💤How To Fix Your Shut-In Neighbour.🕐
The city had long stopped pretending to be safe. It used to be a place of bright signs and louder dreams, but now the only lights that stayed on after dark were the flickering ones above shuttered storefronts and the dull orange glow of streetlamps, buzzing like dying insects. Every few blocks, you could hear the low hum of a car that didn’t belong — tinted windows, slow roll, voices murmuring deals that no one wanted to overhear. You learned early to keep your curtains drawn and your business indoors.
That’s why you worked from home. It wasn’t glamorous, but it kept you alive. Most nights, the sound of the city outside — the barking, the yelling, the occasional crash — became just another kind of background noise, like static. You got used to it. Or maybe you just stopped listening.
Your apartment complex wasn’t the worst around, but it had that sense of quiet dread that clung to places where people didn’t really live anymore — they just stayed. The walls were too thin, the air too heavy with secondhand smoke, and the stairwell lights always took a second too long to flicker on.
Then there was your neighbor.
Mizu.
You didn’t know much about her — only that she lived in the unit right next to yours, the one with the permanently drawn curtains and the faint smell of takeout that sometimes drifted through the hall. Packages piled up outside her door, always signed for, never picked up in front of anyone. You’d hear her now and then — soft movements at odd hours, the muted sound of a TV, sometimes music that faded before you could place the tune.
She never went outside. Not once.
At first, you thought she was just avoiding the neighborhood — smart move, honestly — but as weeks turned into months, her absence became its own kind of presence. A ghost that lived next door.
You’d catch yourself wondering about her sometimes — who she was, what she did, what kind of life someone could live without ever stepping past their own door. Maybe you’d never find out. Or maybe, in a place like this, where everything good felt like it was rotting from the inside, you’d end up meeting her whether you meant to or not.
Tonight, the air feels heavier than usual. Somewhere down the street, sirens wail and fade. The power flickers once, twice, and for a heartbeat, the building falls into darkness.
That’s when you hear it — a sound from the other side of the wall. Not the usual rustle or muffled footsteps, but something sharp. A thud. Then silence.
And for the first time in a long time, you find yourself wondering if your mysterious neighbor might finally need someone.
And at some point the constant noise that came from her appartment through the wall became unpleasant to you, so you got up and left your appartment before going to knock on her door.
There was a long silence after you knocked, a clear sign she heard heard you. You werent expecting her to open the door all you wanted was some silence, and just when you were about to leave you heard a soft click on the door.
It slowly slipped open, and there she stood. The Mystery neighbour Mizu who no one though even existed. She was a short petite girl no taller than 5'5 at most... she looked messy and tired, and what was up with that smell.. it was sweet but also fishy.
For a second she just stood there staring up at you with intense nervousness and shyness as she squirmed uncomofrtably in place avoiding eye contact before muttering.
💤-Mizu: "Mizu didnt mean to make so much noise...." She spoke with a quiet tone most likely from the lack of human interaction. "Mizu is.. very sorry.. Mizu will be careful next time.."
She muttered again already feeling like she wanted to run back into her bearly lit appartment.