Next Door Neighbor
By Alamsci alamsci@lycos.com


A work of fiction.

I had just moved into a new apartment in the city and was arduously struggling up the 
stairs with a box of books.  I wasn't halfway done, moving in, but was already 
breathing heavily and beginning to feel tired. I heard someone making his or her way 
up the stairs. As the sound of footsteps was becoming clearer I unexpectedly felt a 
sharp blow delivered to my back. I lost my balance, dropped the box and fell on top of 
it. I looked up and saw a woman continue jogging up the stairs.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" I angrily shouted.

"You know if you didn't wobble so much I wouldn't have bumped into you." She 
disinterestedly said.

"Whatever lady!"

She turned around and started walking towards me. This is when I fully absorbed her 
figure. This woman looked tough. She seemed to be in her late thirties maybe early 
forties. Her face gave that away, but her body was another story. It resembled that of a 
fitness competitor. She was wearing a sports bra and tight shorts. Her muscles 
confidently danced as she mad her way towards me. What made her look tough were 
mainly her facial features: high cheekbones, a nose that jutted out; It was not a huge 
nose, but rather pointy and definitely noticeable. This was accompanied by sunk in 
cheeks; small brown eyes not to the point of being beady and short curly brown hair. 
All in all, these features resulted in an overtly arrogant demeanor.  

I've always been a female muscle admirer, but this woman sent shivers down my 
spine. 

I checked her out for several seconds and then quickly averted my attention to the 
mess in front of me. I heard her let out a small chuckle as she approached me. 

"Let me help you with those."  She said as she leaned down. In turn, I instinctively 
began admiring her vascular forearms as they graciously moved from one book to 
another. When we were finished she said, "I'll carry these up to your apartment, you 
look worn out, next time if the box feels too heavy you should make two trips. That 
way you won't hurt yourself."  She picked up the box with a lot more ease than I did 
and carried it up for me. As we were walking up I was mesmerized by her bulging 
bicep. You see she had put the palm of her left hand underneath the box. Her right 
hand sturdily supported the box via the bottom right edge. I was standing on her left 
admiring her bicep. Her bicep was nicely sculpted and her shoulder admirably cut. 
Additionally, each muscle group seemed to be clearly visible.

My eyes made their way to her face, where my admiration, again, turned to 
uneasiness. She wasn't looking at me or about to scold me for checking her out, but I 
just got the feeling that this was a tough and arrogant woman, who looked down upon 
me. I pointed to my apartment and then opened the door for her. She walked in and 
set the box down. She then walked towards me and said, "It seems like you've just 
started taking your boxes up. Let me help you out. By the way, I'm your next door 
neighbor, the name is Nicole Simmons."

"Harold Chauncy, nice to meet you!" 
She firmly squeezed my hand and remarked, "Let's go get those boxes."

She carried up all my heavy boxes alone and did not need my help one bit. She told 
me to carry up all the lighter boxes and bags. When I tried to carry up a heavy box she 
gave me a sarcastic look and grabbed it out of my hands, "Don't let that male ego get 
in the way. You obviously can't handle these heavy ones so don't try, you'll end up 
hurting yourself!" 

"By the way your lucky I bumped into you...if I hadn't….well,  moving in would've 
taken a few hours and then you'd be sore all over!" She remarked with a chuckle.

When she finished carrying my boxes up she looked over at me, "If you need 
anything feel free t knock on my door. I'm a busy woman, but when I'm around I'll 
be more than happy to help out."

"Thanks a lot Nicole!" I replied.

I went back to unpacking, but she didn't move. I looked up at her and noticed her 
crossing her arms and angrily staring at me, "That's Ms. Simmons, young man!"

"I….I'm sorry Ms. Simmons!" I stuttered.

"You look young… I'll let it pass this time." She seriously commented.

"Yeah, I just graduated. I went to college her in the city."

She ignored my remark, turned around and made her way out the door. From the back 
she looked awesome, thick bouncing calves, large straining hamstrings, and a broad 
well proportioned back.

The next morning on my way out the door I saw her heading to her car. We curtly 
exchanged pleasantries and subsequently went our separate ways. As I w as walking 
towards the bus station a car pulled up next to me, "Harold, why don't you get in, I'll 
give you a ride!" 
As I got in she looked me over and asked, "Where do you work?"

