Back in October 2009, we got new neighbors above us. From the beginning Boyfriend and I thought they were strange. Since 2009, they're hardly--if ever--gone from the apartment at the same time. Someone is always home and someone is always awake. We know this because they are always banging around up there. Morning, noon and night, they are making noise. I've decided that they play pool in the room above my bedroom and bowl in their kitchen. They never open their blinds and they never use lights. Seriously. Drive by at any time and you will never see lights on in the Creepertons' apartment. When they leave, it's only for short periods of time and it's very very rare that they go somewhere together. If they go somewhere together, they're gone for about 5 minutes. We have no idea what on Earth they could possibly do to earn money except maybe they use the insurance they got when they killed their father/husband. To further compound the creepiness--we cannot tell just what their relationship might be. It's pretty obvious that Boyfriend and I are dating and we live together. It's obvious that the nice couple who live behind us are an older married couple. Across from them was a younger couple--we think married. Across from us is a man who sometimes has his daughter and has recently gotten married to New Woman. Above us though? We don't know if they date, if they're siblings, or if they're mother/son. I know that doesn't sound weird when you think about it once. But really think--have you ever not been able to tell even remotely if someone COULD be mom/sister/girlfriend/wife? They're creepy and I think the woman is genetically altered somehow because she is in no way normal-looking. I thought she had Down syndrome at one point, but she's not cute enough and quite frankly, too much of a bitch. I know, you hate me now. But really, at least Mr. Creeperton smiles and nods, Bitch Creeperton never even attempts to make eye contact. She just likes to complain about our music and call the police when we are watching the Oscars. Suffice to say, the sight of about 10 people dressed to the nines (girls in sequined/bridesmaid dress and dudes in suits) sitting on the couch watching the Oscars while a police officer stands on the red carpet outside our door actually telling us he doesn't know why he was called here was hilarious. I'm not lying; that's a story for another time.
Last week, Boyfriend noticed what looked like moisture in the ceiling. He texted me about it, but I thought little of it because our ceiling has stains anyway. How is our ceiling stained? I haven't the foggiest. Those older stains actually have a reddish tint, but are not food-related and I really think they're blood stains that have seeped through the Creepertons' floor. Anyway. By later that evening, I had forgotten all about this.
Fast forward to early this morning. At 1:30 this morning, I was awakened from a lovely dream to Boyfriend asking what the emergency maintenance number was because our ceiling was falling. That's quite an awakening at 1:30 in the morning, especially when you were so joyful to be getting into bed at 10:00 a.m. like normal adults who just might get enough sleep. Alas, I had to get up to see our caving ceiling. In that aforementioned moisture spot was now what appeared to be a drywall vagina in our ceiling dripping water into a puddle on our carpet. No really, that's the best way to describe it. It wasn't a hole per se, but the ceiling was peeled back on either side and...ok, just trust me. Boyfriend looked up the emergency number and I went back to bed. Fifteen minutes later, I hear banging and get up to see maintenance guy standing on my kitchen counter, banging a hole into my ceiling (and water still dripping). He named a few things it could be and said it should be okay to last until he could come back around 9:00 a.m. today. At 8:30 this morning, Boyfriend calls to say moisture line has extended into our kitchen and now there is water dripping from our kitchen light fixture--what every renter loves to hear! Maintenance says they are going to get the key to the apartment above us because it sounds like maybe it could be coming from their AC unit.
Maintenance visits upstairs. Asks if they have any water lying around and Mr. Creeperton says they do not. Maintenance guy asks if they have noticed anything that could be weird. Mr. Creeperton says that their AC froze up last week. When asked why they were running their AC at all, Mr. C says, "Well it's been getting up to over 55!" Apparently 55 is the magic temperature where the Creepertons fear the bodies they have hidden up there begin to decompose. Clearly they couldn't call anyone about their AC because running it in February when the temps have been reaching a scorching sixty degrees (that's Fahrenheit, not Celsius or Kelvin or anything else) is just weird and too many red flags would be raised. It also means that outsiders might have to come in the apartment and we can't have that, lest they see that all of the light bulbs have been removed and there are people pieces in various dark places.
So maintenance comes back downstairs and makes a hole in our ceiling big enough to fit a man's head in. Turns out, the hole was made so that a man could stick his head in. Said man looks around and locates the leak, which is clearly coming from the apartment above us, in the general direction of their kitchen. Workers must now go back upstairs to do more investigative work because they should most definitely have some water lying around if that much was coming into our ceiling and onto our floorS. When they go upstairs, they find that Creepertons' sink has been leaking so much that the cabinets are rotted out at the bottom. This sink has leaked so much that it rotted through cabinets, still had to travel 6-8 inches to reach their floor, saturate the floor and into that magical space between their floor and our ceiling, then saturate our ceiling and begin to drip in our living room AND kitchen--in 2 completely separate places. The damage was so bad, maintenance had to cut open the counter in multiple places, including removing an entire corner. How do you not notice that?!
Oh I know--you DO notice that but choose not to report it because outsiders might have to come in your apartment and they might just discover the human heads in the freezer that fall out every now and then and sound like bowling balls hitting the floor.
Maintenance did not expect to see such a show upstairs and had to leave to get more supplies. As soon as maintenance leaves, Mr. C leaves with a black trash bag. Who uses black trash bags for their kitchen? You know who uses black trash bags? Contractors, carpenters, lawn guys, and serial killers. Mr. C has not yet returned. He's NEVER gone this long.
We are going to have a hole in our ceiling until Thursday because it needs to dry out up there. Lord only knows what they have to do upstairs, but whatever it is, I'm sure the Creepertons are moving the body parts out of the apartment ahead of time. Boyfriend actually texted a little while ago to inform me that the other car has not returned, but he hears what sounds like shuffling and DRAGGING above him. There's cleaning to be done, obviously!
I'm fearful and told Boyfriend to hide our cats. Serial killers love killing cats. And people. They love killing cats and people and our apartment has both, and we have now put a spotlight on them, thus all but ensuring that we've stolen the focus from the next intended victim(s) and put it squarely on ourselves. We may have saved lives (though in all likelihood, killed ourselves). You're welcome, previous targets.
1:04 p.m. update: Mr. Creeperton HAS returned, but did it creepily. Boyfriend didn't notice his return. What he DID notice, however, was that Mr. C. is leaving with ANOTHER black trash bag! Actually, he's walked outside and put the trash bag in his truck and is just sitting there. Boyfriend looked out of the blinds and Mr. Creeperton was staring at him! Dude sat in his car for entire minutes after that. When he finally did drive away, he drove AWAY from the trash compactor. But why? Clearly he was going to the county landfill, where there is much more trash and much less likelihood that his disposed body parts will be located. Even if they are, there's no telling from where they came. There's just too much risk in dropping them off at the apartment complex trash site.
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