The Girl Next Door: A Short Story

He couldn't remember when exactly she moved in so he assumed it was right around the same time he did since he had been so preoccupied he could easily have missed an elephant in the hallway. All he was sure of, was that he was madly in love with her. The moment their eyes met, just for a mere second, he was smitten. No, more than that. He was head over heels in crazy love.

If only he had made it to the elevator a little faster that day, he could have actually had much more than an exchange of glances. He did have enough time to spot the nasty black eye she was sporting. She had makeup on it but he could tell what it was. Plus there was the fact that he heard muffled sounds of yelling, screaming and things breaking through the adjoining wall of the apartments every night.

What he saw in those brilliant blue eyes was so pure and deep, he wondered how anyone could harm the girl behind those soulful eyes. Those eyes haunted him for days. At night as he lay in bed listening to the undiscernible yet unmistakeable noises of fighting, he found himself dreaming of being in the arms the young woman with sad blue eyes.

When he finally mustered enough courage to ask for a cup of sugar, (how corny!) on a day he was certain the husband (boyfriend?) wasn't home, she answered the door but wouldn't let him in. He noted that she had another somewhat concealed black eye (was that the same one?). They only exchanged a few quick words before she looked behind her furtively and insisted she had to go. A brief, sweet smile and the door was closed between them yet again.

Her soft musical voice filled his dreams. When the usual sounds of fighting erupted on the other side of the wall, he felt a tugging at his heart. How? Why? Why would anyone beat upon that beautiful girl?

Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer. He pounded on her door and demanded that her tormentor leave her alone. The sounds of fighting never even paused. When he heard her scream, a sudden rage filled him and he threw himself against the door.

It only took a few tries before the door gave way and he found himself inside her apartment. He saw a hulking male figure looming over her, its hands around her throat. Without a second thought he charged the figure, grabbing a heavy crystal vase off the coffee table on the way. He brought the vase down upon the man's head with all his strength. Then he kicked and punched the guy's body and head in a wild flurry.

His rage must have blinded him because the next thing he realized was the soft touch of gentle arms embracing his neck. That lovely voice whispered in his ear that he could stop now. Looking down he saw that he was punching the floor, the guy was gone.

She knelt down on the floor before him, those beautiful eyes filled not with sadness but with something else. (Hope?) She grasped his hands in hers, and whispered something about staying with her forever. When he agreed wholeheartedly, she kissed his lips. As her lips met his, he suddenly felt very light and the world became distant. It was as if his very soul had been set free.

* * * *

The superintendent of the building stated that the man was a loner, an artist who wanted to be by himself. This is why he was the only one on that end of the floor. No one else wanted to be on that end because of what happened in the apartment next to his.

Police records on that apartment declared a young woman was strangled to death by her husband who then took his own life by stabbing himself in the throat with a kitchen knife.

Those were the only hardcore facts in amongst all the speculative stories about why his body was found in the long empty apartment of the murder/suicide. One thing did stay the same in all the stories. Everyone said that he looked happy, and at peace.