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Apartment 12

A Story of Introspection and Solitude

By Shontel AnestasiaPublished 3 years ago 8 min read
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Photo by Shontel Anestasia of @13Chakras_

The past few months have been full of introspection. For the first time, the world seemed to slow down and allow me to bask in my thoughts. Merriam-Webster defines introspection as: "a reflective looking-inward; an examination of one's thoughts and feelings." As an empath, my feelings and the environment become a fluid interchange. I have a vital concern for others at an unbreakable depth, and yet my emotional empathy and capability to self soothe is deeply repressed due to childhood conditioning. My depression the past few months guided me into a profound transformation that changed my life for the better. I sometimes become a stranger to my own emotional experience, so I learned to use my solitude to create my own paradise to retreat into.

We live in a world where there's plenty of pressure to look outward for the sake of comparisons, however hardly inward. We all have demons inside of us, and every day we fight against them whether we realize it or not. Sometimes we lose, and sometimes we win. Many times were ashamed to address our demons, and we ignore and bury them because society tells us to concentrate on the positive like "love and light" but never "shadow and darkness." While in quarantine, my memories walked be back to last summer.

East 88th Street

It was no different than any other night. I left work around 7 pm, and I rode the 6 train home versus the express because I wanted a seat to relax. I walked up the slope of East 88th street and arrived at my building. I finally reached the 3rd floor and saw my Super leaning over the railing, I pulled my last foot off the step, and I saw police at my door. I asked what happened, and they replied with their silence. I asked again, and my super Steve replies, "I'll tell you later." I peek my head past the officers, and I see my neighbor's door is cracked open. "Is he okay?" I asked Steve. "I'll tell you later," he repeats.

I slowly walked to my door, passing a small empty kennel with a police report lying on top of it. Confused, I listened for Charlie, and I couldn't hear anything but his AC and the cops walkies talkie going off. I looked back at Steve and the police officer, and they refused to make eye contact.

Charles Windham - Apartment 12

Charles was my favorite neighbor, and he lived right across from me in Apartment 12. We exchanged words on passing, and I brought up all his packages the past year, and occasionally he would leave gifts at my doors like paper towels and Champion tee shirts. My other neighbor and I would joke that he worked at a strip club because he would return home at 7 am and leave at riding off at dawn on a motorcycle. Charlie had an eccentric cat, and of course, I liked him—-because I love crazy.

I put down my bag and hopped in the shower. I could not take my mind off what the hell was going on in that apartment. I thought to myself, "Was there a fight?" "Did the cat get stuck?". I poured myself a glass of sauvignon blanc, and I paced in my kitchen listening to the walkie talkies go off, but still, his door was closed. I couldn't take it anymore, and I put on any shoes I can find and run downstairs. I knocked on my supers door demanding to know what was going on…

Charlie liked to sing opera in his apartment, and he wasn't great at it. I remember grabbing my other neighbor, and we laughed outside the door, but the amount of joy Charlie was portraying at that very point and time made me so damn happy. Charlie and I become friends because one night, two years ago, while I was watching TV, I heard him coughing, and it sounded like he was choking. It wouldn't stop, I banged on his door, and no one came. I thought to call the cops, but I was scared I could be overreacting. I wrote a note in big letters "ARE YOU OKAY? PLEASE RETURN" and slid it under his door. He didn't return the paper until hours later, and he replied he was fine. Within the week, we ran into each other as I was coming home, and he explained he had a health issue. I recommended an air purifier, and he got it. My building was built in the 1910s and has never been renovated. Stepping into my building, you enter the twilight zone, and I think it's pretty rad besides the endless dust.

My super took a sigh and leaned on his door, telling me what happened. I was in disbelief. I walked back upstairs slowly, I saw more cops pull up to our building, and I noticed both entrance doors were propped open. I reached the 3rd floor, took a right, went inside my apartment, and shut the door. I heard so many footsteps coming up, walkie talkies, and metal clinging against the wall. I peered out my peephole, and a man in an all-white plastic suit head to toe came into my peripheral, followed by four cops with one animal control pole. The door opened, and Charlie was lying on the ground…….Dead.

The Peephole

I went into work out of it. My chest hurt, and I kept eating to comfort myself. Charlie was not an old man, but nor was he young. He danced between 48 and 59 years old. It took the cops about an hour to capture the cat; the cat knew me, but I had to stay inside because it was considered a crime scene. I sat in my living room in silence, and I could hear all the activity behind me through the wall. They must have taken over 50 photos. The irony of the situation is that this is what I went to school to solve murders. I sat at my desk today typing, and all I could see is him laying there lifeless. This morning, I found out that Charlie recently passed a nursing test, and he was working in a hospital. He was excited, and now I understood why he was singing only a few weeks ago. Charlie was dead for about a week. He missed his shifts at work, so they called his sister, who then contacted my super. For a week, I walked past his door, unaware of his state. His AC and air purifier were running when they found him, so that's why there was no smell. I spent the entire weekend home, and I had no clue he was there alone riding past rigor mortis and into livor mortis.

I strive to turn every event in my life positive. I wanted to tell someone what happened that night, but I don't think anyone would have believed me, so I walked within my thoughts. They wouldn't have thought that I'm living next to a potential homicide, and the victim is my friend. I get so upset when I'm projected onto, and Charlie showed me a mirror. I joked that Charlie was a Strip Club bouncer, and I even pictured it too. In reality, Charlie worked at his lucrative job at the hospital and was about to make even more money. He's been living in that same apartment for 25 years, and the last three, he was showed me myself. I won't ever forget Charlie, and I honestly don't want another neighbor. I won't bring up their packages, and I probably won't engage with them. Charlie left me with one more gift before he died, and that was perspective.

Two weeks later, the family of Charles came to collect his belongings. As the family cleared apartment 12, they explained that there would be a few things left behind I could have. I waited until I waved the family goodbye and reentered the apartment alone. There in the corner sat Charles' new air purifier and stacks of books. I put the air purifier in the hallway and glided towards the books. I started reading the book titles, and a lump formed in my throat. In 2017, I found books in my building lobby on spirituality and astrology. After leaving Corporate America to focus on my Mental Health, these books sparked my spiritual journey and are now a staple in my online business. Charlie was the one disposing of these books in the lobby for others to take. Now 16 months later, and 2020 is coming to an end, I realized that Charles played an even larger role in my life than expected, and we exchanged very few words.

I believe that before we reincarnate on this earth, we create soul contracts. These contracts are an unconscious promise that you made with yourself and other souls to give you the tools you need to fulfill your destiny. These soul contracts can be with your 5th-grade teacher, your next-door neighbor, the beggar down the road, and everyone else in between. I live near an island in NYC, and a few times a week, I travel to the water, reflect on past events, and analyze my emotional experience. Living in a city that never sleeps, I'm most thankful for the privilege to introspect this year. My personal belief is that the self-discovery uncovered through introspection is a reward unto itself. Introspection is not a cure-all; however, it's a valuable tool for growing up inside and becoming a happier person. Thank you, 2020, for bestowing on me the tools I needed to continue my spiritual journey.

Looking into myself [Photo by Kiefer Dixon]

healing
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About the Creator

Shontel Anestasia

30 years of existence as an infinite being with profound experiences have given me the gift of storytelling. www.ShontelAnestasia.com

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