People aren't inherently quiet. I got neighbors upstairs who blast merengue and bachata every weekend until it's light blue outside, it worse on holidays, they chant. My next door neighbors are a family of five, I know this because I hear the squabbles of siblings almost every morning. Siblings don't really argue, they more or less talk and scream over each other until one of them is crying or until their mom steps in and slaps one of them or threatens to slap one of them. They also watch tv very loudly. Either cartoons or sports. When it's cartoons it's usually coupled with siblings and angry Mom. When it's sports you can hear Dad screaming his head off at the tv.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, touchdown!

Aaaauh! Fucking holding!

Shit! S H I T!

I feel kind of sorry for the mom.

When Luca lived here he didn't make a lot of noise. The thuds of his feet when he paced around in his room, the rolling of his chair, the creaking of his bed, a cough. There was a comfort to knowing when he was here. I loved that he didn't feel the need to bother me for anything, ever. But I also loved knowing that I wasn't alone in the apartment.

But for the entire month of March I was alone and I didn't even realize it. Now that I do it feels weird. Like my ears yearn to hear the ambient sounds of someone who won't bother me.

Maybe my ears look for it. Sometimes when I walk past his room, I think I hear him shuffling about. I try not to humor the thought, which reminds me that I still need to find a roommate before the month ends.

TV.

Music.

Memes.

Don't think about it.

Think about anything else.

I humor the thought anyway. What if these phantom sounds weren't phantom sounds and Luca was still doing his thing in his room. Whatever that might be. What if I knocked and Luca answered?

I knock.

“Yeah?”

I rip open the door and find nothing. A vacant room. The lights not even on. The closet door is closed. I remember this one story my friend told me about this one time someone broke into her house. Apparently the burglar was hiding in a closet for at least a day before her kid told her that she thought she heard someone breathing in the living room. I looked at the closet door and thought, someone is definitely hiding in that closet. I don't risk it, I leave my apartment and dial 911.

Two police men arrive and check the apartment. No signs of intrusion. Luca`s room was still empty, the window was still locked, a false alarm. So fucking embarrassing. People are coming out of their apartments wondering what the fuck is going on, who called the cops, why'd you call the cops? They're looking at me like I'm a ditsy clown who cried wolf. I don't know why I'm so worked up about it, maybe because I feel like it's not a false alarm. But what can I say and not sound like a ditsy clown who cried wolf?

I definitely heard someone.

Better safe than sorry.

Maybe I heard a ghost.

What else could I do? Red in the face, I thank the officers for their time, Ignore the people who are snickering at me and close the door. I go to Luca`s room and for the first time I actually look inside his room. I guess that isn't true, earlier today was the first time I've been inside his room. This was the first time I stepped inside it to see what it looked like. I knew it was spacious but I didn't realize how long the room was. It felt kind of like a hallway. Like if my room was Mario, short and well rounded, basic room. His room was Luigi, slightly longer and narrower, awkward but interesting. I look at the walls and see the oil mark outlines of the posters that were there before his family came and took everything. I see the scratches on the floor from his cheap mattress frame. I look inside the closest. Empty. I pace around in his room and imagine what it was like living in here. Cozy probably.

I turn off the light, leave his room and close the door behind me. It's late and I start getting ready for bed. I look at my emails and some new replies to the ad I sent out. Same old.

I look at my bank account. It looks like a pin number with two zeros in front of it. This suddenly makes me a little more conscious about the electricity I use because I start turning off all the lights in the house. In pitch blackness I start to make my way to the bed. I stop when I notice a light coming out from under the threshold of Luca`s door.

I open the door and the room is pitch black. It feels like looking into a long yawning tunnel or like an abyss. I turn on the lights. Everything is as it was. I close the door again and the light from underneath his door dapple over my toes. I can see my feet as clear as day and the shadows cast behind them.

I hear the creaking of a bed.

I hear the thuds of feet falling on hardwood floors.

I see the casting of two shadows from underneath the door.

Hello?