The Crazy Neighbour

Every night, from the bottom right corner of the room, I have to put up with the fucking hysterical laughter of my psycho neighbour. As my grandmother told it, he lost his mind while he was serving time for murder. His mother moved out because he beat the shit out of her more than once. 3–4 times a week she visits him, brings him grub and so on. My grandmother is afraid of him, and to be honest, I try to steer clear of him too.

And the most fucked-up shit connected with him: one time I was coming home from the store, around 4 o'clock ±. Walking up to my door, I noticed that his door was open (in our stairwell our doors are positioned parallel to each other). That stressed me the fuck out, and I started opening my door at an accelerated pace. I went inside and started unpacking the grub I'd brought in the kitchen.

About 5 minutes later I hear the sound of a door closing in the stairwell and I go to check. I look through the peephole, and fear makes my legs give way: I see his door wide open and him, staring with a crazy look into my peephole. He stood like that for about 10–15 minutes and then went back to his place, locking the door.

Now I always try to check whether my door is locked or not. ;)