Chapter 1

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I usually don't believe in things like karma, fate, or coincidences. There is no one out to get me. Nothing is going to come back and kick me in the butt because of something I did, did not do, said, or did not say. That's all just hocus pocus to me. Things happen. Things don't happen. It is as simple as that.

So when I found out who my new neighbor's were I didn't say, "Wow! What a coincidence," or, "Fate must have something in store for me." Those were not my thoughts at all. What I was thinking was more along the line of, "You've got to be kidding me!"

Let me explain...

I live in an over expensive apartment complex in downtown Baltimore. My rent is four times as much as my parents mortgage. But what do you expect when you refuse to live in the ghetto, on section-8, on the east side, or in something small and nasty?

My complex is nice. It's an eight story apartment building over a garage. There is security, a business room, a gym, a sky deck, things of that sort. I love it. Even if I have to slave all morning and afternoon at my job as a Psych Rehab Counselor for the University of Maryland psychiatry division, while going to school part-time twice a week. It's worth it.

Don't let the job title fool you. I recently graduated college and I'm new to my job, therefore, my salary is barely over 30 thousand. More than half of that goes to my apartment. I still have bills to pay, food, car note, tuition, and the list goes on. But I'm happy with my place, so I suffer in joy.

My previous neighbors were nice, an older couple. They decided to retire and travel the world, lucky, so they moved out. Maybe two weeks later, I'm not really keeping track, new neighbors moved in. They're a young couple. I can tell by the amount of arguing they do at all hours of the day. It isn't so bad really, and dare I say that I eavesdrop. Not like that's hard.

This morning, Warren, my not-really-boyfriend-best friend, surprises me with breakfast. I know, it sounds sweet, but it isn't. At least not to me. It is my first day off from work and school in weeks. My plans are to sleep the morning away. Something I haven't done in...forever. But Warren ruins that when he knocks on my door at 8am.

I slank out my bed to the door. I yank it open to find him standing there with a bag and two cups of coffee. "Hungry?" he says with a smile. No. I am not hungry. I'm not even woke yet. Not to mention, "I don't like breakfast, Warr." I say to him, my voice laced with sleep. A fact that he's known for over 5 years now.

He steps into my apartment. "You need to eat it more often. You could use the energy." Into the kitchen he goes and places the bag and cups on the table. It doesn't bother me how he freely moves about my apartment. As long as he stays out of my bedroom. Which he does. Most of the time. The sneak.

I follow him, ruffling my bedhead even more, my penguin slippers flip-flapping against the tile. "Then let me sleep," I say to him. "Sleeping energizes me."

"You'll have more energy if you eat properly, Shannon. I bet you didn't eat dinner until after midnight."

He is right, of course. But that's no secret. Everyone knows I have a weird eating schedule. Breakfast for me was lunch for others. My dinner is usually at times when normal people are asleep.

He pulls out two containers. Inside are omelette's, fried potatoes, and bacon. He pulls out another container that was full of mangoes. I scrunch my nose up at the platters. Eggs and my stomach did not get along. That's a fight I'm not willing to engage in. At least he got the mangoes right. They are my favorite.

He places the food onto plates, tossing their greasy containers in the trash bin. "I can't stay long. I have work today." He motions me to sit. Begrudgingly, I do. But I grab the container of fruit and a fork only. As good as the bacon and potatoes look, it was too heavy a meal for me to eat at this time. We sit in silence as we eat. More like, I sat in silence as I eat. Warren's talking. About what? I don't know. My thoughts are in their own little world.

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