9 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2612 | Prompt: the worst result (Part 5 - Conclusion) ENG/ESL

Part 4

Getting to the bottom of the mysterious happenings at the Brownstone proved difficult for Monica. But conceding wasn't an option. Meanwhile, while Monica was investigating Thorny without any assistance, the real culprits who'd set in motion the events had fallen radio silent.

Not having the luxury of being long-term tenants, they underestimated the vindictiveness ingrained in Thorny. Of all the tenants, Maddie's negative reaction toward the other tenants gave them cause to worry. Added to the fact that Thorny did nothing to decrease the stress.

It didn't take long for the tenants to notice one of them was missing. No one had spotted Monica exercising in the common room the last two weeks.

But they had their own issues pressing against their front doors. Thorny's antagonistic attitude spread to every tenant in the building. After a few months dealing with it, they reasoned that Thorny blamed them for Monica's push back.

We must stand firm on our decision, they agreed, lest we create even heightened tension in the building. The fact that Monica no longer spoke to them confirmed their unsubstantiated suspicion that she must be considering dragging them into her alleged lawsuit.

Tension was the highest they'd ever encountered in the Brownstone. What they thought would be a fleeting back and forth turned into an avalanche that had snowballed its way down their boulevard, threatening to bury them under their complicity.

"It was us," Maddie reminded the others, "that disrupted our Brownstone livelihood and amenities. And it is us whom I believe that suffered most the consequences." Glancing around and nodding, they locked hands as if drawing strength from one another in a coalition of hope that the situation would resolve itself.

In that moment, Monica's problems faded into Unit #209.

The tenants had no idea the agony Monica had endured. She no longer trusted nor confided in them. So it was no surprise that they hadn't heard from her in two weeks nor knew her whereabouts. Rumors swirled, but they didn't dare ask Thorny.

That something else, the tenants could not have anticipated. Unbeknownst to them, Monica had taken time away from work."

Three hours into the drive home, Monica pulled over out of harm's way. She stepped from her vehicle and bent over. Her face turned beet red as a sharp pain in her left side intensified.

Several moments later, she vomited. Holding onto the car's door handle, she leaned against the hood until she could return inside. But she couldn't drive another mile.

Immediately, she called her parents. Within the hours, they arrived at the hospital. They were solid in their support. She'd only divulged a smidgen of information on the Brownstone situation. Now, she explained her ongoing saga with Thorny.

It wasn't in her nature to play games with people, but If it's games he wants to play, she mused, then let the games begin. Trick him she would, if merely to save her own sanity.

"Remember, in all dealings with irascible individuals, kill them with kindness," her father reminded her. He continued, "revenge is best served cold. Just be smart going forward. And don't allow anyone to push you out of your home without a valid reason determined by law."

Her mother, always a voice of reason, glanced sharply at her father, then added, "dealing with men, no matter who, is really quite simple, dear." She then nodded and her husband removed himself from the room.

Monica listened quietly.

Five days later after her emergency appendectomy, she was released from the hospital. She requested, and it was approved, a short medical leave from her job. With the help of her parents, her rent was paid in advance for the next year. Her parents and best friend insisted she recuperate at their homes, but she refused.

Back to the Brownstone she was headed.

Now, Part 5 - Conclusion

No one saw Monica leave. No one witnessed her return. And she preferred it that way.

Settled into her apartment again, she scoured the living room, deposited her suitcase, then glanced toward the small balcony that was her retreat. She stepped outside away from the stale air.

Overlooking the balcony was a quiet cul-de-sac where the Brownstone sat. A perfect location from her job, on a clear day, she could see the outline of the building. She was excited to become a tenant after signing up for a six-month waiting list.

She half-smiled.

From the outside, the Brownstone resembled the perfect, tranquil environment. She sighed as though weary returning from a battlefield. But she was voluntarily headed back into battle.

The last thing she wanted to do was to begin the lawsuit process. She'd consoled several friends who'd gone through those procedures for various reasons. Time nor resources were at her disposal. But she understood why they proceeded. When someone pushes you to the limit, then you've no place to go for relief but to the courts.

Reluctantly, Monica consulted an attorney.

"It's not guaranteed," the lawyer stated, "but if you keep accurate details and record of dates, events, and conversations, we could offer that as evidence."

So she set her plan in motion. With plenty of ammunition, all that needed was documentation.

