I live on the bottom floor of an apartment. Our units aren’t bad, but there can be some bleed-through, especially with heavy things like heavy stomping and footsteps, shifting things around, etc. I’ve been here a few months and I’ve mostly gotten used to the various things that come from the apartments above me.

The apartment above me has been vacant for a while, and we just got new tenants, so they’ve been moving in over the last couple of days. Again, I’ve mostly been ignoring them. But the other day, I was folding laundry and watching a movie in my living room.

I was watching Alien, a movie I’ve seen many times and haven’t been really scared of since the first time I saw it. However, I will acknowledge that I will occasionally jump at certain points, if I’ve tuned the movie out for any reason. 

I was watching the movie and I had tuned it out as I folded my laundry. In timing that I’m guessing rarely happens in real life, the movie was coming up to the scene with Dallas running into the Xenomorph in the ducts… right as the new people dropped something fairly heavy pretty much right above my head.

I will admit that I screamed and dropped the laundry I was holding. Then, I laughed at myself when I realized what had happened.

I got married to my first husband very young, and after only a few months, we discovered that getting married was a huge mistake. We had a very amicable divorce and parted friends. We didn’t stay in touch, but our parents did, so we often heard about what was going on in each other’s lives.

Time passed, and I married again. My second husband and I had a little girl, and we gave her a sister two years later.

I get the following phone call about a month after giving birth the second time. It has probably been six years or more since my ex and I last spoke.

Ex: “Hi, [My Name]! How are you?”

Me: “[Ex]! It’s been so long! I’m fine; thanks for asking. How are you?”

I honestly think he called to catch up and perhaps congratulate me on the new baby.

Ex: “Things couldn’t be better for me. Your parents probably heard from mine that I’m now involved in [Pyramid Scheme]?”

He doesn’t call it a pyramid scheme, of course. It is a vitamin company which is — if you believe the hype — going to be responsible for the human race staying in the peak of health for decades and living to be 120.

Me: “Yes, I heard that.”

Ex: “Let me tell you all about it. These vitamins are the best thing ever, and—”

Me: “Uh, let me stop you right there. I’m not interested in buying any vitamins.”

Ex: “Oh, that’s not why I’m calling. I have a business proposition for you and [Second Husband] which you’d be crazy to turn down.”

Me: “No, thanks.”

Ex: “Don’t say no right away. You haven’t heard about it—”

Me: “Look, [Ex], I’m not interested in anything to do with that company, so please don’t waste your time.”

Ex: “…”

Me: “But anyway, enough about that. What’s new? How’s the family?”

How pathetic is that? I still think that he called for a friendly chat, not a sales pitch.

Ex: *Hurriedly* “Oh, they’re fine, but I really have to go. Nice talking to you, [My Name].” *Click*

And that was that. I couldn’t help but be saddened that the sweet young man who’d once promised to love me for all time had turned into a sleazy salesman, but that’s life, I guess. I never heard from him again.

I am facing some difficulties during breakfast.

Me: “Mom, we have to buy another toaster.”

Mom: “That one’s still good!”

Me: “Oh, come on! It’s old! It makes weird noises, the springs are blown to h***, and it doesn’t even toast anymore!”

Mom: “It’s not that old.”

Me: “Mom, when you bought this toaster, the original Jumanji was still in theatres. I think it’s about time we get a new one.”

I’m about seven years old in this story. As I’m getting off the school bus, a random dog decides he wants to follow me. I try shooing him off, but he just refuses to go away. Not really knowing what to do, and worrying about what might happen if this dog sees my cat, I decide to try and get my dad’s attention in the hopes that he’ll know what to do.

Our house has a screen door just outside the front door, so rather than risk letting the dog inside, I bang on the screen door as loud as I can. My dad opens the front door and I tell him, “We have a problem.”

Before I can say anything else, he opens the screen door to see what the “problem” is. Naturally, our cat is literally right behind him.

The dog immediately chases our cat through the kitchen, into the living room, up over the couch, and back into the kitchen. Dad grabs some of his fireplace tools and uses them to haul the dog back out the door, while our poor cat bolts upstairs. After he’s gotten the door shut again, I quietly point out that there was a reason I hadn’t opened the door.

We didn’t see our cat until sometime the next day; judging by the soot on her fur she’d somehow hidden herself in the attic through the night. Can’t blame her, honestly.

This happens after my younger brother’s first day in primary school. He comes back crying and is rather inconsolable. My younger sister and I eventually manage to calm him down enough to explain.

Brother: “The music rooms are haunted! [Classmate #1] and [Classmate #2] went in and never returned!”

As he starts panicking again, my sister and I look at each other and start laughing as one. We are so relieved that it isn’t bullying or anything of the sort. Our younger brother finally stops crying when he sees us laugh.

Brother: “Don’t laugh! It’s true! There’s a ghost in there! A girl went in and never returned, so she now attacks the living!”

Sister: “I know! I’m the ghost!”

My brother makes a “WTF” face.

Me: “It was all a big prank. I’ll explain it to you.”

Basically, the music room corridor is always pitch black and scary. So, one day, a certain prefect decides to use it to prank the new primary one students. During the school tour on day one, the students are guided down that corridor, one class at a time. The lights are turned off, and the guiding prefect starts telling the ghost story to the class. When they are distracted, older students hidden in the music rooms grab pre-informed volunteers from the class, typically their younger siblings, and pull them into the music room. Then, when they leave the corridor, the guiding prefect makes a big show about the missing students, pretending it is the ghost kidnapping them.

Brother: “So, you mean…”

Sister: “Yup, your classmates are fine. Man, I can’t believe that they’re still doing this.”

Me: “Yeah, it’s been a decade since [Older Sister] came up with that prank.”

Brother: “What?”

Sister: “[Older Sister] was the prefect that schemed the prank. My class was the very first to be pranked. [My Name] pulled me into the music room while [Older Sister] led my class down the hallway. That’s why I’m the original ghost.”

Me: “Ah, that was nostalgic. Can’t believe we started a school tradition with our prank.”

Brother: *Indignantly* “And why did none of you tell me that?!”

Me: ”It’s literally been a decade since [Sister] was primary one. We all forgot.”

I don’t think he ever forgave us for that traumatic experience. In our defence, how were we supposed to remember a prank that we schemed before he was even born? We didn’t expect it to last long after we left, much less become a school tradition.