𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏 [𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘍𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰]

𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Not even two months after your husband's death, you find yourself completely broke. There's no more jewelry or rare items in your house that are actually worth something. You don't have any more furniture that you can sell. The money you make is barely enough to pay the mortgage to your house. Leading to only one option:

Selling the house.

You hold many memories dear to you between the house's walls, but at some point your basic necessities are more important than mere memories. You have many pictures that can help you recall the happy moments, which should be enough for some time. Maybe one day you can rebuy the house, but for now you don't count on it.

In the end, the house is far too big for a single person. And too gloomy for you. The sun doesn't shine and brightens the house like it used to. Lately every corner is dark, full of recollections of him and his life. It completely brings you down because he's gone.

When you pack everything up is when you come to the realization that you're better off elsewhere. Somewhere that's big enough for you, a place you can afford. A place that doesn't bring back the happy memories that not too long after turn gloomy and sorrowful. Somewhere you can start fresh and forget about it all. Forget the first twenty-four years of your life. Even the happiest moments.

Your quest to forget leads you to the outskirts of town, finding an apartment cheap enough that allows you to take two months off work to live off the bit of your savings and the profit of selling the house– But of course, you won't be doing that. You'll find a job immediately and use your savings to buy what you need and buy some of the furniture that you had sold.

But right now you aren't all too worried about what couch you want for your living room, instead you're more concerned about getting the mattress up to your floor and into your room. You rented a moving truck and managed to convince the old grumpy neighbor next door to help you pack up some of the stuff, but now he's miles away. You have no idea what you're going to do next because you have no idea who anyone is.

So you stand outside the building, arms crossed as you try your best to figure out what you'll do next. You can try to carry all of it to the third floor, but that won't be too easy or good for you. You decide to leave it there for a moment and begin to go upstairs to finally see your new apartment. You were in a rush to find a cheap place to move to, and you didn't even bother to check the unit out. You don't really care if the place is luxurious or if it's the biggest dump in the place, you just want to figure out where you'll be putting your stuff.

It feels like quite a workout when you get to the third floor, making you put your hands on your knees and pant for a moment. You realize that getting your stuff upstairs won't be such an easy task, but you'll somehow manage. Somehow. You still have to figure it out.

When you catch your breath, you walk to your door, your hand going into your pocket to find the key. As you get it out, someone who you can only assume is your new neighbor, walks to the door that's next to yours. Apartment 381.

He's tall and seemingly strong, or at least the shirt that hugs him tightly gives that impression. He has black hair that reaches around his ears, certainly in need of a haircut. He doesn't look like the friendliest to approach, but you wouldn't feel too comfortable knocking on your other neighbors' doors asking for help. You're too focused on the stern look on his face that you nearly miss the little boy that holds the white plastic bag.

"Uhm... Excuse me?" You cringe at the way your voice cracks when you speak up, but regardless, you continue walking up to your neighbor. He turns to look at you, and while usually men's eyes light up at the sight of you, he holds the same expression throughout. You tell him your first name before asking, "I need help carrying some stuff up, and I was wondering..."