First thing was to purchase a reliable voice recorder. It a battle of wits; her word against his.

But she was dead tired of the drama. She frowned as a twinge flowed through her stomach. She returned inside and top a short nap.

The Brownstone fell into a vacuum. The quiet unnerved Monica. Was it her anxiousness or had the eighteen tenants who started the downward spiral and subsequent drama had vacated the premises.

During her convalescence, she'd only heard Thorny's voice twice when he visited her floor. Not anticipating a friendly encounter, she remained in her apartment.

Two weeks later, Monica returned to work.

She continued her normal routine, except the strenuous exercise, reducing her workouts to two times a week. She approached the common room and twisted the doorknob cautiously expecting it to be locked.

To her surprise, the room was unlocked on the first occasion. The next time she visited, it was locked. This cat-and-mouse game continued for several more weeks.

The same occurrences happened with the laundry room and first-floor bathroom facilities. As far as her trash pickup, once she set her container on the curb, she photographed it and the surrounding area. No dogs were to be seen.

Finally, on the fourth week, she secured evidence from a nearby neighbor that Thorny was the culprit in removing her trash bag from the bin. Her excitement in this discovery cemented her suspicion.

Her mother's advice to solicit assistance from outside the building while she was away at her job worked perfectly. Now she possessed photo evidence.

Monica confronted Thorny.

With her recorder ready, she politely requested a meeting. His blustering attitude still presented itself uncontrollable so she dared not hold the meeting behind closed doors in his apartment. She requested they meet in the common area with the door open. Hesitant at first, he consented.

Once there, Monica extended her hand toward Thorny.

"I don't have time for games. What's that?" The moment he glanced at the photo, his face turned burst into flames.

"What the hell is this? An invasion of privacy as I see it! he ranted, then slammed his fist on the table.

Monica quietly stood staring while Thorny's flailing arms barely missed her face. His nostrils flared. He resembled someone about to succumb to a cardiac arrest as he grabbed his chest.

But Monica knew he was embarrassed and angry at being caught in the act of sabotage. He quickly scoured the room, then looked beyond her into the hall, probably to ascertain whether any other tenant witnessed their exchange.

When he was certain no one else heard them, he calmed down enough and snatched the photo from her hand, then tear it to shreds. His back stiff, he clenched his fist and thrust his jaw forward. Monica watched as anger spread across his face, like fire leaping from one eye to the other gathering weapons.

"What is that, you ask? An exercise in futility like the other underhanded things you've done in the Brownstone to make life miserable for me and, by unintentionally, the other eighteen tenants. I now have that evidence and others to take to the management company and my attorney."

Monica stared as Thorny stood silent. His large, round stony face looked as if frozen in time as though the loss of his manager position and additional incentives flashed before his eyes. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Monica stepped back anticipating his lunge.

But he didn't. Instead, Thorny rushed past her, brushing hard against her shoulder before disappearing from the common room.

Just as my mom predicted. Confront a bully, and he'll back down.

The next day, Monica readied herself for the meeting with the Brownstone owner. She desired to give management a chance to respond before taking the evidence to her attorney.

"How may I assist you?" the receptionist's polite voice answered.

Monica set up a meeting with the building owner for the coming week. Confident in her position, Monica ignored the other tenants while Thorny dared not approach her.

It's funny how situations work out sometimes, Monica mused as she exercised with her friend without interference.

Three days later, an incident occurred that forever changed the Brownstone and all its tenants.

Returning from work, as soon as Monica opened the door to the building, she smelled a dull unpleasant odor. Her training told her it was bad sign. Why didn't any of the other tenants notice the smell? she thought, as she retreated out the door to her car. She placed her work items inside, then returned to the building.

As she suspected, the odor was not something emanating from mere bad smelling garbage. It was rotten eggs. A gas leak.

Monica sprang into action. She pulled the fire alarm to awaken any sleeping tenants. She ran from door to door on each of the floors. Thank God it's only twenty of us.

The last door she knocked on was Thorny's. But she didn't remain to see whether he answered. She knew she had to act quickly.

Within ten minutes sirens rang out from down the boulevard. Tenants gathered in the hallways.

"Spread the word. There's a gas leak in the building. Everyone out. NOW! Down the stairs. And don't take the elevator."

Inside the Brownstone the air was dense with panic as Monica watched tenants push to gain advantage on each other. They ran amidst the chaos from the building. She scoured the inside, but didn't see Thorny come down the stairs.

