All Hope Lost (7 page)

I felt better for resting the
night, I must have exerted quite a bit of energy yesterday, or whatever it was
that held me together; that made me what I was. Steve was the first to appear
wearing nothing but his boxers, checked pattern. He sat down on the opposite
sofa to me, a hot steaming coffee in his hands. Carefully he placed it on a
coaster on the coffee table, and leaned back, stretching his muscular arms
above his head.
Who cares if I’m lookin; besides he can’t see me!?”
Michael
emerged moments later donned in a blue snuggly looking dressing gown and
slippers. He saw me first and waved a morning at me, and then to Steve, who
just grunted.
Definitely NOT a morning person
I mused.

Michael headed to the kitchen and came back with a coffee
almost immediately.
Coffee maker
I realised.
And a timed one, nice.

“So Sharon,” Michael began,” what’s on the agenda today?”

“I thought I would check out the other forum members; see
if I can help them with their problems too? What do you think?”

Michael nodded, hands clasped
around his mug of coffee. I sniffed the fumes. Mmmmm.
Shame I’m dead; I
would kill for a coffee right now!
I sighed inwardly. “Shame we can’t come
with you. Would be great to watch you in action.” He chuckled, as his mind
imagined various scenarios that were obviously amusing to him. I smiled shyly.
“But you can travel faster than us, and god knows where you’ll end up!” He
looked at me, eyes shining with amusement.

“What?” I made a serious face.

“Was just thinking, it’s a shame you’re a ghost, you seem
pretty cool, woulda been nice to have known you when you were alive.”

“Really?” I replied, surprise on my face.

“Course.” He nodded. “Most people are assholes now, can’t
even have a decent convo from half of em. My most engaging convos to date have
been with a dead chick!”

“OI” Steve made a hurt expression.

“I’m just kiddin’ dude!” Michael raised his hands palms
out.

Steve laughed, and tilted his head to him. “Made you feel
guilt!” And went back to his own thoughts.

Michael shook his head, as did
I. “You two are big kids really!” I exclaimed. Michael laughed. “That’s true”
and he sipped some coffee. “Let’s boot up the ol’ laptop then and see how much
mischief you can get into today!”

“Hey!” I made a hurt expression, echoing Steve. “Well,
ok, maybe a bit of mischief. But justice too!” I quickly added.

Michael raised an eyebrow, with an “I don’t believe you
for a second” look and hit the power button. Discs whirred into motion as the
Windows OS booted up. Logging in to the forums took mere seconds, and I started
scrolling through the new posts.

Panda’s Pandemonium

I noted a new post from Panda.
She has been living with neighbours from hell for more than a decade, being
fobbed off by her local council, the environmental health department, her MP.
She managed recently to get a house swap, but ended up going from the frying
pan, into the fire, even though she was told this new flat would be quiet.
I
scowled.
If you can’t rely on the authorities to help who can you turn too?
I grinned slowly.
Me.

Turning to Michael I spoke
quickly. “Ok, I know where I’m going next. Wish me luck!”

Michael nodded. “Good luck Sharon. Don’t wear yourself
out though before you can make it back!”

“I’ll try!” I replied and with a wave, I disappeared
inside the laptop, found the line to Panda’s message and followed it.

               
Zipping down the broadband line was a strange sensation, very tingly. I also
picked up on thousands of telephone calls, unable to distinguish between any
one conversation; it was like a million voices in my head all at once.
I
hope I won’t have to do this too often, it will send me crazy!
Reaching the
end of the line I hopped off at my destination. I took in the room I stood in.
Unpacked boxes still lined the walls but a TV, music system, sofa, small table,
and pc at a desk were crammed into the space. I walked over to the window where
there was a small balcony. Top floor flat, with a decent view of the communal
gardens and surrounding residential area.
Not bad.
I checked out the
rest of the flat.

