Samantha pulled out her keys and slid one in the lock. With a click and a turn of the knob, the apartment door opened. Samantha entered and Jason followed, but he stopped in the doorway and looked back. The boy was still staring at Jason, peering out from behind his mother’s legs. The woman released her lock and opened their door.
“Guh…Goodnight.” Jason’s sudden and awkward voice startled the woman. She regained composure quickly and nodded back. She pushed the boy firmly into her apartment and disappeared behind him, shutting the door and locking it with a click.
Inside the apartment, Samantha kicked off her shoes and put her bags down on the kitchen floor. She grabbed the antiseptic wipes and began wiping down their groceries. Jason stood staring at the door for a moment, then finally kicked off his shoes too. He joined Samantha in the kitchen and set his bags down beside hers.
“Good thing the eggs were in my bags,” she jabbed as she continued sanitizing the groceries. Jason joined in, still in a half daze, thinking everything over.
“Well? What the hell was that down there?” Samantha asked, tired of waiting for Jason to speak. Jason continued putting away sterile packages, but Sam had stopped wiping things. She was leaning against the stove, her arms crossed in front of her.
“It’s crazy,” he finally said.
“Try me,” Sam replied.
“I’ve seen them before.”
“Duh, Jay, they’re our neighbors.”
“No, not here.” He paused.
Samantha’s thin patience was palpable.
“Where, Jason?”
“At the clinic.”
CHAPTER 28
Samantha brewed some chamomile tea and set down a mug for each of them on the coffee table. She sat down beside Jason, who was staring past the dark television, out the window, and into the night sky. “This is a good thing,” Samantha finally said.
Jason turned to look at her, then grabbed his steaming mug and brought it to his lips. He tried a sip, but the hot liquid burned his lips, so he put the drink back down.
“It’s creepy as hell; that’s what it is.”
Jason looked back out the window sullenly.
“What are the chances?”
“Uh, I’d say pretty good, Jay. Considering you both are having sleeping problems, and you both live on the same floor in the same building.” Samantha paused. “Jason, we share walls with those people.” Samantha quickly quieted at this thought, remembering the times she found Jason pressed up against the wall, listening—a wall they shared with the strange little boy and his mother.
“Maybe the sound in the walls is messing with that little boy too, Jay.”
Jason continued to stare.
“We should go ask them if they hear it. If it bothers them too.”
Jason looked over at Sam with malice in his eyes.
“Are you dumb?”
Samantha recoiled.
“I’m not going over there asking about some sound in the walls, Sam. Of course they hear it; it’s loud as shit and never shuts. The fuck. UP!”
Jason leapt up and headed to one of the walls they shared with the apartment next door. He could feel the hum behind the paint and drywall. He pressed his fingertips against the flat surface and closed his eyes.
The vibration danced along his fingers, up his arms, and into his head. His jaw clenched and he ground his teeth. His face flushed and a single bead of sweat formed on his temple before dropping down the side of his face, leaving a salty trail.
Samantha watched him from the couch, then finally got up and went to Jason, putting her hand on his back.
“Jason,” she said calmly, “It’s a good thing because it means there is something wrong with this place, not with you.”
Jason shrugged her hand away and turned around. “If you want to leave so damn bad, just go.” His words were thick acid escaping from his mouth. Samantha stared into Jason’s eyes with her mouth open in stunned surprise. He stared back coldly, his eyes an angry blue ocean.
“Well?” he asked, unfazed by her hurt expression. “You’ve hated it since we got here. You haven’t even given it a chance!” Jason’s voice picked up volume. Samantha could only stare, barely recognizing the man in front of her.
“Wha—” Samantha began.
“Wha, wha, wha,” Jason interjected. “Wha, wha, whining bitch! That’s all you do. Fucking whine about everything instead of getting up and doing something. Your stupid puzzles and dumbass knitting. The fuck.”
Jason’s voice became harsher and harsher, his breathing labored. His eyes were wide and accusatory. Samantha’s face flushed and her eyes welled over.
“What the fuck Jason!?” she screamed.
Jason flinched in surprise. Samantha very rarely swore or raised her voice, but her rage only spurred Jason on.
He continued, “I have this great opportunity out here. I could be running this goddamn company one day! You don’t give a shit about that. Like you want me to fail? You want me to be a big fuck-up failure. That’s it, huh?”
“How dare you!” Samantha shot back. “I haven’t been there for you? Everything is about you, Jason! It’s always about your job, your opportunity, your office,” she continued, her voice ramping up. “It’s your fucked-up sleeping shit, Jason. That’s the reason everything is so fucked! I’ve been here, supporting you, trying to help. But you’re fucking losing it, Jay!” “Well! Sorry I have bullshit sleeping problems, Sam. It’s not like I asked for it! I didn’t ask God one day to fuck my sleep all up so I’d go fucking crazy! Jesus Christ, Sam. You’re so selfish!”
Samantha’s eyes widened and her face turned fierce. “Are you kidding me, Jason?” she hissed. “You must be kidding me. I’m in a mental institution right now.”
“What!?” Jason said indignantly.
Samantha paused to take a deep, shuddering breath. “You didn’t even ask me how MY appointment went, Jason. You didn’t even ask about the baby.” Jason’s eyes dropped to the floor. “That’s because it’s all about you, Jay. But you’re so