"Oh, it's down on George Street!"

"That's convenient, I work down there too."

We spent the rest of the ride in silence. She dropped me off in front of my building 
and headed off, but before she left she told me to pass by the George Street Gym 
before I went home because if she were around she would give me a ride back.

"You could also use some weight training Harold!"

 You see Ms. Simmons worked part-time as a computer programmer.  In the 
afternoons she worked at the gym as a personal trainer.
 
After work I decided to head back by myself. I really didn't want to rely on a woman, 
who made me feel uncomfortable and frankly seemed extremely uptight. The next day 
I tried to leave early so I wouldn't have to run into her in the morning, it worked, so I 
continued to do this until the end of the week. Friday had finally come a long. The 
first week at work was not hectic, mainly orientation, but I still felt the need to kick 
back and get tanked. I invited over two of my college buddies.

The night started off nicely just the three of us kicking back and chatting. As the 
drinks began to take their toll we turned up the music and began acting like loud 
drunks. Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. I opened the door and there, standing 
in front of me, was Ms.Simmons. She looked pissed. Before I could greet her she 
sternly expressed, "Harold you better turn that stereo down now." Then she glared 
down at me, "Well, what are you waiting for?" 

I closed the door and went back to my friends. "Hey, who was that?" 

"Oh, just the neighbor, she wants me to turn the music down!"

"What? Its not even 11 o'clock fuck her!"

"Guys, I'd rather turn it down, you two haven't seen this woman. She looks tough and 
acts tough. She's taller than me and is probably in better shape than all three of us. I 
really don't want to mess with her!"

"What's the big deal, your 5'7", a lot of girls are taller than you!"

"So your scared of your little neighbor broad??" My other friend added amidst a burst 
of laughter. 

"I'm turning the music down now!"

My two friends wouldn't let me. They  blocked the path between the stereo and 
myself.

During our little argument we heard another knock at the door. I looked at them. They 
began to laugh, "Come on Harold go open the door…Or should we… Is the big bad 
neighbor gonna hurt you!"

They continued laughing at my terrified expression. I reluctantly and fearfully made 
my way towards the door. As I was about to open the door I heard a real loud knock 
and Ms. Simmons angrily yelling, "Open the door Harold!"

I opened the door and meekly made eye contact with her. She looked furious. Without 
saying a word she grabbed me by the collar with both hands, brought me close to her 
and then slammed me against the edge of the door, "AAAAGGHHHHH!" I yelled.
"Boy, you don't seem to have any manners, do you? I'm gonna knock some sense 
into you right now!"

I instinctively grabbed her thick wrists and tried to loosen her hold, but they wouldn't 
budge. She held me up for awhile. I started to scratch her skin like a helpless child so 
she yanked me towards her and slammed my pathetic body against the wall a second 
time.

"I'm giving you one more chance, boy! Now, go inside and turn that music down!" 
She huskily bellowed.

I was then roughly thrown into my apartment, but Ms. Simmons didn't walk away. I 
looked up at her imposing figure with a fearful expression. She was wearing a white 
tank top. Her muscular arms were menacingly exposed. I took one look at her strong 
forearms and wrists and shuddered unexpectedly. Those wrists that I couldn't budge 
sparked an unprecedented energy from within, which caused me to jump up and run 
into the living room to turn down the music. 

At first I was a bit surprised at why my two friends hadn't come out to see this 
woman, but as I entered the living room I realized why. The two drunkards were too 
busy wrestling around on the floor. 

"Guys, turn down the music Ms. Simmons is here!" I helplessly shrieked.

They both looked at me and disinterestedly said, "Whatever!"

Then they both jumped up and re-blocked my path to the stereo. I turned around, to go 
and explain my predicament to Ms. Simmons, but she stopped me in my tracks with a 
powerful right to my jaw. I stumbled back and held onto the arm of the couch for 
support. Before I had time to look up I felt a sharp pain making its way through my 
gut. Her bare foot had relentlessly shot up into my unprotected gut. I instantaneously 
doubled over and fell to the ground.