It was instinct that caused her take two flights of steps at a time. No matter who that person is, it's another human being. She didn't think of him as Thorny, her enemy. Banging on his door, he finally answered, out of breath. He'd heard the alarm, but this time his heart actually actually fluttered. He felt light headed.

Save Me! Thorny screamed. his eyes widened in disbelief.

It was a heavy task, but Monica placed Thorny's arm around her neck and managed to help him down one flight of stairs just as the emergency crew rushed inside. The crew assisted them both from the building.

Tenants, neighbors, and others stood outside away from the building staring at the flurry of activity. They were advised to clear the area.

While hurrying away to safety, several tenants commented how lucky they were that Monica arrived home in time. They all rushed to her and personally shook her hand.

"What an awesome neighbor," Maddie shouted. "Our hero!" She'd make an excellent building manager. She stared at Monica as though they were best friends.

Silent, Thorny stood to the side and stared blankly at the Brownstone. No one could tell what he was thinking at that moment. But Monica knew full well. He'd heard the comments from the other tenants, but kept silent.

Monica didn't expect him to join in. They were enemies, she remembered. But she couldn't help watching him alternately stare at her, then the ground, then the building.

What came next was so unexpected that Monica's head jerked back. There was Thorny speaking to her in a tone that was almost civil.

"We just may become friends after this ordeal. Imagine that." Thorny spoke while looking at another tenant.

The friend from hell, Monica thought. Then she remembered what her mom told her in the hospital. Kill them with kindness.

She had accomplished this that day. Although she wished it were under different circumstances. They all could have been killed.

It's funny how situations and life work out sometimes, she thought. Just get through this night.

She'd consider the situation with Thorny, the Building Owner, and the lawsuit tomorrow. As my dad always quoted his favorite scripture, "do unto others as you'd have them do unto you."

Thank God for mom and dad, she smiled thinking.

The inspiration for my story were three prompts from the @daily.prompt:

Mi historia se inspiró en tres mensajes de @daily.prompt:

11 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2614: friend from hell

2 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2605: bad sign

30 December 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2602: save me!

! [The Uncooperative Tenant Part 5 Conclusion]

Now, Part 5 - Conclusion

^Source...

Nadie vio salir a Mónica. Nadie fue testigo de su regreso. Y ella lo prefería así.

Instalada de nuevo en su apartamento, recorrió el salón, depositó su maleta y luego miró hacia el pequeño balcón que era su refugio. Salió y se alejó del aire viciado.

El balcón daba a una tranquila calle sin salida donde se encontraba la casa de piedra rojiza. Una ubicación perfecta desde su trabajo, en un día claro, podía ver el contorno del edificio. Le hacía ilusión ser inquilina después de apuntarse a una lista de espera de seis meses.

Ella esbozó una media sonrisa.

Desde fuera, la Brownstone parecía el entorno perfecto y tranquilo. Suspiró como si volviera cansada de un campo de batalla. Pero ella se dirigía voluntariamente de nuevo a la batalla.

Lo último que quería era iniciar un proceso judicial. Había consolado a varios amigos que habían pasado por esos trámites por diversos motivos. No disponía de tiempo ni de recursos. Pero entendía por qué procedían. Cuando alguien te lleva al límite, no tienes más remedio que acudir a los tribunales.

A regañadientes, Mónica consultó a un abogado.

«No está garantizado», afirmó el abogado, “pero si guardas detalles precisos y un registro de fechas, acontecimientos y conversaciones, podríamos ofrecerlo como prueba”.

Así que puso en marcha su plan. Con munición de sobra, todo lo que necesitaba era documentación.

Lo primero fue comprar una grabadora de voz fiable. Una batalla de ingenio: su palabra contra la de él.

Pero estaba harta del drama. Frunció el ceño y sintió una punzada en el estómago. Volvió al interior y echó una cabezadita.

El Brownstone cayó en el vacío. La tranquilidad inquietó a Mónica. ¿Era su ansiedad o los dieciocho inquilinos que iniciaron la espiral descendente y el drama posterior habían abandonado el lugar?

Durante su convalecencia, sólo había oído la voz de Thorny dos veces cuando visitó su piso. Como no esperaba un encuentro amistoso, permaneció en su piso.

Dos semanas después, Mónica volvió al trabajo.

