The Occurrence in Apartment 25

T/W: mentions abuse and language.

 My mind keeps thinking about why I have to deal with noisy neighbors. I thought that living in an apartment complex would be exciting but now that I have noisy neighbors, I think otherwise. I swing my legs out of the bed and snuggle my feet into my cat slippers. I grab my blankets and car keys before advancing slowly towards my door. I close the door behind me quietly and pass by apartment #25, the only apartment next to mine on this floor. I step downstairs, whilst glancing at my watch. 

1:30 am. 

I sigh before unlocking the doors of the car. I hop inside and make myself comfortable. I turn the alarm on before sitting back, closing my eyes. 

*

I open my eyes to see a man laying on the hood of my car. What the heck? I open the car door and near the man. I tug on him so he wakes up. He shoots up and groans, his right hand on his head. 

“What? Oh. . .” the man says, looking at me with bloodshot eyes. Whoa. 

“Why are you on my hood?” I ask politely as the man stretches. 

“Sorry, I guess I was drunk and collapsed on your hood,” he explains as I nod, accepting his explanation. 

“Ok then,” I say when the man leaves the vicinity. After he disappears, I look up at my apartment feeling total frustration. I ascend the metal steps towards my floor. When I reach my floor I look at apartment 25. I sneer at it before entering my apartment. 

I moved into this apartment two weeks ago and I have been enjoying it so far until I began hearing the noises recently. It all began when I was doing assignments for my college course and I heard loud banging beside me. I dropped my pencil out of alarm. The noises kept happening in separate intervals. It would happen in the morning, afternoon, and night. Plus there would be little fragments of words that I wouldn’t understand. 

To stop these noises from happening, there is only one thing to do that I should’ve done a long time ago. Make a noise complaint. I put on a red and white checkered flannel and I put on my black Reebok sweatpants that I had lying around. Finally, I slip into my black Adidas. I check myself in the mirror before grabbing my phone and heading off.

*

I walk towards the main building of the apartment where my landlord Jake resides. The building is white with noticeable dents on it. I open the glass doors to see Jake behind the counter, his head drooping over some papers flat on his desk. He looks up from them and focuses his gaze on me. 

“Oh Max, nice to see you,” he says as I smile faintly.

“Yes, good morning. Um. . .Jake, can you check apartment 25? I have been hearing a lot of noises happening in that room,” I explain as Jake strokes his chin. 

“Oh I see, I will look into it. Don’t worry,” Jake replies as I nod. 

“Thank you, Jake,” I say before exiting the building. The breeze grazes me which refreshes me. I take a moment to walk along the sidewalk since experiencing cool weather in a place that is mostly hot is rare. I stroll around and I look up at my apartment again. The door has the same beige color that I always hated. Engraved on the door is the number 24. Next to it, is apartment 25. 

Something pops into my mind which is that I never spoke to nor saw the people in apartment 25. Maybe it’s for the best. After stepping upstairs toward my apartment door, I suddenly hear a loud groaning coming from apartment 25. I freeze all of a sudden. 

“Tom, please. I won’t do it again.” It’s a female’s voice.

I furrow my eyebrows as I hear a piercing scream. I step back, my hand on my chest. My heart is beating rapidly. I quickly enter my apartment rushing towards my phone which is sitting on the bed. Once I get it, I try opening the pin but I fail two times due to my trembling fingers. When I finally unlock the pin, there is a loud bang. 

“You bitch!” 

My blood runs cold. 

*

I drop my phone which lands softly on the burgundy carpet. It takes two seconds before I grab my phone from the carpet. I dial 911 quickly and I move the phone near my ear. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

“I hear screaming and loud noises next to my apartment. I think it’s abuse,” I say before I hear more loud noises next door. 

“I’m sorry Tom, I’m sorry.” 

“You always say you’re sorry! Get out, I don’t want to see you!” 

I gape my mouth out of shock. 

“Sir?” 

“Yes?”

“What’s the address?” 

“Cock 42nd Street 3445. Mayflower Apartments. The noise is happening in apartment 25,” I reply. 

“Ok, we will send someone there right away,” the dispatcher says before the line ends. I fling my phone on the bed before sitting in an empty chair. My heart is thumping and thumping. My ears are hot and my fingers are trembling. Dear god. . .

10 minutes later. . .

I look out the window to see a police car parking beside the sidewalk. Two police officers, male and female, get out of the vehicle and they hold guns. They look on either side before ascending the steps towards my floor. They look at my apartment and then an apartment 25. My hands are clinging to the window curtain.

“It’s this one,” the female cop says. The male cop raps the door. After five seconds, the door swings open. 

“Yes?” a gruff male voice is heard.

“We were just called by a neighbor of yours that there were noises occurring in your room. Do you live alone?” 

“No, I have my girlfriend here with me. We were not making any noises whatsoever,” the man replies as I shake my head. He has to be lying. He did make noises. . .awful ones. I look at my front door and decide whether to go out to confront him or to stay here and see what happens.

When I see the police officers leave, I take action. I open the front door. 

“Wait!” I yell and the police officers turn around to see me. “He’s lying!” 

I look at the man who is wearing a black flannel jacket with jeans on. To my mortal discomfort, I see blood smeared on his fist. The man furrows his eyebrows while crossing his arms. 

“Who are you?” the male cop asks me. 

“I’m the one that called you about the noises. There were noises! I heard them very clearly!” I explain as the man scoffs. 

“I wasn’t making any noises,” the man says,” It’s none of your business either way.”

“Well, I heard a female voice in your apartment. From what I heard, she sounded like she was being abused,” I say and suddenly, the man swings his fist in my direction. The male cop grabs his arm and tackles him down.

“Let me go! I need to kick this bastard!” the man says while struggling. 

“Enough!” the cop says as he gets out a pair of handcuffs. I’m panting irregularly as I see the commotion. I raise my head and see the interior of the man's apartment. All I can see is his couch and dining table. A figure of a woman appears in the living room, her arms wrapping her entire body. She looks at me for a second before walking towards the front door. When I see her, I feel my heart drop. The girl's nose is contorted and her whole face is badly bruised. Her whole body is shaking.

“Miss, are you his girlfriend?” the female cop asks as she nods, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“I. . .I’ve b-been. . .hit,” the girl manages to say before collapsing on the ground. The female officer runs to her aid while I step back into my apartment. As I do, I hear the faint screams of Tom in the distance.

*

I wake up to total silence. Of course, there is no one living beside my apartment. My hands are beside me and my face is cool. My thoughts are of that girl that was abused and that sick man who was the abuser. I see the mug shot of Tom appearing on the 6 o'clock news and the abused girl whose name is Monica. I move in all sorts of directions on my bed trying to find a comfortable position. My eyes are gazing at the same wall in which I heard the sounds that fateful day. Suddenly I remember something. Jake did not even do anything about the noises.