I Can See Clearly

The new neighbor flashes a smile. Yellow teeth intersperses between thin lips. Peach fuzz paints a thin mustache. Most girls would fall for a face like his, at least until he smiles, but something doesn’t seem right. At first I think one of his eyes is lower than the other, but the illusion wears off when he stops beaming. There’s something about the way he looks at me. I recall seeing that same stare when I was a child and I didn’t know any better than to hold the lion’s steady gaze at the zoo.


The guy brushes his black hair off his left eyebrow and says, “Howdy neighbor. I’m Ben,” extending his right hand. I don’t take it, concerned about the red stuff on his fingers. He chuckles, “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s ketchup.”


“I’m Morgan.” I leave him at his apartment door, alone with his stupid grin. I sense his stare penetrate my backside as I ascend the stairs. My internal evil detector works well.


Upon entering my studio apartment, thoughts of my ability to see people for what they truly are allows me to focus on my purpose in life. Ben lives in apartment 1A. He probably fools everyone else, but I know that on the first full moon he’ll turn into a werewolf.


I go to my nightstand and load regular bullets into my .38 caliber revolver. I’ve dealt with his kind before. The whole killing them with silver bullets is a myth. My attention deviates toward whimpers originating from the bathroom. I unlock the door and enter pointing the weapon.


The shower curtain is ripped off its aluminum pole. “Good morning Cassie.”


My neighbor from apartment 3B remains partially covered with the plastic curtain. Wide, brown eyes full of tears blink at a furious rate. I think about stripping the duct tape off her mouth, but I worry she might cast a spell.


I grin, “Cassie, you really shouldn’t have made that doll.” She had told me a lame story about it being a Barbie, but like me, it has red hair. My grandmother taught me that nothing’s a coincidence.


I turn on the water faucet, plugging the drain. “Is it true that in the old days they drowned witches?”


She whimpers, squirming in the tub, trying her best to slither out of her restraints. “Guess what Cassie? We have a new neighbor. He’s a werewolf.”


The evil witch pleads with her eyes. I check my watch. “Oh my goodness, there’s only an hour left before sundown. I have to go next door to your boyfriend Carl’s apartment before he wakes up. I never knew witches dated vampires.”


With gun in hand, I trot out of my apartment. I don’t have a wooden stake, but I am wearing a crucifix. Anyway, I believe a good old bullet through the heart will work just as well. I break into Carl’s place and am stunned to find him sleeping on a bed. I imagine coffins are too expensive, with the recession and all. Right then, I vow to get rid of the vermin in Washington as soon as I clean this place of evil monsters. It’s amazing how many people are blind to their surroundings, but not me. I can see clearly.


I guess it’s true what my grandma used to say. A woman’s work is never done.




- 560 words


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