Continuó con su rutina normal, excepto el ejercicio extenuante, reduciendo sus entrenamientos a dos veces por semana. Se acercó a la sala común y giró el pomo de la puerta con cautela, esperando que estuviera cerrada.

Para su sorpresa, la habitación estaba abierta la primera vez. La siguiente vez que la visitó, estaba cerrada. Este juego del gato y el ratón continuó durante varias semanas más.

Lo mismo ocurrió con el lavadero y los aseos del primer piso. En cuanto a la recogida de basura, una vez que depositó el contenedor en la acera, lo fotografió junto con la zona circundante. No se veía ningún perro.

Finalmente, a la cuarta semana, consiguió pruebas de un vecino cercano de que Thorny era el culpable de sacar la bolsa de basura de la papelera. Su emoción por este descubrimiento cimentó su sospecha.

El consejo de su madre de solicitar ayuda fuera del edificio mientras ella estaba en su trabajo funcionó a la perfección. Ahora tenía pruebas fotográficas.

Mónica se enfrentó a Thorny.

Con la grabadora preparada, solicitó amablemente una reunión. Su actitud fanfarrona seguía presentándose incontrolable, así que no se atrevió a celebrar la reunión a puerta cerrada en su apartamento. Le pidió que se reunieran en la zona común con la puerta abierta. Al principio vaciló, pero accedió.

Una vez allí, Mónica extendió la mano hacia Thorny.

«No tengo tiempo para juegos. ¿Qué es eso?» En el momento en que miró la foto, su cara se convirtió en llamas.

"¿Qué demonios es esto? Una invasión de la intimidad, tal y como yo lo veo! despotricó, y luego golpeó la mesa con el puño.

Mónica se quedó callada mirando mientras los brazos agitados de Thorny apenas le rozaban la cara. Sus fosas nasales se encendieron. Parecía alguien a punto de sufrir un paro cardíaco mientras se agarraba el pecho.

Pero Mónica sabía que estaba avergonzado y enfadado por haber sido sorprendido en el acto de sabotaje. Recorrió rápidamente la habitación y luego miró más allá de ella, al vestíbulo, probablemente para averiguar si algún otro inquilino había presenciado su intercambio.

Cuando estuvo seguro de que nadie más los oía, se calmó lo suficiente y le arrebató la foto de la mano, para luego hacerla pedazos. Con la espalda rígida, apretó el puño y echó la mandíbula hacia delante. Mónica vio cómo la ira se extendía por su rostro, como el fuego que salta de un ojo a otro recogiendo armas.

*"¿Qué es eso, te preguntarás? Un ejercicio de futilidad como las otras cosas turbias que has hecho en el Brownstone para hacerme la vida imposible a mí y, sin querer, a los otros dieciocho inquilinos. Ahora tengo esa prueba y otras para llevar a la empresa de gestión y a mi abogado».

Mónica se quedó mirando mientras Thorny permanecía en silencio. Su rostro pétreo, grande y redondo, parecía congelado en el tiempo, como si la pérdida de su puesto de gerente y los incentivos adicionales pasaran ante sus ojos. Cambió el peso de un pie a otro.

Mónica retrocedió anticipándose a su embestida.

Pero no lo hizo. En lugar de eso, Thorny pasó corriendo junto a ella, rozándole con fuerza el hombro antes de desaparecer de la sala común.

Tal y como predijo mi madre. Enfréntate a un matón y se echará atrás.

Al día siguiente, Mónica se preparó para la reunión con el propietario del Brownstone. Quería dar a la dirección la oportunidad de responder antes de llevar las pruebas a su abogado.

«¿En qué puedo ayudarle?», respondió la educada voz de la recepcionista.

Mónica concertó una reunión con el propietario del edificio para la semana siguiente. Confiada en su posición, Mónica ignoró a los demás inquilinos mientras Thorny no se atrevía a acercarse a ella.

Es curioso cómo se resuelven a veces las situaciones, reflexionó Mónica mientras hacía ejercicio con su amiga sin interferencias.

Tres días después, se produjo un incidente que cambió para siempre el Brownstone y a todos sus inquilinos.

Al volver del trabajo, en cuanto Mónica abrió la puerta del edificio, sintió un olor sordo y desagradable. Su entrenamiento le dijo que era mala señal. ¿Por qué ninguno de los otros inquilinos notó el olor? pensó, mientras salía por la puerta hacia su coche. Metió sus cosas en el coche y volvió al edificio.

