True horror story of living near a psychopath in Paris- Part 4

If it was ever disclosed, my complete profile would reveal all sorts of minority groups, starting with my gender and race.  I have been harassed on many levels throughout my life, but I lacked the stomach and power to carry out revenge.  This was a blessing in disguise because retribution eventually manifested itself, which inspired me to share on this blog.  I quote many others before me that ‘True horror is hidden within man’.


Our survival instincts are often compromised by our denial of imminent danger.  A pair of amoral people lived above my studio, yet I chose to be blind to the risk.  Maybe I was too scared to confront the truth and yet foolishly refused to acknowledge the defeat by moving out.  As much as it sounds like ‘Victims bashing’, I feel victims, unless children, may be partially responsible for the tragedies, judging from my own behaviour. 

But in my defence, the noise of their washing machine was weakening me.  Ordinary people only wash once per day or every other day, but Leila and her fiancé ran their washing machine virtually non-stop.  I started to drop things, for my hands were shaking.  How could the two upstairs be not affected by the noise?  I frantically searched for an answer, and it seems if you drink a lot, you are less likely to be affected by noise.  The wine is cheap in Paris, so I tried this solution to help me sleep a little.  Maybe Leila and her fiancé drank a lot too?  Yes and no, as I was about to find out. 

One afternoon I saw Leila’s fiancé again by the window on the staircase, but he did not notice me.  He was frantically banging the window grid with something.  The rhythm reminded me of the other night when he hit his floor/my ceiling.  There was no usual smirk on his face, and I sensed that his mind was absent.  It slowly dawned on me that while Leila’s action stemmed from her desire to hurt others, he may have been driven by another thing.  I was never a cigarette smoker and did not drink much, but I had read about the other substances that affected our nerves.   Up to this point, I had never thought of the possibility of the two neighbours from Hell being involved in crimes.  I was afraid of Leila’s fiancé turning physically violent on me, but the frequent use of the washing machine upstairs was becoming abnormal.  

So I decided to google two words, ‘washing machine’ and the other word…I had no idea what it was because I was the boring prude I still am.  Then by pure luck, the YouTube videos featuring Mr Bill Maher that I had been following discussed the medical use of some potent plants.  I saw the word that spelt with ‘W’ on the monitor next to Mr Maher.  That must be the second word I needed.  I googled and then was blown away by all the videos that came up.  I knew that man was not in cleanliness, but how could Leila, seemingly a wise woman, support such a man?  Then I remembered one conversation we had before she turned anti-social on me. 

Mirror that reflects your soul

I remembered Leila hobbling down the stairs a few days after I moved in.  She looked weak, so I stopped to inquire.  She was in agony because of chronic pain in her knees.  ‘Have you tried acupuncture?  It works,’ I said as any Asian would.  Leila, however, had already tried it but could not keep up with the expensive fees.  Everything is expensive in Paris.  She looked so miserable when we parted that I was surprised to see her bouncing around in her high heels shortly afterwards.  She was in a very jolly mood too.  That’s nice, and I did not think much of it until now.  

Back to the video of Mr Bill Maher.  He had back pain and relied on medically prescribed Marijuana.  I never thought I would ever write this word in my prudish blog, but I see it differently now.  First, Mr Bill Maher had already impressed me with his fair and accurate observations coated with British-style satire and American enthusiasm (best of the two worlds.) Secondly, now that I have learned that it was medically helpful and prescribed through the proper channels in some states, why blame the plant for the immorality of the shady dealers who used to sell them illegally?  In fact, had it been legalized in France, Leila would have been able to afford it, and she may not have been vulnerable to her fiancé or what he could provide her with.  And had it not been for that shady fiancé, I could have contacted the police to complain about Leila’s anti-social behaviour without the fear of retaliation by his associates. 

Was moving the only solution for my plight?