There was a small kitchen,
basic, and in need of some TLC just like the living room, but it was clean. I
found one medium sized bedroom, again with unpacked boxes. It appeared she was
still living from her suitcase. I recall reading some of her posts, and that
she refused to unpack in this place as she was going to have to move again
because of the bed bugs and noisy neighbours.
Eww bed bugs
. I checked
out the bed. I couldn’t see the little mites, but I could sense them crawling
about. I made an involuntary shiver. Thinking about her posts, I remembered her
mentioning they had had a bug man come over and sprayed the mattress and floors
and walls. He had told her he thinks they were coming in from another flat, but
that also she had seen the street filled with mattresses.
Maybe the whole
area was infested. I should check it out.

I wandered out into the
communal hallway and followed the thumps and thuds of banging doors.
This
must be the neighbour that she mentioned bangs about a lot by slamming doors at
all hours.
I walked through their front door, which opened into a long
hallway, doors opening from either side. There was banging coming from the far
end so I went to investigate. Walking through the inner door at the end of the
hall, I entered a good sized kitchen. Units and appliances were arranged
pleasantly around the walls, with a family sized dining table in the middle. At
one end of the table sat a woman, reading a magazine, whilst a child sat on the
floor playing with his toy cars. The noise wasn’t coming from the child or the
lady, yet I could still hear the banging. Looking about I noticed the kitchen
window was slightly ajar. I took note and headed back down the hallway to the
other rooms. Sure enough, there was a window in each room apart from the
children’s, slightly open. In the master bedroom, the wardrobe door was opening
and closing in the through-wind.
Surely they can’t have these open all
night?
I wondered. I pulled the bedroom window to, and the wardrobe door
stilled.
And this wasn’t driving her mad?
I couldn’t fathom it.
That
would surely drive anyone nuts
!

               
As I headed back out to the next room, the woman at the table had taken note of
the silence, and was now heading back to the bedroom. I watched in disbelief as
she reopened the window and let the wardrobe door start banging again.
Was
she doing this on purpose? To deliberately make a noise to annoy the
neighbours?
As she left the bedroom I pulled the window closed again, and
the noise stopped. The woman appeared again, looked about the room and opened
the window again. This time she walked through me, which gave her an icy chill,
but even the cold wouldn’t dissuade her. Opening the window, she backed away
from it, watching it to make sure it was firmly open on the latch. Once she was
satisfied she headed back to the kitchen. THUD, THUD, the wardrobe door went. I
closed the window again. Silence.

               
This time, the woman came back, she didn’t look happy. She grabbed the window
handle and shoved it open as wide as possible. Locking it into place, she
brushed her hands down her jeans and flopped herself on the bed. She watched. I
waited. After a few minutes, she decided she had finally gotten the window to
stay open so she went back to the kitchen. I closed the window again. The woman
got up and ranted. “What the fuck is going on!?” she shouted. Her child started
to cry as she stormed back into the bedroom. She stood and stared at the
window, knowing full well that it wasn’t possible to have closed by itself this
time. I left her standing there confused and headed into the living area,
pulling both windows closed with a bang. She ran into the room and wide-eyed
realised these windows had now closed too. She headed into the kitchen to see
that window still open. I went over to it and pulled it shut with a thud. She
squealed, and grabbing the child, she ran back into the living room. She shut
the door and put the child on the floor, and opened the windows again.

I had followed her into the
room and was watching her. I knew she was getting spooked so I pulled the
windows closed again, her eyes widened, scared. Surprising me she once again
opened one of the windows, and stood before it, watching it, her brows creased.
“Come on then,” she spoke to the window, “close now, I dare ya.” I smiled and
left it alone until she stepped back and I took the moment to pull it shut,
fast and hard. She jumped backwards from shock, but now, determined to have a
window open; she pushed it open slowly and held it there, her arm out of the
window.
Interesting,
my mind was laughing maniacally. Reaching over, I
grabbed the handle and pulled into her opposing force. She was pushing back,
but I had much more strength than any human would ever have. The window slammed
shut, and bringing her arm to her quickly she brushed against me. I was
fascinated how my form made people so cold. I didn’t feel it myself, but it was
funny to watch these bullies, these inconsiderate assholes be affected by me,
by my justice. My lip curled upwards in one corner.
This woman is frightened
now.
I could see it in her larger than life eyes. She ran into the bedrooms
and grabbing a suitcase packed some clothes and belongings, grabbed the kid and
legged it out of the door. She didn’t even bother locking it, the front door
slamming shut behind her as she left the building. I laughed.