Como sospechaba, el olor no era algo que emanara de una simple basura maloliente. Eran huevos podridos. Una fuga de gas.

Mónica se puso en marcha. Activó la alarma de incendios para despertar a los inquilinos que dormían. Corrió de puerta en puerta por todas las plantas. Gracias a Dios sólo somos veinte.

La última puerta a la que llamó fue la de Thorny. Pero no se quedó a ver si contestaba. Sabía que tenía que actuar con rapidez.

En diez minutos sonaron las sirenas en el bulevar. Los inquilinos se reunieron en los pasillos.

"Corre la voz. Hay una fuga de gas en el edificio. Todo el mundo fuera. ¡AHORA! Bajen las escaleras. Y no tomen el ascensor. «

En el interior del Brownstone, el aire estaba cargado de pánico mientras Mónica veía cómo los inquilinos se empujaban unos a otros para ganar ventaja. Salieron corriendo en medio del caos del edificio. Recorrió el interior, pero no vio a Thorny bajar las escaleras.

Fue el instinto lo que la hizo dar dos pasos a la vez. No importa quién sea esa persona, es otro ser humano. Ella no pensaba en él como Thorny, su enemigo. Golpeando su puerta, finalmente respondió, sin aliento. Había oído la alarma, pero esta vez su corazón realmente se agitó. Se sentía mareado.

**¡Sálvame! Thorny gritó. Sus ojos se abrieron de par en par con incredulidad.

Fue una tarea pesada, pero Mónica se pasó el brazo de Thorny por el cuello y consiguió ayudarle a bajar un tramo de escaleras justo cuando el equipo de emergencia se apresuraba a entrar. El personal les ayudó a salir del edificio.

Inquilinos, vecinos y otras personas se quedaron fuera, lejos del edificio, observando el alboroto de actividad. Se les aconsejó que desalojaran la zona.

Mientras se apresuraban a ponerse a salvo, varios inquilinos comentaron lo afortunados que eran de que Mónica hubiera llegado a casa a tiempo. Todos corrieron hacia ella y le estrecharon la mano personalmente.

«¡Qué vecino tan increíble!», gritó Maddie. «¡Nuestra heroína!». Sería una excelente administradora de edificios. Se quedó mirando a Mónica como si fueran mejores amigas.

Silencioso, Thorny se hizo a un lado y miró inexpresivamente hacia el Brownstone. Nadie podía saber lo que estaba pensando en aquel momento. Pero Mónica lo sabía muy bien. Había oído los comentarios de los otros inquilinos, pero guardó silencio.

Mónica no esperaba que se uniera. Recordaba que eran enemigos. Pero no pudo evitar mirarle alternativamente a ella, al suelo y al edificio.

Lo que vino a continuación fue tan inesperado que Mónica echó la cabeza hacia atrás. Allí estaba Thorny hablándole en un tono casi civilizado.

«Puede que nos hagamos amigos después de este calvario. Imagínatelo». Thorny habló mientras miraba a otro inquilino.

La amiga del infierno, pensó Mónica. Entonces recordó lo que su madre le dijo en el hospital. Mátalos con amabilidad.

Ese día lo había conseguido. Aunque deseó que fuera en otras circunstancias. Podrían haberlos matado a todos.

Es curioso cómo las situaciones y la vida funcionan a veces, pensó. Sólo pasa esta noche.

Consideraría la situación con Thorny, el propietario del edificio y la demanda mañana. Como mi padre siempre citaba su escritura favorita, «haz a los demás lo que te gustaría que te hicieran a ti».

Gracias a Dios por mamá y papá, sonrió pensando.

For your convenience if you'd like to return to the beginning of "From the Smoke Club to the Ridge, the Smoke screen Unveils" drama, I set out below Chapters 1 - 4:

Para su comodidad, si desea volver al principio del drama «Del club del humo a la cresta, la cortina de humo se desvela», expongo a continuación los capítulos 1 - 4:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

**Part 4::

Good luck everyone with whatever your endeavors.

SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/

English is my native language.
If translation included, I use DeepL to assist my readers.
Thanks for your patience an understanding.

El inglés es mi lengua materna.
Si se incluye traducción, utilizo DeepL para ayudar a mis lectores.
Gracias por su paciencia y comprensión.