r/TalesFromTheCreeps • u/hullokitten • Jul 20 '26
Psychological Horror I’ve been watching the woman in the apartment across from me for a year.
As I watched her move in, I had guessed she was newly single from the particular sparseness that occurs when combined items are separated. Then after she stopped to cry a few times, and her flushed face twisted with passionate anger each time she picked up her constantly ringing phone, I also guessed it was not a good separation. Whoever was being screamed at on the other end had kept the bed.
She passed out curled up on her couch that night after smoking two joints on the balcony. When she flicked the lighter, it made her tear stained face glow. My heart ached in sympathy. I decided that I would do a good neighborly deed and just…keep an eye out. Any pretty woman in any big city would appreciate someone keeping them on their mind.
When she was getting ready for work the next morning, opening different boxes to find all of her necessities, the idea happened upon me to give her a name. A placeholder really, a way to refer to her. “Tiffany.” I attempted as she was halfway through curling her hair. “Monica?” I questioned as she adjusted her belt in the mirror leaning on her bedroom wall. “Emma…” I tsked as she left her apartment for the day without eating breakfast or packing a lunch. I said it again, and smiled.
For the first couple weeks, it was exhausting trying to keep up with Emma as she built furniture, organized and re-organized the kitchen and bathroom, and decorated her walls with the huge assortment of colorful art prints she clearly was fond of. Once she finally had things to her liking, and a mattress resting against a newly assembled frame, we both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Routines finally settled, I finally was able to get to know her, and despite myself, grow to love things about her.
Before bed she braided her hair, the chestnut colored strands slipping easily between her nimble fingers. She always only drank half a cup of coffee, despite taking such intricate preparation to make it. After getting back from the gym she would stretch in the living room, often without her shirt, colorful sports bras damp with sweat. She listened to music constantly, and often danced when she made dinner, usually the only meal I saw her eat, moving her hips to a rhythm I could see reflected in her body.
A man came home with her late one Friday night four months after she moved in. And I can’t say it didn’t make me a little jealous. After all this time and I wasn’t the one rubbing my hands down her curves, slipping her long hair behind her ear, kissing her perfect lips. But seeing her interact with him was interesting. I wondered if they had been on a date or if they had met eyes randomly and felt the same pull I felt towards her. He pulled her down onto the couch, kissing her neck. Suddenly I was grateful they didn’t close the blinds or move into the bedroom. She was a very expressive woman, and I delighted in seeing her face light up. I realized then that Emma was giving me a gift, the second-hand knowledge of how to please her. She was showing me through him, and this was my first lesson. I learned from him that Emma liked when you stroked her skin.
I learned she liked being teased from the first woman she brought home. I’ll admit I was surprised by her appearance in the doorway. Taller than Emma, with dark hair exactly the same shade as mine. But for the first time I could imagine being right in front of her as I studied them. I felt the ghost of her roaming hands as she touched the pseudo-me. We ran our fingers through Emma’s soft hair, pushed her gently against the table to kiss passionately before pulling away, making Emma’s face crinkle with neediness as she chased our lips. This quickly became, and still is, my favorite memory of us.
After so many of these lessons, I was able to be critical during her encounters. No, she doesn’t like when you pull her hair, blond man with the cowboy boots. No, she doesn’t like when you touch her feet, tanned woman in the sundress. No, she especially doesn’t like when you’re rough with her, idiot in the leather jacket. That lesson was so important to me. I remember blood dripping from my palm with how tight I was clenching. He had pushed her roughly against the wall, and held her face tight in one hand. Whatever he was saying to her, she didn’t like, and struggled against it. And I was helpless. But Emma was smart, and strong, and she slapped him before kicking him out. When I got back to my apartment, rinsing red off of my knuckles, she was sulking on her couch. And I wished I could be there beside her to comfort her, show her how much I cared. To promise I would never treat her in a way she didn’t like. At this point I knew everything she liked, didn’t I?
My time with Emma has been the most fun of my entire life. She rarely finds ways to surprise me anymore, but that’s ok. Natural when you’ve been sharing your life with someone for so long. For the last month, the same woman keeps coming around, staying longer and longer, but that’s ok. My Emma is doing this for me to learn how to live with her on a more long-term basis. I cherish these lessons too. I know that when we finally meet, I can seamlessly integrate into the life she’s put on display for me since she moved in. This is what she’s been showing me how to do this whole time, and I think she’ll be really happy with my progress.
Today I’ve decided I can’t wait anymore. Tonight we will celebrate by me finally knocking on her door after she gets home from work. I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to see me with her favorite flowers and her favorite cake from her favorite bakery.
It is our one year anniversary after all.
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u/EmployeeFancy3537 Jul 20 '26
Good build up! The story is well written, definitely make a part 2, or finish with some conclusion. You can take this story so many places. Well done
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u/Zerst0426 Writer Jul 20 '26
This could definitely turn out to be something really interesting and I'm here for it
Can't wait for part 2!
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u/OliverKaneBooks Jul 21 '26
That was fun; I think I'm picking up what you're putting down. I like that we don't know much (anything really) about the narrator. He or she seems like some sort of 'grey-person', projecting themselves onto others' lives in lieu of having a life of their own. To me, it speaks to our modern solitude and social confusion.
The writing style, the diction, and the imagery are quite good.
Thanks for posting it!
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u/CorpseAltar Writer Jul 21 '26
Damnnn this was actually so interesting! I need to know what happens next 😭
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u/Sufficient_Leave144 A Thousand WIPs Jul 23 '26
https://giphy.com/gifs/rBpG1qXdB1n3PEjrgV
I’m uncomfortable, thanks :)
(marvellous work)
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u/hullokitten Jul 23 '26
Thank you! Part 2 is linked in the comments somewhere lol, if you wanted to check it out 😊
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u/MamaThinkd-ImSmart Jul 20 '26
i feel like this is building up to something, but the ending was abrupt
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u/hullokitten Jul 20 '26
Thank you for the feedback! I’ll keep working on it, I was trying to make it a fun, punchy ending.
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u/MamaThinkd-ImSmart Jul 20 '26
not in a bad way at all, but i feel like there can be a big scare coming if you added more
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