Irena
Irena is my neighbor... from Czechoslovakia. She moved in with her daughter, Patricia and was a friendly, quiet neighbor.
Two months later, I walked out and found an egg sitting on the stairs. Odd.
Another month or so later, I found more food set out, uneaten, as if waiting for a hungry passer-by. Funny thing is, I could never identify the food. It was always something pickled or packed in oil. One bowl of shriveled, black, oily _something_ still sits in the hallway leading to my door. I can’t bring myself to touch it. It’s been six months.
She began to wander. She always had some shredded foam-rubber crap in her hair. Her vacant stare became almost impossible to hold... it was so creepy. It was as if her eyes were fake.
A month later, her daughter disappeared. Then Irena decided to pay me a visit.
I was meeting friends, we were congregating at my house, I answered a knock. "Hello, Irena." She pushed her way in and stood in my living room for almost three hours. I had the strangest feeling that she was going to pee on my carpet. I can’t tell you why.
Finally, the police were called and she was ushered out and I never felt at ease at home again. She peeks as I come in and mutters at me as I leave. I fear fire and unidentified liquids around my door.