The following is an original story by Claire Jones
* * *
Creak, creak, creak
.
Blaire pressed her eyes closed and turned over in bed, sighing as she rolled towards the clock atop the nightstand. Wearily, she slowly opened her eyes to find it was nearly four in the morning. Blaire let out a groan and flopped back into the pillows.
Not again
, her mind whined as the sound of a high-pitched female voice carried through the wall from the opposite side, obviously in a moment of pleasure. Every night, the sound of her neighbor's lovemaking sessions would wake her from already unpleasant dreams like some sort of demented cuckoo clock; or at least that's how the frequency seemed to Blaire's sleep-deprived brain.
To be fair, most things had become an annoyance, even the rather mundane. In the past, Blaire would have brushed off the nightly intrusions easily, but no longer. How could it be any other way? Blaire's job was driving her crazy, her love life was nonexistent, the future she had envisioned as a child was unrealized and to top it off, she couldn't get one decent night of rest. Every bang of the headboard against her wall, every squeak of the bedspring, every wail of orgasm served as a reminder of Blaire's many supposed failures in life.
Sometimes, she couldn't stand it anymore. Blaire wanted to jump out of bed, rush next door and yell every obscenity she conjure at her inconsiderate neighbors. Other times, Blaire fantasized about generating her own sex sounds just to see how they would react. In the end, of course, Blaire turned over in bed and tried to ignore the sounds. Inevitably, her hand would drift down to the apex between her legs and she would release her frustration, finally falling into a fitful sleep early in the morning.
Just as she did this day.
* * *
After Blaire had endured a particularly boring day at the small town newspaper where she worked as a journalist, she exhaustedly flung open the door of her apartment, eager to be home. Hopefully, she could spend her evening alone in peace, maybe even taking the time to order a movie and just possibly even managing to take a relaxing bath. Of course, it was all moot since Blaire knew that in the end she would crash on her lonely double bed, fatigued by her mundane life, and fall asleep at seven in the evening.
Pathetic
, she grimaced.
Blaire exhaled quietly through her nose and scrunched her eyes closed as she lamented her situation. What she really needed in life was not a movie, a bubble bath or even a vacation to some exotic locale, but companionship. Hell, even a good lay every now and then would do wonders for her spirit. Blaire shook her head to clear her thoughts, then headed towards the kitchen to fix herself dinner.
As fate would have it, instead of falling into bed as she had fully expected, Blaire found herself inexplicably drawn to the overly cluttered bedroom in a rare hankering for a good cleaning. For the next half hour, she dusted various knick-knacks and what little furniture she owned. It was sad really, considering that Blaire was a singe female journalist and could afford an upgrade in bedroom sets. However, Blaire viewed such things as unnecessary expenditures since she already had a perfectly usable set. Or maybe she was simply lazy. It was easier to not run around town searching for the perfect four-piece set for her crummy little bedroom and avoid risking downtown traffic for something she already owned. Yes, Blaire reasoned internally, the latter was probably the most true.
The dusting finished, Blaire turned to survey the pictures scattered about the walls of the room. There had to be at least seven large hanging pictures and all in a need a good dusting. Especially the one hanging just to the right of her bed. That one had been there since she had moved in, a gift from the former owner that Blaire had found appealing and thus never bothered to remove - even though it did sort of conflict with her general theme. Blaire walked past her bed until she stood before the picture. Leaning back on her heels, she took a scrutinizing eye to the image. It was a pastoral scene with fluffy clouds and a barn off-center. Blaire swiveled to look around her room at the other pieces of art on the wall, her long auburn hair swinging gracefully as her head turned. The other works reflected a more Mediterranean feel, a holdover from the fascination with Napa Valley she had held in her college days. Blaire turned back to the picture in front of her.
"Better stop stalling and get to it," she muttered under her breath.
Grabbing a rag and some window cleaner, Blaire bounded atop her bed. Gazing at the incredibly dirty picture, she realized it had been some time since anyone had bothered to clean it. Then and there, Blaire decided to take the picture down and give it the thorough cleaning it deserved. Leaning forward awkwardly, she managed to remove the cumbersome object and rested it against the headboard. From the corner of her eye, a dark spot high upon the wall caught her attention. Straightening, Blaire turned to stare at the spot. She cocked her head to the side, perplexed that there appeared to be a small indentation in her wall. Blaire jumped off of her bed, nearly twisting her ankle in her rush, and hurried towards the hole. Unfortunately, even standing on tip-toes, Blaire was still about a head too short to get a good look at it. Frowning, Blaire rushed to the kitchen to retrieve a chair, heart beginning to pound as she made her way back to her room. Once at eye level, Blaire bit her lip and hesitantly peered through the wall.
On the other side, Blaire could clearly make out the bedroom of her neighbors, including the full view of the king-sized bed below. Heart thumping harder, she quickly jumped from the chair and hurried to retrieve the picture. Blaire clumsily struggled to raise the object back onto its hanger, still undusted, then turned around and sat down on the edge of her bed, her breath released in ragged gasps.
"What kind of sick pervert would do such a thing?" she asked aloud to the empty room.
Receiving no answer, Blaire frowned and rested her chin in her hand, thinking hard. Apparently, her neighbors had either never noticed the hole or had discovered it, but found it already blocked. To Blaire, it seemed more likely the former as neither had struck her as particularly observant about such things. Hesitantly, she rose from the bed and walked back towards the picture, mind whirring at the scandalous thoughts in her head. Climbing back onto the kitchen chair, Blaire reached her trembling hands upwards and once more removed the picture from the wall. Carefully, she placed the item back upon bed, then climbed back down from the chair and started towards the door. With one last look over her shoulder, Blaire gave the small hole a quick glance before she hurried into the bathroom for that bath she had promised herself.
"I'll definitely watch a movie tonight," she muttered to herself.
* * *
Blaire awoke in a daze, startled and confused as to where she lay. After a few panicked moments, she discovered that she had fallen asleep on the couch watching some uninteresting movie. Dragging herself from the couch, Blaire made her way to the entertainment center to turn off the TV then stumbled down the short hallway to her bedroom.
A pale dot on one of the wall brought Blaire fully to alertness as her mind clumsily recalled the discovery earlier in the evening. She turned her head to the source of the spot, tracing a shimmer of pale light streaming from the small hole in the upper part of the wall. Blaire closed her eyes for a moment, willing the verboten item from her brain before moving again towards the bed. She sighed as she slipped between the sheets and pulled the comforter over herself. It didn't take long before Blaire realized that it was a pointless endeavor, her mind insistently coming back again and again to the hole in the wall.
Just ignore it
, Blaire's mind warned.
Barely had the words echoed through her mind, did Blaire begin to hear the bed on the other side of the wall begin to creak, the sound of soft pre-coital voices drifting more audibly through the partition since the discovery of the hole. Slowly, the voices and the giggling began to turn to moans and the springs' squeaking came closer together. As Blaire began to subconsciously feel the couple's rhythm, the noises changed to odd ones she couldn't identify. She rolled over to stare at the ceiling, brows furrowing in confusion. The temptation too great, Blaire rose from her bed and stared upward at the light in her wall, too curious to care about any ethical concerns of spying on her neighbors' most intimate moments. Blaire looked to the spot below the hole to discover that the chair had never been returned to its proper place in the kitchen.
Carefully, Blaire quietly crept onto the chair. She pulled back, briefly considering sleeping on the couch to get away from this great temptation. After a few moments of internal debate, Blaire licked her lips and pressed her face against the wall.