The Man Next Door ( A True Story)

The walls were thin.  I could hear him ranting and raving, cursing the poor soul who fell victim to his verbal assault.  Sometimes she would argue back in her high pitched terrified voice, only to be shut down immediately by words, a slam against the wall or a fist.

I could hear her crying in agony, both mental and physical.  I would see him come and go each day.  He always smiled and said hello...not a clue as to the monster within.  I never saw her.  A few times after he left for work, I would knock on their door, but she never answered.  I wondered who this poor creature was that she was such a recluse.

One night the rage got so bad, I called the police.  He had been screaming and cursing her.  Suddenly I heard him threaten her life and I heard a loud thud...and then silence. I knocked on the door, but nobody answered.

By the time the police arrived, I was afraid it would be too late for the poor woman.  I kept my door cracked so as to see if she was okay.  I was surprised to see the police leaving after having been inside for only a few minutes.  When I asked one of the officers if the woman was okay, he said, "There is no woman there.  Just a man.  Everything is fine."

My heart stopped.  Was I going mad?  I knew that I had not imagined all that I had heard.  As soon as the police left, the ranting and raving started once again.  A cold chill ran over me.  I realized that all that I had heard was all him.  Both tortured voices were coming from the same tortured soul.

I walked over to my door and made sure it was locked.  I then turned up my music to drown out the rantings of the madman who lived next door.