The Line We Built

Cortknee's Couch

Courtney remembered the first time Shayne spent the night on her couch.

It must have been over a month since her breakup. Perhaps a few weeks since Shayne and she started gifting each other their morning and afternoon snacks. At that point in time, Courtney was just getting back into the rhythm of living alone. It went without saying that she was a people person, and she loved having a roommate, whether that roommate was someone she was in a relationship with, or simply a friend. Yet at the same time, she did enjoy having an apartment to herself. It allowed Courtney to have her own quiet moments at the start and end of the day when she could actually hear herself think without interruption.

Besides, she had Jango. Dogs made for the best roommates. They kept you company, didn't talk, and were obedient good boys and girls.

But then Lady Luck never seemed to favor her too much. Her neighbors were one by one reporting break-ins. A burglar was making the rounds and performing a whole spree of thievery in her building. Nobody was hurt, thank God. He seemed to either break in when the residents were away, or the dead of night when they were asleep. The police didn't have any solid leads so far. That's what they told her building's manager anyway. But who could blame the cops? Her building's crappy management couldn't reliably empty out garbage bins, what more install security measures like cameras?

Courtney tried not to think about it too much during her day-to-day activities. She pushed it into the back of her mind, focusing instead on work and her friends. They were always a welcome and joyful distraction. She simply double checked that her doors and windows were locked and went on with her life. She kept up the charade of normalcy, even when she began to see silhouettes in every dark corner and ill intent behind every stranger. But the break-ins kept happening, and her mask of nonchalance was beginning to crack and give way to the anxiety bubbling up deep within.

It was an ordinary day like any other. It was a busy Friday full of shoots and table reads, and Courtney wanted to do nothing but order in dinner then pass out. She'd just gotten off the elevator when she saw the newest development firsthand.

Two police officers stood by her neighbor's door, speaking to her next-door neighbor in quiet voices. Harry was a few years her senior, with brown curly hair and dreams of dethroning George R. R. Martin as the king of fantasy drama. She learned that Harry's flat was broken into just that day.

Harry was the type of guy that gave all his neighbors a cupcake if his mom sent him a batch too big. He held the elevator door open for you. He kept his music at a reasonable level. He helped you carry an extra bag of groceries. It pained Courtney to hear that such a gentle soul like him had wound up in the burglar's sights.

Courtney learned that the burglar was most likely picking locks. Mostly door locks, but the burglar hit the occasional window too (accessed by fire escape), by the sound of it. It sent a chill down her spine then, thinking about her stupid, flimsy door lock and utter lack of deadbolt as she let herself into her apartment. Jango bounded forward to greet her, and she welcomed his affection. She locked the door behind her and slid to the ground, allowing the oversized pup onto her lap as he licked at her face.

She embraced her pup for all he was worth, pressing her face into his fur to keep out of sight the shadows that could conceal her would-be burglar. Her literal next-door neighbor was hit. She was bound to be next. It was easy to distance herself from the other affected homes when they were a floor or two away, but this? The apartment she shared a wall with? Courtney blew a raspberry out, prompting Jango to give her a curious look.

Courtney craned her neck to look up at her pathetic security measures that apparently stood no chance against anyone who knew how to pick a lock. She pressed her face back into Jango's fur and held the him close. As comforting as Jango's presence was, her guard dog was an anxious sweetheart who would sooner ask for belly rubs than bark at an intruder.