This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/IamHereNowAtLeast on 2024-10-14 02:32:15+00:00.
I always knew something was off about my neighbor, Alex.
Not in the creepy, staring-through-your-windows kind of way, but something subtler. Like he was pretending to be somebody he wasn’t. His stories about work shifted constantly, as if he couldn’t keep track of the life he was inventing. No friends, no family ever came to visit. There was always something that didn't quite add up.
But I never expected things to get as twisted as they did.
We lived across from each other in a four-unit flat. I was in 2W, and he was in 2E.
The first time I met Alex was the night I moved in.
It was pouring rain, and I was soaked, struggling to carry the last few boxes inside when Alex suddenly appeared. He was just there, standing in the rain without an umbrella, offering to help with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Later, I left a six-pack of Budweiser at his door as a thank you.
It sat there for days, untouched.
From then on, we’d occasionally exchange pleasantries in the hallway, small talk about the weather and sometimes weekend plans. But something about Alex always put me on edge. Maybe it was how his eyes lingered on me, or how he always seemed to know things about me… things I never remembered telling him.
There was one time in particular that stuck with me. I was late for a concert, rushing out the door when Alex stepped into the hallway. We exchanged quick hellos and how are yous, but as I flew down the stairs, he called after me.
“Enjoy Odesza!”
I was in the Uber for 10 minutes before I realized something. I never told Alex where I was going. I hadn’t mentioned the concert that night or Odesza ever. Especially that they were my favorite band. How did he know? Little things like that started to pile up. It felt like Alex knew more about me than any neighbor should.
****
One day, I came home to find a package at my door.
There was no return address, just my name and address written neatly on the label. I wasn’t expecting anything, but I figured maybe it was something from Amazon I had ordered and forgotten about. But inside was a small, black notebook, worn and frayed. At the top of the first page, my name and address were written in careful handwriting.
Then a pink post-it note fell off and fluttered to the ground.
It had a hastily handwritten note:
Found this at McGurk’s. No reward necessary. Pay it forward :)
I’d been to McGurk’s recently. Just a casual bar I go to with friends every once in a while.
But I had never seen this notebook before. It certainly wasn't mine.
Flipping through the pages, my stomach turned. Detailed notes filled every line. What time I left for work, what I wore each day, where I went, who I spoke to. Everything was there, meticulously documented.
Dates and times with events... repeating and repeating.
Walking to the grocery store, grabbing coffee at Picasso's down the street. Every page felt like a violation, a snapshot of my life through someone else’s eyes. But it wasn’t just the invasion of privacy that made me sick to my stomach. It was the realization that whoever had been watching me almost knew me better than I knew myself.
And then it hit me: Alex.
There was no other explanation. He had been watching me, keeping tabs on my every move. The strange comments, the way he always seemed to know what I was doing, it all made sense now. But why leave the notebook at my door? Was it some kind of sick joke, a way to let me know he was always there, always watching?
I couldn’t sit with the dread any longer. I had to confront him. It was late, but I didn’t care. My anger boiled over, fueled by fear.
I stormed across the hall and knocked on 2E's door, the notebook clenched in my hand. After a moment, the door opened, and there he stood, as calm as ever, with that same eerie smile plastered across his face. But the moment his eyes fell on the notebook in my hand, something shifted. The smile didn’t fade, but I saw a flicker in his expression. A glimpse of something darker.
"I think you dropped something," I said harshly, holding up my evidence.
Alex’s eyes narrowed.
For a second, I expected him to deny everything, to play dumb. But instead, he did something I hadn’t anticipated. He smiled wider, a grin that sent a chill down my spine.
"You shouldn't have opened that," he said softly. "You really shouldn't have."
Before I could respond, he stepped back and slammed the door in my face. I stood there, stunned. What the hell had just happened? Should I call the police? But what would I even tell them? That my neighbor had a creepy notebook filled with notes about me? That I thought he had been stalking me?
That night, I hardly slept. Every creak in the building, every soft sound, made me feel like my insides were jumping. I kept replaying Alex’s words in my head, trying to make sense of it all. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found the next morning.
When I walked to my door to leave for work, I gasped.
My door, which I had locked the night before, as I always triple checked, was slightly ajar. Just enough to make my skin crawl. Slowly, I scanned my apartment, searching for a sign that someone had been inside.
And laid out neatly on my coffee table, were dozens of photographs. All of me.
Me at work. Me walking to the store. Me inside my apartment. Me doing everything that had been cataloged in that damn notebook.
Every single one was taken from a distance, someone watching me. Some of the photos were recent, but others dated back months.
He had been watching me from the moment I moved in.
My hands trembled as I dialed 911, but before I could hit the call button, I heard a sound behind me. I spun around, my heart in my throat.
There was Alex, standing in the doorway, smiling that same cold, dark smile.
"I told you," he said softly. "You shouldn’t have opened that notebook."
Then I blinked and he was gone.
****
I tried to resume my life the next day, but a world of trouble waited for me.
My bank accounts were frozen. Credit cards were being declined. My emails were locked. It felt like my life was being erased. I tried to get help, but no one knew who Alex was.
My landlord said 2E had been vacant for a year, waiting on renovations to finish.
My downstairs neighbors had never heard of Alex.
Day by day, I lost pieces of myself. My habits changed. What I wore, how I talked, even my thoughts. It was subtle at first, then more pronounced. I stopped sleeping because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Alex standing there, smiling.
I even avoided mirrors. Because every time I caught my reflection, it wasn’t quite right. I looked different, like I didn't recognize myself. One night, I smashed every mirror in my apartment, shards of glass covering the floor.
Yet I still felt empty and confused.
Desperate for answers, I walked back to 2E and pushed the unlocked door open.
The apartment was empty, cobwebs in a corner, a new floor half-installed. The whole place was covered in dust. Then I saw it on the ground. The black notebook. My hands shook as I picked it up.
Inside were details about Alex. His name, his address handwritten. It sort of looked like my handwriting. And the person the notes were describing didn't sound like Alex. They sounded like they were describing me. How I looked. My routines and habits.
Panic set in, and I turned to leave 2E.
But Alex was there in the doorway, that same dark smile on his face.
“Your life is mine,” he whispered.
His voice echoed in my head. I ran past him, out of the building and into the night.
I just remember running.
I ended up somewhere in town I had never been.
And I couldn't quite remember how to get home.
Weeks blurred together after that. I wandered, forgetting where I was, who I was. My name, my apartment. All of it faded away, until there was nothing left but darkness.
The next memory I have is of a rainy night. It was pouring. And that I could see someone, a girl finishing moving into an apartment building. A six unit flat.
She was working on the last few boxes. Suddenly I was next to her, startling her.
“Hello, stranger!” she said to me with a laugh. “You really snuck up on me!”
“Oh, sorry for that. I’m a little out of sorts,” I said instinctively, like I was on autopilot. “Could you use some help?”
“That’d be wonderful,” she said, stacking my outstretched arms with two boxes. “I’m Josie, by the way. Moving into 3W right here. Do you live in the building…”
She was waiting for my name. I tried to say it, to remember it, but only one name would leave my lips.
“Alex,” I said, unwillingly, with a smile. “I’m in 3E, right across from you.”