I’ve always pictured myself moving out of my parents house early in my life. From a young age, I’ve fantasized my life on my own being freeing, liberating if you will. The good parts and the bad parts, everything seemed appealing about growing up. I started looking for apartments after me and my boyfriend, M, had graduated high school. We had both agreed we never needed something huge or fancy. A small one bed, one bath would accommodate both of us, considering our close relationships, the lack of space never really bothered us.
The move in date came quick and before we knew it, we had a place to call home. I was greeted by the neighbor who lived in the unit next to ours while moving the first few boxes. She was a old, tall woman who wore a shaggy purple dress and some of the brightest red lipstick I’ve ever seen on another person. Her face looked tired, she had definitely seen some things. She held the tube of lipstick in her firm, slender hands, reapplying the runny red liquid as she watched the both of us.
We got settled in that night and decided to immediately try and get some sleep after we built the bed we bought together prior. The apartment has a smell that was familiar but i couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. It was 1:28 in the morning when I heard it for the first time.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
I expected noise from the people around us so it didn’t phase me at first. The noise continued again. And again. I thought nothing of it. But that same smell grew stronger is when I started to pay attention. Change? Maybe Pennies? I worked in a bank handling alot of change specifically so I knew the smell like any other. I figured the smell was cemented into some of my belongings so I payed it no mind and went to sleep.
The next few nights were the same but nothing seemed to bother me. About a week and a half of settling in had passed before the same slender woman had invited me in her place for some coffee while my boyfriend worked that day. The carpet was wine colored throughout the entire apartment. The wallpaper was white and pasty, like being at a grandparents house but less comforting.
“So how are you liking it in these apartments? It’s nice that someone moved into that place, it’s been vacant for some time now” the woman said from behind the counter as the coffee brewed in the small pot. “It’s nice, I’ve loved our time here so far.” I said. “What do you do for a living?” I continued. “I hand make the very lipstick I wear on a day to day basis from this apartment, the locals have loved my product for years.” The woman said. “Really?” I exclaimed, “That’s quite the job you’ve got.” I noticed the smell of change had grown a bit stronger since going into her unit. “Yeah, that’s gotta be pennies, and alot of them.” I thought. The woman brought out the coffee in bright red mugs and I disregarded the smell almost instantly.
“I don’t like that woman next door.” M said. “She seems a little off.” From the time we’d moved in, the woman had been nothing but sweet to me. Oddly, she had greeted M not as warmly and has never offered him in for coffee. “I can see why but I’m sure she has no bad intentions, besides, all old people give off either a kind or creepy vibe.” I said. M sighed and looked down at his hands. “I don’t know, I don’t think she seems like a good neighbor.” I pulled my glasses off my face and rubbed my exhausted face. “Well we haven’t been here for that long so I wouldn’t make your judgement too soon.” I sighed. “Okay, I trust you if you think she has good intentions.” He said reassuringly.
A few days has passed, I was getting home from work in the late afternoon. I walked into the cold apartment and turned on the Iights. A small folded note lay on the kitchen counter. “My dearest, I’ve been called to the next town over for a couple days for important business opportunities and a possible ceo position in the company. Please forgive my sudden absence, I will be back in a few days. Love, M.” This isn’t the first time my boyfriend has suddenly left for a work trip, as he works in the family company with a lot of opportunity to move up. I set my stuff down and began looking through the kitchen on starting dinner and forgot about the note.
I went to bed that night. Same banging noise like every night from the woman’s apartment occurring at the same time as every night. Something was wrong with tonight. It was a different kind of noise. A noise that felt familiar. This night is wasn’t banging. It was knocking. It was face paced and seemed panicky. I was frozen. Silence struck. I held my breath so I could be absolutely sure this was knocking. But it didn’t continue. The knocking had been replaced by the quietest breathing any person has produced. It was shallow, and shakey. Seconds felt like an eternity waiting to hear anything else.
“Hey!”
I heard the woman’s voice from the other side of the wall. Then silence again.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Just like normal. The noise almost seemed to ease my nerves. Nothing else out of the ordinary happened that night and eventually I was able to fall back asleep.
The next morning, I was woken up with a knock. But not against the wall this time, but at the front door. I threw on my glasses and dragged my drowsy body to the door. Behind it was the woman, holding a small wrapped box. No bigger than a plastic water bottle.
“Good morning miss!” She said. “I’m terribly sorry if I woke you up but I brought you something special! I would’ve given this to you as a welcome gift but I wanted these to be as fresh as possible.” She finished, handing the cold box to me. “That’s awfully kind of you, I appriciate it.” I said. The woman nodded and smiled widely, her lipstick in her teeth. She returned to her apartment as I shut the door.
I placed the box on the counter and carefully opened the box, being sure to handle with care. Inside the box were 3 tubes of the same bright red lipstick she has worn and mentioned previously. A small note lay on the bottom underneath.
“It’s my best batch yet. I named it Matte Merry Love. Especially for you.”
I opened one of the tube of the runny red lipstick. That smell is still the same. Change. Something doesn’t feel right. In the corner of the note was my boyfriends family’s company logo. How did she know? I’ve never mentioned the company to her in the few times we’ve had coffee.
I felt I needed to dig deeper into this. I need to figure out how she knows so much when I’ve given very little detail. This situation is strange, and I’m gonna get behind it.
To be continued