gonna hurt you?”
And I had to pause for a second. Now, I didn’t feel that way before, but once he said that, I noticed his pause transformed into a grin.
And he stayed put.
The fire escape stayed in my view. And with him looming over the doorframe. While grinning, he began questioning me.
And I now felt a coldness in the room. And I knew that fire escape was my life raft.
And of course I can’t answer his questions, so now he’s in my face. And he says, “Well, I’m here now. And there’s still work that needs to be done. So what do you wanna do about it?”
And I can’t respond. I’m despondent. And I cower.
“No, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just wanted to see how it was getting along.”
I felt ashamed and embarrassed. Who was I to misinterpret the situation? However, little did I know that everything I had thus far had an impact.
Each little facet of that apartment and interaction would become a box that I’d be trapped in. Each window, each door, and my skylight.