His name was George; your next-door neighbor who had just moved in—about a week ago. He was 21 years old, 1.88 meters tall. Extroverted and handsome. You’d only seen him once. He was standing by his balcony, smoking a cigarette.

Inside your apartment, it was all shadow and gloom. You had taped papers to the windows. You hated sunlight. Every night, you had the same nightmare—the same recurring terror. The one where your father killed your brother, and your mother tried to kill you but you escaped. Because you were... strange. Every time you looked someone in the eyes, they either died or something bad happened to them. Every time you tried to kill yourself, you came back to life. When you tried to hang yourself, or when you tried any kind of suicide, your wounds always healed—like nothing had happened. Once, you even blinded yourself. But ten seconds later, you could see everything again.

Now, you were no longer able to die or truly live. All you did was eat and sleep.

Then one day, by chance, you peeled a bit of the paper away from the window and peeked outside. George was standing on his balcony, talking on the phone, leaning against the railing. Your eyes accidentally met his. He smiled—a small smile.

But you quickly stuck the paper back onto the glass and stepped backward. You left your sunglasses on the small wooden table by the couch, and turned on the TV.

You sat on the couch.

It was a movie channel. Your mind was elsewhere. Then you saw the countdown timer appear above a man’s head on the screen. The time of his death was one minute from now.

You grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.

(Three days later)

It was afternoon. You were eating an apple by the kitchen counter when the sound of knocking made your calm heart race. The apple got stuck in your throat and you spat it out quickly, frozen in place.

The knocking was gentle. Then a soft, masculine voice came through the door:

“Hi, I’m George. I just moved into the apartment across from yours. Thought I’d bring a little something as a hello.”

He paused. Then you heard a rustling sound—he had placed a plastic bag in front of your door.

A few minutes passed, and when no more sound came from the other side, you slowly walked to the door and opened it just a crack using the chain lock. You saw the plastic bag sitting there. Inside were a few peaches. You gently picked them up and shut the door again.