By this time my two friends were watching this one sided beating with awe. Ms. 
Simmons grabbed my hair and yanked me up. She then twisted my right arm and 
walked me to the door. Next, she used my head to slam the door shut. I was then 
dragged back to the living room. She released my arm and pulled my head up. Before 
I had time to react I felt her fist connect with my gut. She then brought her knee up 
and forcefully pushed my head down. "ARRRGHHH!" I screamed.  My face had 
unmistakably met her knee.

She dropped my hapless form to the ground and menacingly looked at my two 
friends.

"One of you two better turn off that stereo!"

Both of them unconsciously stumbled towards it and luckily one of them managed to 
turn it off.

"Now, have a seat and watch me kick the shit out of your friend. If you want to try 
and save him, well, give it a try…."

She menacingly shouted as she went into a double bicep pose.

"Either of you have the balls to go up against these babies!"

Without waiting for an answer she turned her attention to me. 

"What's this a little blood!"

As she was looking down at me she noticed that some of my blood had stained her 
sweat pants.

"Your gonna pay boy!"

When I heard this I began uncontrollably crying. I was already severely beaten and 
she wasn't even done.

Instead of yanking me up again she straddled me put my weak arms underneath her 
knees and commenced punching my face. Stinging blow after blow connected with 
my face. Her hard knuckles happily feasted on my already disfigured facial features.
Mercy was not on the horizon. I hand wronged her and now she was punishing me for 
my behavior.  

She got off of me and watched as I coughed up chunks of blood. This did not stir any 
feelings of mercy or regret within her. Conversely, she grabbed my head and stuffed it 
between her powerful thighs. She began mercilessly squeezing my head to a point 
where my tears almost stopped flowing due to the extreme pressure, which I was 
about to pass out from.

She abruptly released me and my face plummeted to the ground. 

Amidst my pain and agony I heard her husky voice, "Boy, it's time for some calve 
raises. Pull your pathetic head up and place it between my calves!"

I tried to oblige, as quickly as possible and to my surprise I was able to lift my head 
just high enough for it to be enveloped by her unyielding calves. 

"All right you two… starting counting!"

I lost count after the second raise. With every raise I would experience an 
excruciating pain oozing through my temples and within a fraction of a second 
engulfing my entire head. Therefore, counting how many times this was happening to 
my head was the last thing on my mind.

As my head hit the ground I heard her talking to my two friends, "If you two ever 
come by here again I better not here a peep out of you, heck, I better not even here 
you knocking on the door. Now get your sorry asses up and go home!"

She yanked me up by the collar and slammed me against the wall once again. This 
time she released my collar and shoved her muscular forearm into my throat. This was 
followed by several powerful blows to my gut and sides. To top all this off she 
allowed her fist to explode into my groin twice.  When she released me I fell directly 
on top of a coffee table, breaking it into pieces.

As I was uncontrollably shaking and crying I noticed two figures scurrying out of the 
living room. I was left alone with this unmerciful woman. 

Ms. Simmons pulled me up by the upper arms and leaned me against the wall, yet 
again. 

"I heard you telling your friends to turn down the music, but they're not my problem, 
you rent this apartment so your responsible for what goes on in here. Besides you 
need to learn how to stand up for yourself. This beating is sure gonna knock some 
sense into you. If it doesn't well I'll happily administer another one!"

She let go of my left arm and hit me with a relentless upper cut that knocked me out.

The next morning I dragged my aching body to the bathroom where I cleaned myself 
up a bit. Afterwards, I decided to go to a doctor. My throbbing face and aching body 
couldn't hold up any longer.

As I was about to crawl out the door I noticed a note taped to it. It was from Ms. 
Simmons.   IF YOU NEED TO SEE A DOCTOR, COME TO ME FIRST!

I crawled to her apartment and knocked on the door, no answer. I knew the best thing 
for me would be to wait so I helplessly slumped next the door and waited, probably 
for an hour. Then I saw her jogging up the stairs. She looked at me and menacingly 
smiled. She then proceeded to pick me up in her lean taut arms, the same arms that 
had beaten me into oblivion the night before. Today they looked even more 
intimidating, sinewy, threatening, and ominously bulging.  She then carried me to her 
car and subsequently to a doctor.