night and day [h.s]

four

                 

On the subway, twenty minutes late to work, he wondered what neighbor 202 looked like. Did they identify as male or female? Or neither? Or both? Were they tall or short? He imagined if they were male, they probably had similar interest. Now he could make an actual friend like he had been procrastinating to do these past months. It wasn't easy for Harry to actually talk to the people. His social need was fulfilled at work making the random people in New York bagels and sweets. Then he'd go back home and laugh with the celebrities that didn't hear him nor were talking to him on the TV. He was the only friend he had.

Or maybe it was a woman.

It couldn't be.

But it could because the features of the hooded person coming up the stairs of 202 were feminine. The black pants they wore clung to the curve of their thighs and ass as they hopped up the stairs. He didn't mean to look but he did and now he couldn't help but think about them. He wondered if she was struggling to survive in the city. Maybe that's why she took the apartment or if she were some poetic girl. Living with flowers in her hair and crystals in her eyes. She wouldn't have a care in the world and yet appear flawless everyday, despite low income. That dream wasn't real. It was never.

But he could imagine.
So he pictured neighbor 202, playing the colorful music at all hours of the morning, humming with a voice as sweet as nectarines and light as a feather. He pictured her with golden straw-like hair flowing down her pale skin. He pictured neighbor 202 sucking in the smoke from his pipe in his apartment, her pretty pink virgin lips wrapping around the pipe and more. He pictured her crystal eyes rimmed with red and they'd giggle the entire night long while she whispered poetry in his ear and make love on the sofa.

He imagined while behind a counter working at a shitty New York bakery hating his job and unshaven for two days because he wanted to pay rent this month.

Harry imagined a pink girl.

_____________

His mom always called at the worst times. She once decided to give Harry a ring when he was racing to get to work. He had a smart phone at the time and thanks to the craze of thinner phones while America evidently got fatter, he dropped it. Not only did it fall from the clutches of his hands, but it fell into the sewers to never be retrieved ever again. That phone was a lot of fucking money and he dropped it.

Harry was over smart phones once his iPhone 4 was gone. So he kept a small cheap phone that was good for calls and calls only. That's all he'd ever need. He didn't need social media or texting or video chats because no one was interested in his life why would he make an extra effort to get involved in theirs?

"What are you doing right now?"

"Um," Harry couldn't answer exactly what he was doing. His eyes were on bags of weed James just dropped off. He hadn't heard neighbor 202 in days. He was starting to believe the high he was on that day made up the beautiful lyrics in his head. He hadn't seen neighbor 202 yet either. She or he was just a figment of his imagination. Maybe no one really moved in at all.

"I'm fixing up some stuff right now mom, it's not a good time."

"It's never a good time. I'm going to work! I'm eating! I'm cleaning my house! Harry why don't you ever call?"

"We talked just last week mom. I'm a grown man and have a life."

"You will never be a grown man to me. You'll always be my little boy."

He sighed, shutting his eyes and closing off his emotions. "Gotta go mom."

"Always too busy to talk to his mother...my boy must have a good life going for him."

"Bye mom."

He hung up and tossed the cheap phone across the room.

He couldn't be disturbed anymore. He wanted to see colors and it was going to be neighbor 202 or this.

Harry didn't remember falling asleep in the middle of a show eating pizza but he had. Sauce and cheese stuck to his chin as his eyes opened to the blurry world. The buds were still on the coffee table ready for Harry to accept them into his blood stream.

But he had no need to.

He heard it. The blues and oranges and purples of the music the pink neighbor played next door. It filled his heavy translucent heart and he shut his eyes. It was like euphoria rushing through his brain and sweeping him away. God, he didn't even mind they played this shit at 2 in the morning when he had work at 8. It was so beautiful he could care less. It gave him emotion and motivation to do things.

The music wrapped around him like a blanket and carried him down the river of Eden. This was almost like a high and he laughed. He just spent $35 when he could hear all this for free. He loved it. He loved neighbor 202. Harry didn't even know them and he loved them.

"Oh my god I really am crazy," he whispered to himself.

This one he recognized.

He actually wasn't home to start but came stumbling around the corner a little bit drunk and a little bit high. This time the music wasn't so beautiful. It was slashed red thirsting for blood. Fury and fire burning down the door to take down everything else with it.

Although it wasn't beautiful it spoke to Harry directly so he loved it. Instead of putting the key in the lock, going inside his apartment, and dreaming of the person in 202; he listened. He listened to their obvious anger and pouring emotion, he realized what they were trying to do. He slid down the marked up-white wall and held the door, feeling the bass underneath his fingertips

Alcohol and drugs fucked him up in ways he didn't know and just a sip of it sent him into a world he didn't want to leave. The colors brightened here, people showed themselves, the vivid ideas and imagination never stopped. He felt a wall when he was sober that was impossible to climb but when he became intoxicated he grew and grew so he could step over that wall. Step over that wall and walk in the land of purple clouds, diamond skies, and hypnotizing grasses. It was soft in this land, it was weird in this land, and it was everything his fucked up mind could imagine.

Who was neighbor 202?

He raised his fist to knock but the little part of his mind spoke up. It informed him he was on the floor in the hallway at 2 am, about to knock on an unfriendly neighbor's door. Sure they could be up, but who knew who they were. They could be anyone and here Harry was about to ask them to invite them into their world.

He was fucked up. Too fucked up to know yet another person. Too fucked up to be dragged into someone's storyline.

Harry turned away from 202 and crawled over to 201, unlocking the door and pulling himself inside.

So fucked up.

happy new year!

comment and vote or whatever on this story, I'm actually really excited for this one but don't really want to update if like 2 people are reading lol so share if you can