The Woman in the Window

           One night I was laying in bed, awake as always, waiting for something to happen. In my countless hours of insomnia, I used to spend my wasteful time trying to do something useful, as an independent worker it’s clear to say that work always used to get in the way of life, so I’d usually spend my nights up whenever I had some free time from work. Fridays were the best days because I stopped working at 7 p.m. and would only go back to work at 4 p.m. on the next day, leaving me with a huge window.

           During the Friday window, I’d usually sit in front of my laptop and try to prepared things for the next week of work, but lately, I haven’t been able to do much, if anything at all. I kept playing with my hair, scrolling through social media, watching videos online, always thinking that I should’ve been working, but procrastination got the best out of me.

           I live in a small apartment with my Siamese cat Luck, whose name was given since I found him freezing during a snowstorm in my city. I took her to the vet and they said that his chance of survival was very low, but somehow, he pulled through, almost as if a miracle had just happened.

           And I usually spend most of my nights awake in my bedroom with Luck, who simply can’t keep up with my pace and ends up sleeping halfway through the night. And tonight, I’m watching a romance on my laptop.

           Ever since I came out as bi, I haven’t been in a relationship ever since. My last one was with a guy I met at university, Mark. He was very sweet and caring, that is, until the day I found out he was cheating with my older cousin, Helena. That sure made me rethink what love was all about, I became distant and started avoiding social interaction. Guys still come up to me and say that a pretty girl like me shouldn’t be so anti-social like this, but I just shrug it off, after all, I know what’s best for me.

           So far, the only people I’ve been keeping in touch with are my mother and my best friend, Carlos, whom I met in high school. Carlos is a very nice person, always trying to come up as the funny guy during any sort of situation, which makes us polar opposites. I’m very shy and quiet, while Carlos is very talkative and funny. And even though we’ve been friends ever since high school the thought of a relationship together never crossed our minds, or at least, that’s what I know from my point of view.

           - What a pathetic portrait of love. – I thought.

           Watching that series made me grow bored of it, so I turned it off and decided to grab my tablet and try and work on a new art piece I’ve been working on.

           People sincerely can’t believe when the 5’2, blonde, innocent-looking girl ends up drawing horror art on the internet, especially my students. I’ve been working as a teacher before the pandemic hit, and with the social distancing and home office, it made my nights longer and my insomnia greater than ever.

           The few people who know about my art are a couple of close friends and Carlos, not even my family knows about it. On my pieces, I tend to simply sign it as C.W. to avoid people recognizing me. What started as a dumb idea as a teenager to stop people from asking me about my art has now become a must in this day and age, since I have thousands of people checking in my art daily on the internet.

           I tend to lean towards themes of life and death and random, almost haunted-like, encounters in the city. But as I grabbed the tablet, I couldn’t feel the inspiration come, so I stood there, looking at the screen, pen in my hand and head in the clouds. This piece was about something I’ve seen about two weeks ago in this very own apartment building.

           It was a rainy night and I was working on a Friday, as usual, preparing some exercises for the students when suddenly Luck got very scared and ran away from the bedroom, I chased him under the couch in the living room, and no matter what I did I couldn’t negotiate with him to come out of hiding. Tired of it, I got up and went back to my room, that’s when it happened.

           From a distance I heard a noise, this noise was followed by the sound of a shower being turned on. Then, a velvety voice started to sing, it was definitely that of a woman. At first, I was unfazed by it, but then it hit me. It was four in the morning.

           - Who the hell takes showers at four in the morning? – I thought.

           But I shrugged it off, as I needed to get everything ready that night because Carlos had called me to go out and grab some coffee in the morning.

           The voice kept singing for about an hour, turned off the shower and from my window I saw the light being turned off. That’s when I had finished my work and had figured out it was time to go to have some sleep before Carlos started calling.

           During our breakfast, I told Carlos about the woman showering at four in the morning, to which he laughed.

           - People seemed to be busy late at night. – He said, jokingly.

           - But I didn’t hear anyone else sing beside her. – I replied.

