 City apartments are rough. My first two places were both basements because that's what you can afford these days if you're looking to live alone. Third place, no lie, had a window facing a brick wall only three feet away. I was never looking for a spectacular view. I just wanted a decent window. Until last month, when I got one, I moved in December 1st to this super small but super decent apartment, only a few minute walk from the subway. The main living space extended from the kitchen and a flimsy sliding door separated that from a small bedroom space and the east wall of that bedroom space, a floor to ceiling window. Sure, it only overlooked the dirty street ahead, a small coffee place and a huge community housing building, but my God, the air, the sounds, the sunlight, it was perfect and so shockingly affordable. I'll make a note here that I've never been much of a horror movie person just never caught my interest. So when I couldn't find any bug reports on the building, it just seemed like a lucky break. Anyway, after settling my debt with my moving helpers, a six pack of beer and a large pizza, obviously, they were off on their way and I began putting together my home. I started with the Wi-Fi and living space so I could work to some tunes, then unbox some stuff from the kitchen. As I was sliding some plates into my cupboard, a knock came at my door. Shit, maybe my music was too loud. Standing on the other side of the door was a small woman wearing a hijab. I smiled apologetically. Sorry, is the music too loud? No, no, it's fine. The walls here are good. She assured me. I wanted to say hello. Welcome you to the building. Oh, I replied. I hadn't expected such a warm reception, I thought. I'd never been greeted by a neighbor in any of my previous places. Well, thank you so much. I'm Lewis. She shook my hand. I'm Kibla. Nice to meet you. She peered into my apartment. This looks good. Do you need curtains? I can give you some. I have extra. Thanks, but I'll get around to it. I'm excited to get some December sunlight coming through. I said with a laugh. She didn't laugh. It is no problem. They are lovely curtains, and you need your privacy. She said. I chuckled, feeling some tension in the air. I'll make sure to get some curtains up soon. In the meantime, I'll hide all this. I gestured to my lackluster physique under wraps. Again, no reaction from my neighbor. A moment later, she forced a small laugh, then nodded. If you need anything, I'm down the hall, 1710. She nodded once more before turning away and retreating down the hall. I waved as I watched her go. Nice lady. A little odd though, which brings us to my first night. Dark hit hard and fast, but there were a couple of yellowed street lights bathing the street in parking lot outside the closed coffee shop and the man that was yelling. It started just as I was laying down on my bed, a senseless hollering strings of profanity mixed with accusations at no one. But I'm not new to the city. I was near community housing, a place where folks with severe mental illness can very much end up. So above all else, I knew to be patient. Maybe this was why the place costs so little. It would have to be pretty extreme for that much of a price decrease. This set me on edge. After about an hour of the noise ebbing and flowing, I brought myself up and out of bed into the window. I looked out over the cold street and watched the snow get caught up in gusts and brought to the man. He walked in jerky circles, flailing his limbs from time to time. I touched the cold glass. At that moment, he spun around and faced me as if he could hear that barest touch. He froze, no more noise, no more circles. He just stared back up at me. He couldn't have been staring at me. I was standing in a dark room, alone, 17 stories up. But from everything I could tell, he was standing in that parking lot, leaning at the slightest angle, head cocked right up at me. This wasn't good. I took a step backwards, still watching him. The moment I moved, he broke into a dead sprint. He was running directly at me. My heart leapt. But I was inside. There were many locked doors between myself and him. It was fine. That didn't stop me from running to my apartment door and triple checking it was indeed still locked and then watching my apartment door from my kitchen table, then watching the street from my window to see if I could see him again, then the kitchen, then the window. It wasn't a great night. The next morning as I opened the door, it pushed against something. I full panicked for a moment, but immediately realized it was a bundled up window curtain with a note. The note read, For the nights they aren't people. They are cold, signed Kibla. This was unsettling for sure, but also on a different level, incredibly insulting. Was she talking about the community housing folk? They were sick, not not people. I let my indignant side overpower my anxiousness over all this and tossed the curtain inside and continued on my way. I got a doughnut and some bad brew at the coffee shop, found out that they operate from nine to five, which is an ideal for late night cravings, and headed off to work. Night two was much quieter. I didn't hear a sound above the passing night traffic as I laid down to sleep. This felt much more comforting. And then it wasn't. It was too damn quiet. There were other people in this building. There was the community housing just across the street. Why was it so quiet? I stood up again and wandered to the window. Nothing out of note there. No folks