I sit bolt upright in my bed, terrified by the sound coming from the room next to mine. It’s a high-pitched screaming that makes my skin crawl and the hairs on my arms stand on end, and then it stops.
Mystified I pull on my robe, slip my feet into my slippers, and go next door to investigate. “Hello,” I say after knocking on the door. “Is anybody there?” I try the handle and it’s unlocked. Slowly I push the door open and cautiously step into the room. “Hello,” I called, louder this time. “Hello, are you alright?” When nobody replies I assume that I had been mistaken and simply imagined the sound. After all there’s obviously no one home. When leaving the room I give my head a slight shake and promise myself to stop my ritual of a pickles, peanut butter, baloney, and chocolate chip sandwich before bed.
The next morning, I slip on my favorite pair of sweatpants, an old basketball jersey, and look at myself in the mirror. The girl in the mirror is pretty with flowing blond hair that curls in wispy strands all the way down to the middle of her back. With stunning blue eyes, long eyelashes, a petite nose, full lips, and a perfect complexion she could easily hang with the popular crowd at school. She would be called Juliana and go shopping and talk about guys and gossip. Instead I ask people to call me Jules, I tie my hair back in messy buns, wear loose baggy clothes, and play basketball, football, volleyball, and ultimate frisbee with a passion. My best friend and also my roommate Natalie is the exact opposite. She has glossy brown hair cut in a short bob around her ears and her face isn’t pretty it’s more, stunning, the kind of face you remember in a crowd of new faces. On top of that she’s the biggest party queen in the world and is always out partying in tight skin hugging clothes until all hours. Which is why when Natalie comes stumbling into our apartment at 8:30 in the morning I’m not in the least bit surprised.
“Hey, How was your night?” I ask.
“Fine,” she replies vaguely “Why is the room…”
And then she throws up. She throws up all over my jersey and it splatters down my shirt and into my hair.
“NATALIE!” I shout, furious, then, realizing she has a hangover and looks dizzy enough to faint, I gently guide her to the bathroom where she throws up again and again. When she starts whimpering I know she is done throwing up, so I sit her down in the bathtub clothes and all, turn on the cold water, and start cleaning my face and shirt. I’m used to this clean up duty; it was something we had worked out from the start of the booze and partying. Today, though, I’m distracted by the previous night’s happenings. After helping her dry off and slip on pajamas I tuck her into bed and sit down to study for my upcoming biology test.
When Natalie finally surfaces around 3:00 in the afternoon I’m watching an old episode of Star Trek N.G., which brings back fond childhood memories of my whole family sitting around the TV sharing blankets and cuddling together.
“Hey,” she murmured. “Sorry about earlier, I know that was your favorite shirt.”
“It’s ok, it came out, and besides I’m used to it by now.” I respond.
“Is something bothering you?” she asks, “Because you only watch this when something’s bugging you or you’re upset.”
I decide to trust her because she’s my closest friend and I know she will always be there to support me, so I tell her about what happened. When I finish my story Natalie sits down on the couch next to me and looks me in the eyes. “Jules I don’t know what you heard last night, but I don’t think there has been anyone living next door for a long time.”
“I don’t think there was anyone either but still to prove to myself that I’m not crazy I just want to look around in the daylight,” Natalie starts to protest but I cut her off by saying. “Please Nat, for my sanity, I just want to convince myself there’s no one there.”