           - So, we have a lonely singer here, huh? – He said. – Was she at least in tune?

           - Well, I would be lying if I told you she wasn’t a good singer at all. She sounded very much in tune, she had a very pretty voice and that kept me going through the night.

           - Kinda like a Sirena, am I right? – He laughed as he took a sip of coffee.

           - Yeah, apparently mermaids in the twenty-first century decided to come to land to lure people. – I said as I couldn’t help but laugh together with Carlos and his contagious laughter.

           The rest of the day went by, I said goodbye to Carlos, who was going on a week-long trip to Mexico to visit his relatives, and went back to my apartment.

           And as the night came in that Friday night, I was very tired, so I decided to give myself a break and sleep. But on that same night, I woke up, startled by Luck scratching the door to get out of the bedroom.

           - What’s wrong with you, cat? – I said to him.

           I opened the door and he quickly vanished under the couch. I didn’t think much of it, but that’s when I heard a shower being turned on. Right after it, I heard the sound of a woman singing, it was her. Exactly at four in the morning, again.

           This time, curiosity got the best out of me as I went to my window and started looking for the source of that heavenly voice. To my surprise, it was coming from a narrow window, one store above mine, on the left side of my window. I could see some vapor coming out of her window.

           - At least she’s not one of those crazy people who take cold showers. – I thought.

           I didn’t give much attention to it and quickly went back to bed. However, her voice kept me awake, but not in a bad way. She kept singing and I kept admiring her voice.

           - She sings very well…

           And again, exactly one hour later, the shower was over, she turned off the lights and Luck came back to the bedroom.

- / / -

           On Saturday night the same thing happened again. Exactly at four o’clock, her little show started once again. This time I stood on the window, admiring her voice. It didn’t bother me, since I was a night owl it was okay for me to wake up every night to hear her voice.

           However, her voice started to act on my body and I slowly started to get gently aroused by it. Somehow, it was creating a connection between me and this woman. I thought that was just a coincidence, but ended up deciding to get away from the window and go back to bed, which didn’t work at all.

           Her voice was tender and kept calling me, and although I couldn’t understand what language she was singing in, I didn’t need words to admire that. I started to feel more and more aroused to the point where I stripped down to my white t-shirt from my ex and closed my eyes while I enjoyed that voice.

- / / -

           A few nights passed by with this ritual, always at four o’clock. And I didn’t notice at first, but every single night I felt more and more enamored with that voice, to a point where I eagerly waited for her to start singing. I was in love with that woman’s voice, and I haven’t even seen her before.

           - To be sincere, I don’t think that I’ve ever seen the people who live upstairs.

           That’s when my plan got in motion, I decided I was going to find that woman, just to look at her. Maybe we could talk, and maybe someday something could happen out of it. I felt that if she gave me the chance we could have a strong bond, even if it would be for just one night.

           So, when the sun went up, I put on some nice clothes, some perfume and decided to start looking on the ninth floor for some clues for the whereabouts of that woman. And after some time going back and forth, I figured out that she lived in a row with three apartments: 906, 907, and 908.

           But as I started to approach those apartments, I couldn’t gather enough courage to knock on the doors, especially if I ever knocked on the wrong door, so I gave up and went back to my apartment.

- / / -

           However, every single night I grew more and more unsettled by the notion that I was missing something by not gathering enough courage to look for her, that feeling got branded in my heart and started to destroy my sanity. I would no longer think about anything during the day besides that woman, and my daily activities always geared towards my “private show” at four o’clock.

           - I can’t take this anymore. – Said in a somewhat high volume.

           I quickly covered my mouth.

           - What am I doing? – I thought.

           It was the second week of that routine with me and this woman’s “private show”, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I dressed up very pretty, something I hadn’t done ever since Mark and I broke up, and decided to go knock on the doors. Since it was starting to get dark during that Friday, people should’ve already gotten back to their apartments.

           - That’s my chance.

           I went and knocked on door 906, where a nice old man appeared. He said he lived alone ever since the death of his wife. I gave him some badly-formulated excuse that I was looking for somebody in this building who invited me here.

