MidReal Story

Whispers of the New Neighbor

Anonymous

4d ago

Scenario:You live alone, you don't have any friends, or anyone who lives nearby, you just moved, and you are pregnant

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You live alone, you don't have any friends, or anyone who lives nearby, you just moved, and you are pregnant

Sarah Mitchell

local nurse and Emily's confidante, friend of Emily and acquaintance of Mark, short blonde hair and warm smile, caring and supportive

Mark Jensen

mysterious neighbor, acquaintance of Emily, tall with sharp features and piercing eyes, enigmatic and kind

Emily Carter

pregnant and isolated, no direct relationships, petite with curly brown hair, introverted and resilient

I was packing my suitcase for the hundredth time, trying to squeeze what was left of my belongings into it when I heard a loud knock on the door.

I groaned.

I wasn't ready for visitors yet.

My back ached from bending over and my feet were killing me from standing for so long.

I dragged myself to the door, opening it and looking out into the bright sunlight.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with sharp features stared back at me, his piercing blue eyes darkening as he took in my appearance.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"I'm Mark Jensen."

He held out his hand.

"I live across the hall."

I shook his hand briefly.

"Emily Carter."

I was so focused on trying not to look like I was about to collapse from exhaustion that I didn't invite him in.

"Welcome to the building, I guess."

My gaze drifted across the hall to the door that I assumed was his.

It was the only other door on this floor, other than mine.

I stood frozen, my hand still on the doorknob, as Sarah Mitchell's warm smile brightened the dim hallway.

"Hey, Emily," she said, her voice gentle. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I saw Mark leaving and thought I'd introduce myself."

I forced a smile, feeling a flutter in my chest. Two visitors in one day? This was unprecedented.

"Not at all," I lied, stepping aside to let her in. "Please, come in."

As she entered, her eyes scanned the room, taking in the half-packed boxes and scattered clothes. I felt a pang of embarrassment, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'm Sarah," she said, extending her hand.

I shook it, trying to hide my fatigue. "Emily. Nice to meet you."

Sarah's gaze landed on my belly, and for a moment, we both stared at it in silence. I wondered if she could tell how far along I was.

"So, how's the moving going?" she asked, breaking the silence.

I shrugged, gesturing to the chaos around us. "Slowly. I'm still trying to unpack."

Sarah nodded sympathetically. "I know the feeling. It takes time to settle in."

As we chatted, I couldn't help but notice the way Sarah's dark hair fell in loose waves down her back, or the way her bright yellow sundress seemed to glow in the dim light of my apartment. She was a ray of sunshine in my drab, monotonous world.

Just as I was starting to relax, a loud crash echoed from outside, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

I waved goodbye to Sarah and Mark as they left for work, the apartment suddenly quiet. The silence was almost palpable, a physical presence that wrapped itself around me like a shroud.

I returned to unpacking, sorting through boxes with slow, deliberate movements. The rustle of paper, the clink of dishes, every sound seemed amplified in the stillness. I paused, rubbing my swollen belly, feeling the gentle kick of my unborn child. Then, I continued organizing, trying to distract myself from the creeping sense of isolation.

As I worked, the silence began to feel oppressive, weighing me down like a physical force. I glanced at the clock, noting the time, and decided to take a break. I needed a respite from the emptiness that seemed to be closing in around me.

I sat on the couch, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, and started reading a book to distract myself from the loneliness. The words blurred together on the page as my mind wandered back to Sarah and Mark. They were my only connection to this new place, my only friends.

As I read, I became aware of the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the creaks and groans of the old building settling around me. It was as if the apartment itself was alive, watching me with cold, unblinking eyes.

Suddenly, I heard a faint scratching noise coming from outside my door. It was soft at first, but grew louder, more insistent. My heart began to race as I wondered who it could be. I wasn't expecting any visitors.

I set my book aside and slowly got up from the couch, my eyes fixed on the door. The scratching grew louder still, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears.