Bryan and I have lived in our East Nashville house for a little over four months. It’s a duplex; we live downstairs, and there’s an apartment upstairs. When we moved in, we met the man who lived upstairs, “Nathan,” who was friendly enough, albeit quiet. But after we lived in our house for about a month, Nathan disappeared. One day, he was there, and the next, POOF! He was gone. However, though we knew he left (seemingly leaving all of his belongings behind, as we never saw a moving truck), we could tell there was still someone living upstairs. It took weeks for Bryan and me to actually get a glimpse of the occupant.
Turns out she’s a girl named, uhh, we’ll call her “Rhiannon,” and while she’s kind enough, I can’t help but feel like something strange is going on. After collecting evidence and hypothesizing for the past few months, I’ve concluded it’s likely that she is either a vampire or a witch. Only further analysis will reveal the truth.
Top 9 Reasons Why My Upstairs Neighbor is a Vampire or Witch
- Rhiannon never leaves the house during the daytime. Literally never. But she’s awake. I can hear her upstairs, moving around the apartment, turning the water off and on. All of her groceries get delivered to her doorstep, and she has not once checked her mail. Sometimes, when it piles up, I slide it under her front door for her.
- She never takes out her trash. Does she even produce trash?
- She’s awake during the day, but she also stays awake all night long. I hear her upstairs when I’m falling asleep. I hear her moving above me when I make a middle-of-the-night bathroom run. When I leave for the gym at 4:30 a.m., I can often see her eating a snack in her kitchen. SHE NEVER SLEEPS.
- She doesn’t have a car or bike. If she did leave the house, how would she even get around? Flying on a BROOM, perhaps?
- When my house is really quiet, I can hear her talking upstairs. Sure, she could be talking on the phone to a friend. Or she could be casting spells over a bubbling cauldron.
- She has two cats. BLACK cats.
- Every weekend, a young man in a dark car with tinted windows delivers something to her door. He’s the only person who has ever visited her apartment. He doesn’t have a Jimmy Johns sign on his car; he’s not carrying pizzas to her door. In fact, he never has anything visible in his hands. Yet, he only stays for a second, and there is a brief exchange of goods, which I know because I’ve started pressing my ear to the wall each time I see his car pull in the driveway. “Here you go,” he says. “Thank you,” she cackles. “Enjoy,” he says, before the door shuts. Sure, sure, it could be drugs. Or it could be BLOOD or BLACK MARKET HUMAN ORGANS used in spells.
- WE DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO NATHAN. I just need to reiterate this. He simply disappeared one day. I’m not quite sure what that means yet, but it seems suspicious.
- And probably the most compelling evidence of all (and this is not an exaggeration): I’ve only talked to Rhiannon one time. It was also the only time I’ve ever seen her outside. It was at night in late September when I went outside in the pitch dark to see the lunar eclipse/blood moon. I repeat: THE ONLY TIME I’VE EVER SEEN HER OUTSIDE WAS IN THE PITCH DARK DURING THE BLOOD MOON. She was standing in the front yard alone, just staring up at the moon. I mean, I suppose that’s how most people watched the lunar eclipse BUT STILL.
A while ago, I started getting nervous that Rhiannon was a ghost that only Bryan and I could hear. Could it have been possible that Nathan moved out and a ghostly woman took his place? That kind of stuff happens all the time. However, after casually bringing her up to the neighbors, I can confirm that they, too, have seen her through the windows of her apartment. WHICH MEANS I’M TOTALLY NOT CRAZY.
Well, I better wrap this up. I need to rub the windows and doorways of our house with garlic and search for hex bags, just in case Rhiannon’s plotting something against us.
Jillian Wyatt 