           - Haven’t I seen you here before? – He asked.

           - I’m sorry but I don’t think so, I just recently moved in. – I replied.

           I then proceeded to knock on door 907, but to no avail.

           Door 908 showed me two young men who lived together to pay for the rent, Simon and his friend Luke.

           - Hi, I know this may sound weird, but I’m cooking and ran out of sugar. Could you guys lend me a cup of sugar? – I asked while trying to not blush with that blatant lie.

           - Sure, Luke! Could you grab a cup of sugar? – Screamed Simon.

           - What for? – Said Luke.

           - The neighbor is asking for some.

           - Weird, I never expected to live to see that happen.

           Luke then grabbed some sugar and handed it to me.

           - Here it is. – Said Luke with a smile.

           - Thank you, guys. – I said with saying farewell to them.

           It was clear now that the woman lived in apartment 907, but she wasn’t home yet.

           - How am I going to find her? – I thought.

           Again, curiosity, maybe burning passion, got the best out of me. I decided it was time to go big or go home, I was going to wait until she started singing, and then I’d get up on the ninth floor and I’d knock on her door.

           The night came in and as the night kept crawling my anxiety started to grow. The last hour before finally visiting the singing woman was the most painful I’ve ever had to endure.

           - Come one… Come on…

           The alarm hit in: The sound of the shower being turned on. I quickly put on a coat, some sweatpants, and my mask. I was going to meet her, finally. All those nights dreaming about this woman will finally pay off.

           - Maybe we’ll kiss… Maybe more than that…

           I gently closed the door not to startle anyone and started going up the stairs.

           When I finally got in front of the door of apartment 907, my heart was beating so fast and I was sweating, even though it was very cold. I could feel my heart warming up to hug her and kiss her.

           - Calm down Christine. You can’t assault someone like that. – I thought as I could feel the heat coming up and covering my whole body.

           I started to shiver in anxiety and my legs were shaking as I closed my eyes and heard: two knocks on the door.

           Silence.

           Suddenly, she had stopped singing and I heard her turn off the shower. I hear footsteps coming to greet me. And a second or two go by as I hear the click of the lock being unmade, I open my eyes, but the door is still closed. She didn’t come.

           - I can’t give up now!

           And from that moment on, my next few steps would be engraved in my head forever: I turned on the doorknob, and just like that, the door was open.

           Inside of it, a pitch-black apartment.

           I stood there, watching in disbelief at what had just happened. After a couple of seconds, I turned on my phone light to search inside for her. But as I walked by them all I could see were empty, dusty rooms. But as I looked towards the bathroom, I could see the light under the door.

           - It must be her! – I thought.

           I walked to the door and turned the doorknob, who allowed me inside.

           As I looked inside my jaw dropped. The room had a working lightbulb, but nobody inside the bathroom. I started to sense fear take control of my body, and I ran away as quickly as possible and closed the door to the apartment, swearing to never go inside that place ever again.

- / / -

           I never told that story to anyone, but if I did, most would say I’m crazy. If it was Carlos, he would tell me to move out, but I didn’t, I still lived here.

           Part of me doesn’t want to believe in what I saw that night, part of me really wants to move out, part of me doesn’t want to believe the people’s story, saying that somebody was brutally killed inside that apartment. But my heart still waits, to this day, every four o’clock, just to see if she’ll sing to me once more.

           - It’s time.

           I gently take Luck to the living room, in hopes that this might incentivize her to sing. And I wait, looking at the bathroom window, from apartment 907, in hopes that’ll see that light turn on once again, that’ll hear the shower being turned on once again, see the vapor coming out of that window, but most importantly: Hear her sing to me one more time.

           - I love you. – I said in a soft tone as I heard a click.

           My heart jumped and I waited, anxiously for the light to turn on, but it never did. So, I went back to my drawing, in it, you could see a girl deeply staring into an empty spot that I still didn’t finish, which was supposed to be the window from apartment 907. On the title, it read: My Sirena.