When I finally woke up after my very long afternoon nap, the clock hanging on the living room wall informed me it was already almost five p.m.

In front of what was beginning to become an exasperating habit - I tended to spend more time asleep than awake during the day - I couldn't help but sigh.

With me, everything was definitely going wrong. No matter how hard I tried to look normal (I'd given up on being a long time ago), I always faced total failure. No... It was definitive. Acting according to the pre-established normality canons wasn't my trademark and unfortunately, it didn't bring me anything very positive.

Before sinking into a permanent wave of depression - a frequent consequence of my prolonged naps - I decided to find an activity to occupy my mind. Seeing the situation around me was critical, I chose to restore a bit of order in my apartment, which looked more like a storage room than a suitable place to live.

After having lazily dragged myself out of the sofa where I had fallen asleep at about three p.m and after a short series of stretches to stretch my sleeping limbs a little, I valiantly tackled the dishes that had been happily piled up in the sink since the previous day. It was a good way to get active without overdoing!

I was soaping a plate whose red colour was almost invisible because of the foam, when a deafening din resounded like a thunder rumbling. The strident noise of broken glass told me that one of my neighbours had decided to wash his dishes by crushing them on the floor...

The neighbour of the opposite apartment again, to not change.

Since I had moved here two weeks ago, the sounds of broken dishes and furniture being thrown against the walls with a crash had become commonplace. They were most often accompanied by shouting and virulent insults at any time of the day or night.

Very soon I knew the culprit was that neighbour and just imagining what everyday life must have been so close to my house gave me shivers. But considering the way this guy looked, it didn't surprise me.

Of course, I wasn't the type to judge people on mere appearances, but this guy didn't really inspire me with confidence. He was in his fifties, very tall and imposing, with a face constantly tinged with anger. Moreover, with his hair slightly greyish, his beard trimmed to the millimetre and his snake eyes, he had everything of the sadistic psychiatrist or the old psychopathic man we see in the black series. I only knew him by sight, but I really hoped to never have to talk to him in the future.

I was putting away the clean, wiped dishes in a kitchen cupboard when a tidal wave of insults as sharp as a razor blade burst through the walls again, making me startled. Recognising the dry and unpleasant voice of the one who was shouting, I guessed it was that damn old man who was still insulting his roommate. Because yes, he didn't live alone, but with another man I had never seen before, and I felt sorry for him with all my strength for having to put up with such a disgusting guy.

Can't no longer bear to be an aural witness to this altercation, I gave up the idea of tidying up my apartment and opted for a walk in the early evening coolness. Breathing the fresh air and walking a little wouldn't be a luxury after spending my Sunday afternoon snoozing and drooling on my sofa.

So, I quickly put on my Converses, fixed my messy hair a little, straightened up my clothes and closed my door, eager to free my ears from this wave of swearing. The corridor was still invaded by my neighbour's choleric voice, well on his way to spit out his venom until the night end, when another voice resounded, which I heard for the first time.

It was a deep but clear voice, with something quite dark and captivating, which made me forget for a moment why I was in the corridor and pushed me to listen unconsciously what he was saying.

"SHUT UP, YOU OLD BASTARD!" The voice owner roared, who must have been my neighbour's mysterious roommate and who had obviously go off the rails in his turn. "I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOU THINK!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU ANIMAL!" The old man shouted.

Immediately, a new sound of furniture being knocked over on the floor was heard, which encouraged me to get out as quickly as possible before I accidentally witnessed a murder and was silenced by the culprit.

So it was like running for my life that I left the building. Outside, the atmosphere suddenly seemed as light as a feather, light-years away from the apocalyptic atmosphere that reigned in the corridor.

I took a deep breath with some relief before heading towards the park, a quarter of an hour's walk from my building. I loved to walk there at the end of the day when the sun was getting shyer. The proximity of the vegetation, the scent of the earth and the flowers, the soothing silence disturbed by the discussions of the passers-by, the meowing of the cats who had taken up residence in this corner of greenery... All this relaxed me and made me forget my worries a little.

Already I was a pro at attracting problems, it had been necessary for a police inspector to summon me to the station next week. Since then, even though I knew I was innocent of any crime, I couldn't help but feel apprehension and fear.

The closer the date approached, the more I felt like I was running out of air, that an invisible cable was tightening my throat more and more, not to mention the headaches and stomach aches that left me less and less at peace.

The summons probably had something to do with the robbery I had witnessed two days ago when I left the supermarket. Have I ever said that I was a problem magnet ? No, it was more than that. I had a subscription to troubles. Fortunately, there were no injuries that day. The police must have had a lead and wanted my help in identifying the culprit, as we see in movies. This was what I imagined and I was trying to convince myself of this to not be even more stressed. But if that was the case, that inspector could have told me! Why do the police always have to make mysteries of everything?

Anyway. 

As my psychologist says, I have to stop making a mountain of the smallest awkward news that arose in my life and take things calmly, with relativism... If only it were as easy to say as to do!

On the way back to my building, about two hours later, I couldn't help but wonder if that fucking old man and his roommate were still arguing, or if one of them had finally killed the other.

Personally, if I had been the roommate, I would have left long ago. Besides, I couldn't see what could push him to live like that, in such a chaotic atmosphere. Was he a kind of masochist? Did he like to suffer? Perhaps it was a member of my neighbour's family or... his lover? At that thought, I felt quite nauseous. Of course, it wasn't the idea of a relationship between men that repelled me, being myself more attracted to men than women. But to imagine this hateful guy with another man or with a woman, or with anything else, was a pure horror vision.

In order to chase away the unsightly images formed by my overflowing imagination, I shook my head. At the same time, I arrived near my building and noticed (almost reluctantly) that no police car or ambulance was parked in the vicinity. No murder then... Too bad. 

Immediately, I slapped myself mentally.

Honestly, it wasn't good to wish your neighbour dead, even if he's unsympathetic, alcoholic, and gives you suggestive glances when he meet you in the corridor. No. You wish him at worst to break a leg! Hmmm... No. Aaah... Shit! A broken leg, this isn't so mean!

That's what I thought when, as I was about to enter the building hall, my eyes were caught by un unknow silhouette crouching on the floor, his back to the building wall, his face buried in his knees. One of his hands was landing on his head, while the other was mechanically hitting the wall.

The sound of his fist hitting the wall over and over again, without stopping for a second, made my heart ache because I could imagine how much it must be painful. But he wouldn't stop, as if he wanted to torture himself.

Looking around, I saw that we were alone. It was getting dark. Of course, this person wasn't doing wrong to anyone, but it wasn't a very normal attitude either.

Was it my business? Of course not.

Was it safe to approach a stranger who seemed so disturbed? Of course not.

Was I going to do it anyway?

Standing motionless in front of the building entrance, I didn't seriously ask myself the question, because I already knew the answer.

...ah, did I ever say I have the unfortunate tendency to often get into trouble?

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Hey! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Whose point of view do you think it is ? :D Don't hesitate to give me your opinion ! <3 Kisses ! 

SaaheVer.