The depth of short stories and micro-fiction 2

The Note Next Door

Tasha had always been a light sleeper, but the past few nights had been gruelling. The constant thumping bass and screeching guitars from the apartment next door had made it impossible for her to get a wink of sleep. She had tried earplugs, white noise machines, and even stuffing her head under the pillow, but nothing seemed to block out the cacophony.

As the night wore on, Tasha's frustration grew. She had worked the next day and desperately needed some rest. She tossed and turned, her anger simmering just below the surface. Finally, at 2:30 AM, she'd had enough. She threw off the covers and stomped out of bed, determined to put an end to the noise once and for all.

She grabbed her phone and dialled the police department's non-emergency number, trying to keep her tone calm as she reported the disturbance. The dispatcher assured her that someone would be sent over to address the issue.

Twenty minutes later, Tasha heard sirens outside and the thumping music finally ceased. She peeked out her peephole to see two officers standing in the hallway, knocking on the door of the noisy apartment. After a moment, one of the officers turned to her and nodded, and Tasha opened her door to let them in.

"Ma'am, can you tell us what happened?" one of the officers asked, his voice firm but friendly.

Tasha explained the situation, trying to keep her tone neutral. "I just couldn't sleep with the music blasting. I've tried to be patient, but it's been going on for nights."

The officer nodded sympathetically. "We'll take care of it. Can you wait here for just a minute?"

Tasha nodded and stepped back into her apartment, leaving the door ajar. She heard the officers knocking on the door again, this time more insistently. After a moment, she heard the door creaking open, followed by a pause.

Then, one of the officers called out, "Ma'am, I think you should come out here."

Tasha's curiosity got the better of her, and she stepped back into the hallway. That's when she saw him – the noisy neighbour, lying on the floor, a look of shock frozen on his face. Tasha's eyes widened as she took in the scene. The officer was holding a piece of paper in his gloved hand, and as he turned it over, Tasha's heart skipped a beat.

The paper had her name and address scribbled on it in messy handwriting. A chill ran down her spine as she realized the implications. The noisy neighbour hadn't just been a random disturbance – he had been trying to get her attention.

The officers exchanged a look, and one of them stepped forward. "Ma'am, we need to ask you some questions. Can you come down to the station with us?"

Tasha's mind reeled as she followed the officers out of the apartment building. What had the noisy neighbour wanted from her? And why had he written her name and address on that piece of paper? As she sat in the back of the police car, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life was about to change in ways she couldn't yet imagine.

At the station, Tasha was ushered into a small interview room. A detective, a no-nonsense woman with a kind face, introduced herself and began asking questions.

"Can you tell me about your relationship with the victim?" the detective asked, her eyes locked on Tasha's.

Tasha shook her head. "I didn't know him. I'd never even seen him before. He just moved in next door a few days ago, and the noise started immediately."

The detective nodded. "Did you notice anything unusual about him or his behaviour?"

Tasha thought back, trying to recall any details. "He was always playing music late at night, but that's it. I never saw him during the day, and we never spoke."

The detective made a note on her pad. "We'll be looking into his background, but in the meantime, I need to ask – do you have any idea why he might have written your name and address on that piece of paper?"

Tasha hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I... I have no idea. It's freaking me out, to be honest."

The detective's expression softened. "I understand. We'll do our best to get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, I recommend you take some precautions. We'll have an officer keep an eye on your apartment, just in case."

As Tasha left the station, her mind was racing. Who was the noisy neighbour, and what had he wanted from her? She couldn't shake the feeling that she was in danger, that her life had been disrupted in ways she couldn't yet understand.

As she walked back to her apartment, she noticed a piece of paper taped to her door. Her heart skipped a beat as she approached it, wondering if it was another message from the mysterious neighbour. But as she ripped it off, she saw that it was just a note from the police department, informing her that they would be keeping an eye on her apartment.

Tasha let out a sigh of relief, but the unease lingered. She knew that she would never look at her neighbours the same way again, that the noise next door had awakened a sense of vulnerability she hadn't felt in years.

As she locked her door and tried to settle in for the night, Tasha couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that the noisy neighbour's death was just the beginning of a mystery that would unravel her life in ways she couldn't yet imagine.