               
One noisy neighbour down, one to go.
Ah yes, Panda has two noisy
neighbours. One that slams doors all the time, and the other that has door
banging sessions and noisy evenings of screaming, arguing and loud music. I
headed downstairs to the first floor; the other noisy neighbour as far as I was
aware lived below her. Finding the flat in question I walked in. It was empty.
Everyone’s
out, maybe I should wait.
I had a quick scout about the flat, finding it
identical in layout to Panda’s upstairs, although the person who lived here,
wasn’t living out of boxes or suitcases, and had a large surround sound system
installed.  I decided to wait upstairs so I floated upwards through the
ceiling and back into Panda’s home. Walking over to the balcony, I peered out,
and was shocked to find a pair of eyes staring at me. It was a black and white
cat, fluffy tail, long hair, and a dainty pink collar.
Cute.
I pulled
the door to one side, and the cat came in. I remember Panda mentioning she had
a cat. I hoped this was her one!

               
Sitting down on the sofa, the cat jumped up beside me, curled up and
meowed.  I casually stroked it behind its ear, and it purred happily. I’m
not sure how long the cat and I were bonding for, but it was growing dark by
the time I heard the rattle of keys at the front door. The cat jumped off the
sofa and padded over to the kitchen, tail swishing side to side.
It knows
when its dinner time is
I mused lightly. A lady I presumed was Panda
entered the flat, making kissy noises to the cat.

“Hello Merlin, how did you get indoors?” she said,
dropping her things off on the table top.

Shit, I forgot about that.
I gave myself a mental
head slap.

The lady stopped for a moment,
and I recognised the nervous habit of listening for the nuisance neighbours. It
was currently quiet. I left her to get herself sorted out and descended back
downstairs. Nobody was home still, so I did some more snooping. In the kitchen
I found a cork board with vouchers, tokens and letters pinned up. One was
typed, and I recognised it to be the letter that ‘Panda’ had written regarding
them banging their doors.

“My Dear Neighbours,

This is difficult for me as I believed we were on good
terms, but I am wondering if in some way I have offended you, in which case I
would be pleased to try my best to rectify what it is I have unknowingly done.
I ask because the banging of your front door is becoming an awful disturbance
to me, it’s even knocking plaster off the cracks in my walls. Perhaps you are
unaware how disturbing it is. I know the side entry door is spring loaded, but
with both being banged it is causing me distress.

With warmest regards….”

The letter seemed friendly enough, but scrawled across it
in black marker pen, the word ‘BITCH’ had been scrawled across it.
Really?
Why on earth would someone take offense to that letter? Some people are just so
inconsiderate.

A bit more information on Panda’s neighbours from hell
that she had included in some of her posts:

Later that same day she had
posted the non-threatening  letter through her neighbours door, and even
spoke to the wife who lived there, her husband came upstairs and retaliated by
denying that they banged their doors, and asked her, why not talk to them about
it first before posting the letter. ‘Panda’ had replied, “Well why talk to you
if you are just going to deny it.” Then he stormed off and banged his door.

Of course, the man is now
constantly banging their front doors and windows as often as possible to
irritate her. ‘Panda’s’ friend came over and tried to talk with the bully
downstairs. He was assaulted by the bully, but when the police turned up, the
witnesses stuck on the bullies side, and her friend was arrested; the bully got
away with it. This tells us an important lesson. Don’t shout at your noisy
neighbour or YOU will be handcuffed and arrested, even if YOU are the VICTIM!