Mr. Inoue just appeared in the apartment across from mine. None of my neighbors knew when he moved in, what he did, or even his first name. All we knew was that he was a friendly, handsome guy in his late twenties, early 30's who kept mostly to himself but would help little old ladies with their groceries and feed stray cats.
I loved watching him through the peephole whenever he came in. He was too handsome, almost disgustingly so. He had beautiful dark brown, almost black eyes; pale skin with a hint of red almost like iced cinnamon; and gorgeous dark brown hair. Whenever I heard the familiar sounds of his boots on the hallway floor outside, I rushed to the door to watch him. He just walked and turned to his door, unlocking it and letting himself in.
In my heart, I knew I'd never end up with a guy like that. After one last vision of him walking in and entering his abode, I turned back to my apartment and sighed. Mad George, my fat tabby, sat at my feet. He looked up at my face almost apologetically. I scooped him up and sighed as I pet behind his ears.
I wasn't hideous, if fact I had been called cute or pretty my whole life but girls like me didn't end up with guys like him. Still snuggling the cat in my arms, I walked to stand in front of the full length mirror. I wore my usual uniform for my days off from work: Black tights and a long loose men's shirt with something nerdy on it. Today, it was a Zelda reference. I had nice skin at least, smooth velvety chocolate, but my hair was a wild swing of curls that never wanted to do what I wanted. I looked at my big hips and thighs and hid my smaller breasts behind Mad George. My size bounced back and forth between a 14 and 16. My height and weight distribution helped but some days I just felt awful about my body.
I sighed and rubbed George's tummy before heading to my bedroom and slumping on my bed. It smelled different again, like fresh soap and expensive cologne. Turning to bury my face in it, I sighed. I knew it had to be my imagination. Like when I came home and thought someone had rearranged my fridge or when I open a cabinet to see something nice that I didn't remember buying. I was pretty sure I was going crazy.
A sudden crash made me jump. Mad George jumped from my arms and hid beneath the bed. Another crash followed. I stood and against all better judgment went toward the sounds. It was outside my apartment. I cautiously checked the peephole to see Mr. Inoue's door wide open. Part of the frame was broken like it had been kicked in. There were continuously loud sounds and tussling. It was 2 am on a Wednesday and our entire floor in the small building was made up of working people. I wouldn't have been surprised if we were the only ones there.
I picked up my cell to call for help but I couldn't get a signal. It shocked me because I had great service in my apartment. I heard a cry and it sounded like Mr. Inoue's.
"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." I told myself as I picked up the heaviest of cast iron pans I'd received from my mom.
I quietly opened the door stepped out. My heart raced as I tip toed across the hall. The apartment was a mess from the struggle. There was glass and other kinds of shards on the floor. Dirt from potted plants spread across it all like comet tails. The coffee table was broken in half. I looked into the hallway to see a rough looking man standing over Mr. Inoue, a gun in his hand. His head was shaved and there were Cyrillic tattoos on the back of it.
As the gun lifted, I acted before thinking. I ran, slamming his hand with the pan. He was caught by surprise as all he could do was block as I repeatedly struck with the pan with adrenaline fueled strength. I whacked at his arms and head and heard bones break but didn't stop. When he stopped moving I fell back against the wall, panting.
Two hands cupped my face and someone was looking into my eyes. "Vinnie, come on we've got to go."
"What?" I blinked at Mr. Inoue's face. How did he even know my name?
"Winnie, let's go. We've got to go."
"O-Ok." I let him help me stand before he turned around and kneeled over man. His hands reached down and a sudden crack filled the air. "You just broke his neck. You just broke his neck. You ju-"
He stood and put his hand over my mouth to cut me off. "Yes. But he was going to keep going until he killed you and me and I'm not going to let anyone kill you. Give me the pan." I handed it over to him. "Go back to your apartment, pack all your underwear and important documents and come back."
I trembled but nodded then my eyes got wider. "What about my cat?"
"Mad George comes with us. Pack him too but just him. No litter or food. Ok?"
I nodded and stumbled my way back across the hallway. Nothing made sense. He knew my name; he knew my cats' name. I did as I was told but I couldn't stop shaking. I'd just seen a man die and it was partially my fault.
After all of my underwear and documents were packed I coaxed George out from under my bed with treats and placed him into the carrier I used when we traveled. Amazingly, I didn't have any cuts on the bottoms of my feet. I put on socks and sneakers before locking the door and walking back across the hall. All in all, I had one overnight bag and the carrier.
Mr. Inoue had a bag as well. I finally had a chance to see the wares of the fight on him. His knuckles were bruised and opened and there were cuts to his chin and neck. He stopped stomping his cell phone and looked at me.
"When was the last time you went home?"
"Ugh, Christmas..." My voice was hoarse and hollow in my throat.
He smiled softly and walked closer to me. "Let's go then. I want to meet the wonderful woman who made you."
I cocked my head to the side. Who the hell was this guy? How could he just turn Casanova after snapping a guy's neck? Then he leaned in and kissed me. 'Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.' I told myself as my body quivered under it.
He pulled back and grinned. "Ready to go?"
