Neighbor’s Nightmare

“Holy Shit!” I squealed. (Okay, screamed) The ancient bed cried and my weighted breath raced to keep with his. “They're going to kill us” he mouthed but already I was out of body, out of mind.

Our sweat laced frames molded together, focused on the musty air. The predicted sound of a pounding wall played from the other side. A moan and a giggle, spilled from me but no protest.

We were predictable. Every night, like clock work, there will be screaming. I thought they'd get ear plugs. NO! His neighbors decided to pound the percussion instrument between us. Every. God. Damn. Night.

But that night it progressed to the door.

He stopped. I froze. Repeatedly knock, knock, knock. With a quick glance in my direction he opened his thin door. His RA, my brother, stood gaping at me wrapped in comforters that weren’t mine.

Then there was a ban to Blue Moon Hall,

floor five,

room three-69.

Mes G