The one I’m always writing about. Two days ago it was about 9:00 pm and I heard someone outside my front door sobbing and sobbing. I was going outside but then I heard the women neighbors come outside and I could hear them trying to calm the woman down.
From what I heard, I just assumed that the woman was crying because her boyfriend had hit her or broken up with her. This went on for awhile but I opened the door a couple times to look outside and nobody said anything to me so I gathered they did not need any help from me. Then I heard several people walking around upstairs above me.
Anyways, I saw the counselor for this building parked outside and the neighbor had been particularly mean this past week and I had pounded on the walls or the door, so when the counselor came I thought for sure she came to warn me that was against the lease.
She knocked on my door and I was all ready to defend myself but she told me that the guy upstairs had died and all those footsteps were the police… I was in shock. It was one of those weird things that happen, and it especially hit home because he was younger than me. The crying was his mother and father.
The counselor came in and I was all worked up, and we talked somberly but for a split second I smiled and she saw it. I couldn’t help it, I was happy for that brief second that the sadistic torture was finally over. But I composed myself and acted appropriately.
But the worst part of it was that this counselor wanted to believe that everybody in the building got along and everybody was nice, which is so far from the truth. So when the counselor told me I could talk to her so she could “help me grieve through this difficult time”. I said OK, but in reality I saw little to grieve about except for the poor parents losing a son. I feel bad for them and I hope the guy died painlessly and quickly without suffering.
Anyways, I’m not going to bad mouth the dead except to say he changed my life forever in a seriously negative way.