wandering the street. Only difference from the night before was one streetlight had started flickering. Maybe I was just getting in my head over all this. Then I saw the group on the balcony. Five people stood on a balcony of the community housing building, about five stories higher than myself. I couldn't entirely tell if they were speaking or anything from this far. But one thing was for sure. Each stood facing out, facing me, staring at me. I whispered some curse under my breath and immediately turned to grab that curtain near my front door. I stomped through my house, hoping the sound of my own movement would help me establish some sort of connection to reason. I was imagining things. I was getting worked up over nothing. But if the curtain would help me feel better, easy as that, let's get it up. I got back to my room just in time to see them jump. In unison, each of the five people on the balcony easily climbed over the rail and stepped off, still staring directly at me through my window. I dropped the curtain in terror and shouted a meaningless stop. I scrambled to find my phone and dialed 911 while I made a mad dash out of my apartment and into the elevator. Police and ambulance were on the way. As the elevator rang at ground floor, I ran out of my building and into the cold. And holy shit, was it cold. The biting night stung at my skin all over, seeing as I'd left wearing only my PJs and slippers. I ran across the quiet road and passed the shop to the building, dreading what I was going to see. They stood there. That's all. There were the five figures I'd seen only moments ago, plummeting from over 20 stories, stiffly but casually looking at me with blank eyes. Nothing seemed to be wrong with them physically. I saw no signs of injury. But behind those eyes, I couldn't tell what I was seeing. I walked closer to the building, scanning the area to see if I was wrong. If it was a different group of people, but only came back to them as sirens began blaring. They walked back inside. My mind was a mess. I felt like I was going crazy as the police talked with me. But I held my composure and assured them that my eyes must have been playing tricks on me in the night. The sirens retreated back into the city. I slammed my fist against Kibla's door the next day. It opened only a few inches, revealing a chain lock in her eyes. What the hell is going on? I asked. You didn't put up the curtain. She said, as if this was some normal irritation. How is a damn curtain going to stop people from jumping off buildings? I demanded. They can see well in the dark. They've noticed you. They won't hurt you, but they'll want to be close. She said as calmly as always. What do those people want? They aren't people and they want to be warm. I sputtered, wordless. How do you respond to that? Put the curtain up. It might not stop it anymore, but it'll give you peace of mind. Was all she said before closing her door again. So I did. I put up the curtain and started looking for another apartment. I didn't know what was going on, but I could stay here the two necessary months and head out without messing up my finances too bad. My last night, the curtains were drawn shut and my lights were all off, leaving me in pitch darkness. But there was no way I was getting to sleep. The past two days were running through my head on an endless loop. What was happening in that building with those people? They were people, right? A quiet noise caught my attention. Barely a noise, really, like the sound of a mouse squeaking in the wall. It would be nice to have normal issues like mice. The same sound, but slightly louder. I curled up in my bed. I didn't want to deal with anything tonight, but I also knew no sleep was coming if I didn't deal with whatever was causing this sound. I slumped out of bed and listened closely, tilting my head towards the wall. Silence. Maybe I should just attempt to sleep through it. A singular clicking noise, like hail falling against glass. There was a chance I was just hearing something coming from outside, and I was fine. Or far from fine. I remembered my neighbor's words. They won't hurt you. I shuffled towards the window. They want to be warm. I pulled the curtain aside. Darkness. No streetlight. No snow. Nothing. Just the same darkness as my room. I furrowed my brow, absolutely lost. I hit the switch on my lamp. Naked bodies stuck to the glass from the outside. Awfully contorted and piled bodies, all trying to touch as much of their flesh as possible to the glass dividing us. Their skin folded and flattened in still life before me with patches of hair and scars and disease. The various faces clouded the window with their heavy breath. Tongues and teeth pressed hard, almost like a suckerfish plastered and frozen in ecstasy. No, not suckerfish. More like maws. I screamed and fell back, holding down the bile trying to shoot up. I huddled into a fetal position, rolled away from the site before me, and I can only describe it as I lost my mind. I don't remember much until dawn came and I saw light piercing through my unmarred window. I left that day. I went to a friend's place and I stayed on their couch. My friends and a couple cousins I have here in the city had to get my belongings. They all think that I just had some sort of random psychological meltdown. It took me this long to get to the point where I'm even considering leaving this house and going back to work. I'm going to live with friends for a while, and if I do someday get a place again, I am fine with basements.