Loreena was sitting on her bed putting on her running shoes when she noticed that she had left the door to her apartment open all night. She looked around for anything unusual—particularly any signs of anyone else in her apartment—and figured that since she had made it through the night safely, so had all of her stuff. She then left for her run and made sure to shut the door tightly behind her.
Little did she know that I had snuck into her apartment. I had been hiding in her closet all night and figured it would be best to wait there until she left in the morning. It was almost noon and I had started wondering if I had stumbled upon a recluse who slept all day. Finally having her out of the apartment, I decided to look around.
It was a fairly nice apartment I found myself in, and I couldn't help but think that Loreena would be a really great girl to snuggle with. She had the place decorated nicely, but it still seemed lived in; it was almost perfect.
As I was going through her refrigerator, thinking that I couldn’t bring myself to steal from this girl, I heard the door begin to unlock. In ran Loreena, heading straight for her bedroom. Apparently, she had forgotten something. She didn't see me on her way into the bedroom but on her way back out the door she spotted me and in a panicked jolt, dropped her portable CD player, which she had just come back for.
She started with the whole "don't hurt me, take whatever you want" speech and I couldn't help but find it cute.
"Sorry, I seem to have freaked you out. I snuck into your apartment last night seeing that your door was unlocked. I was planning on waiting until you left and then burgling you blind, but your belongings are so endearing I don't think I could’ve brought myself to do it—even if you hadn't come back." I said, honestly.
She looked at me as if there was no way in the world that she could possibly believe that she had been put in this situation. Since I had been kind with my speaking, she asked me, with equal kindness, to leave.
"I was kind of hoping my honesty might have gotten me somewhere and that maybe I could stay for a while...You know, get to know you."
Then came that look. The look that said "oh, you are one of those psychotic people who likes to get to know their victims and then cut off their nipples to make a belt." That look almost killed me.
The next hour was spent trying to gain some semblance of trust from her. Eventually she agreed to meet me for coffee later that day at Brewed Awakenings. I didn’t really expect her to follow through but, in keeping with the honesty and courtesy I had shown so far, I figured I should just leave her apartment and accept the possibility that I would not see her again.
Later that day, staring through the bay window that looks out on the front porch of Brewed Awakenings, I could barely contain my happiness when I saw her walking down the street. As she entered the coffee shop she threw me one suspicious glance, but seemed generally calm.
"I didn't know what you would like, so I just ordered you a good, old-fashioned cappuccino."
She told me that that was great and flashed me a genuine smile. I couldn't decide whether she was trying to appease someone she considered insane or if she was actually enjoying my company, but we had a wonderful time.
After we finished our coffee I asked if she wanted to go to the bookstore next door. She said that that would be wonderful. She then proceeded to put on her hat, wrap her scarf around her neck, and stand up to leave. When I neglected to move, she held out her hand to me. Taking her hand, I got up; to my surprise she didn't pull her hand back.
I spent the rest of the day in quite the enamored state of disbelief. It was impossible that she was simply trying to appease a crazy man; she was actually making advances.
After holding hands through the bookstore, we walked out into the cold and stood there for a while. She looked as if she were thinking deeply about something. After determining that there were no more excuses to keep her around, I said, "Thanks for trusting me enough to come here today. I had a great time. This was definitely worth waiting in your closet for nine hours."
She didn't laugh, as I had hoped she would. Instead, she continued thinking, still not pulling her hand away from mine.
After the long silence, she asked if I would like to come back to her apartment with her. In my astonishment I answered a bit too quickly that I would love to.
We walked back to her apartment slowly, still holding hands. I wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to happen at her apartment, but all intentions seemed good. There were no detectable sexual innuendoes, nor were there any detectable I-am-going-to-lure-you-back-to-my-appartment-and-get-you-back-for-trying-to-steal-from-me-you-bastard innuendoes.
Back at her apartment I helped her in the preparation of macaroni and cheese. Maneuvering around her kitchen I felt very at home. She seemed so comfortable with me. She almost seemed resigned to the fact that we were together, and that was all there ever was or ever would be.
We talked for hours and I couldn't help but dwell on the irony of being in the same apartment two consecutive nights in a row under such totally opposite circumstances.
We eventually fell asleep on the couch together. Everything was perfect.
Then I woke up.
She was not by my side, as she was when we had fallen asleep. In fact, I looked all around her charming apartment and she was nowhere to be seen. Walking back into her bedroom thinking that I could’ve missed her somewhere, I finally saw her out on her balcony. I was astonished by what I saw. It was snowing, the first snow of the year, and she was standing out there in her white robe looking up at the sky. It seemed as though she was saying something, but I couldn’t see her face. The full moon illuminating her form made her look like an angel. I couldn’t fathom how something could be so perfect.
Then she started moving towards the edge of the balcony, grabbing the railing and leaning over slightly to see the abandoned street below. Before I knew what had happened she had thrown herself over the edge of the balcony.
Running outside I almost didn’t believe that it could have happened. All I saw looking down was a blanket of white: the foot or so of snow blanketing the ground, her white robe, her blonde hair, her pale skin. There was no blood.
Standing upright and walking back into her apartment I called 911 and reported that I had just seen a woman throw herself from a 12th floor apartment. After hanging up the phone I walked around the apartment and collected as many things of value as I could and put them in my pockets.
Leaving the apartment, I headed for the nearest pawnshop.