Donald slammed the door to his apartment building, and he decided to take the stairs to his 11th floor apartment. As he walked up the stairs he tried to sort everything out in his head:

“What the hell?! What is this Doctor Jekyll crap? That homeless nut should be in jail! How did he know about the money? Was he listening to Julia and me talking? I can’t sleep. I can’t risk this being true. I am not a killer!”

“Hi Don,” Clara, his neighbor from down the hall, said as she came down the stairs with a laundry bag slung over her shoulder.

Donald wouldn’t have noticed any attempt at simple civility with all the gears in this mind being occupied, but Clara was undoubtedly one of the sexiest women he had ever met. It wasn’t that she had amazing breasts, a firm behind, and soft, olive skin. It was that she loved being outdoors, she spoke her mind intelligently, and she didn’t flaunt the fact that she had amazing breasts, a firm behind, and soft, olive skin.

“Hi. Hello Clara.” He managed to say before she was half a flight down.

She stopped and turned back, “Hey Don.”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t we have sex sometime?”

Under normal circumstances, this would have been an excellent opportunity for Donald to joke with her as only a few people she knew could, which ultimately could have led to sex, but Donald was too distracted by the possibility of being a sleep walking, psychopath killer, “Yeah… sounds good!” He shouted down as he kept walking up to his floor.

“Great! Can’t wait!” She shouted back as if they just agreed to go to the farmers’ market.

*****

Kitty, Donald’s cat, always waits for him by the apartment door. This time it was unfortunate. Donald unusually slid his key into the door, unlocked it, and opened it in one swift motion. The door slammed against the wall in the same instant a loud screech came from Kitty. Donald, used to doing this once a month or so, didn’t notice her, and he went straight into the bathroom.

After splashing water on his face enough to require a change of clothes, Donald took his shirt off and sat at the edge of his bed. He vaguely looked out the window. The fairly unobstructed view of the city skyline was the main reason he decided to rent the apartment, but this time all he could see was the afternoon twilight coming.

“I have to stay awake,” he muttered to himself like some kind of mantra. “Stop! Think!”

He stood up, “I need to act like I’m sleep walking. I need to find out what that gruff man is up to. I must find…” Donald’s moment of determination was interrupted by moaning that sounded like an animal in pain.

“Oh my God, Kitty!” Donald raced to her side as she lay on the floor waving a limp paw in the air. “Oh no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He ran back into the bedroom to dig her carrier from the back of his closet. He wrestle it out from under two weeks’ worth of laundry before the door bell rang.

“Who could that be?” He asked himself as he ran back over to the door to look out the peep hole. It was Clara. Donald paused to think whether or not to open the door. The door bell rang again, followed by her muffled voice coming through the door, “This is the one time Don.”

After putting his best gameface on, he opened the door, “One time? I imagined at least three.”

“Imagined? So you have been thinking of me.”

“How could I not with all your weekend parties?”

“Oh, you know how…” Clara noticed Kitty, “Oh! Poor Kitty, you hurt?”

“I have to get her to the vet. I think she’s really hurt.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Donald simply nodded, and they gently managed to get Kitty into the carrier.

Donald found Clara to be a relief from his concern, and he did his best to enjoy their non-sensical conversation in the elevator.

Upon reaching the front door he opened it for her with his free hand, and said in a very civil tone, “After you madam.”

“Oh, why thank you kind sir,” She said in a British accent.

They walked down the street, Clara carrying most of the conversation talking about her mother, and how she uses her health to guilt Clara into doing more with her life.

Donald listened, and sympathized with her family issue, “My Mom’s the same way.”

“No she isn’t.”

“Not literally, but she always has to say the same five minute schpeel about how she did everything for me, and she never took time for herself.”

“Exactly!” Clara exclaimed as she went back to exemplifying her mother’s parental style.

Donald gave her his ear again, but he was distracted by the thought that the gruff man could be watching them, that the gruff man could lurking behind them, that the gruff man would point to Clara as the ‘her’ he was talking about. Then the thought of Clara being a victim of his possible sleep walking, psychotic killing brought Donald to a halt, “Clara, don’t talk to me anymore.”

“My mother isn’t that boring. Is she?”

“It’s not your mother. Just… please don’t talk to me anymore. You have better things to do than to hang out with me.”

“That’s just your opinion,” she said thinking he was being oddly playful.

“No. That’s just the way it is. Now please don’t make this hard on me, but I think it’s best if you just lived your life, and I lived mine.

At a loss of words, “Well, then I guess we’re done here.”

“Yes, we’re done. Don’t open your door for me either.”

“Donald, I find this rather silly.”

“Me too. Now get lost you slut!”

“What did you call me?”

“I… I called you a slut.”

“You think I’m…”

“…a slut. Yes. You’re too loose for me. So just don’t talk to me anymore.”

Clara dumbfounded by Donald’s hurtful tone, “Fine. I won’t bother you.”

As Clara began to walk away Donald tacked on, “And don’t open your door for me either!”

“I won’t,” Clara said not looking back.

“You greasy, gruff bastard!” Donald said to himself as he started walking to the animal hospital.