True horror that inhabits the shadow of Paris-part 28


As my mother had foreseen, Mme HARMONY spread slander about me to everyone in the building. She even contacted my real estate agent to advise him to kick me out, but his other tenants had complained that Mme HARMONY was a spiteful old hag; thus, her slander was ignored. So I flew back to France after my doctor, who was treating my wrist, allowed it, provided that I did not write nor draw much. My blog was to remain stagnant for two years because I needed my wrist to do my work but had to spare my wrist from creative activities. But at least She the Hyena/leech was gone. I walked down the corridor, past the door to the basement storage…and gasped. 

A shadow was coming up from the basement. The shadow turned around and smiled at me. It was Mme HARMONY! What was she still doing here after the purchase of her former apartment was finalized? Was not she supposed to hand over ALL the keys to the Italian buyer, including the one to the basement storage? Mme. HARMONY should not have trespassed it. Was that a smile of guilt on her face for being caught, or…? 

‘Bonjour.’ She addressed me by my first name. My stomach turned. 

She started walking toward me, and I sweated. I nearly ran but restrained myself. I would not let She the Hyena/leech intimidate me again. I kept walking, and as I passed her, I returned ‘Bonjour’ so she could not criticize Asians for not having manners, but she was not getting any more. I sensed her surprise but walked on without looking back, up the stairs to my apartment. I quickly closed the door behind me and remembered the slandering message she had sent to my neighbours a few months ago. It was concluded with her hope that I would come to my senses and she, the ever generous Mme HARMONY would forgive me.  

Mirror that reflects your soulTwo days later, I walked up the stairs and froze. The old woman was standing in front of my door! Mme HARMONY knew the access code to the building. I would not open my door because she would force herself, perhaps, to use my toilet again. So I stood next to her and stared at her. She smiled at me cajolingly and cheerfully greeted me Bonjour. I returned one but with a low voice, still staring. Undaunted, she put on a dazzling smile again, but I would not flinch. Finally, she walked down the stairs and left, but I sensed that the human leech was not giving up. I still had something she wanted to benefit from, the skills of DIY. I can make or fix almost anything except electricity. I have a toolbox with a driller, electric saw, the lot. Tradesmen are so expensive to hire in Paris Mme HARMONY could badly use my skill…free of charge, of course. 

And wouldn’t you know it, a few days later, Mme HARMONY was spotted in my neighbourhood which was not a walkable distance from where she lived for an aged person with cancer. Such was her nature that her cancer treatment might have been exaggerated to manipulate people. I for one fell for it and dropped my usual precaution at the beginning. A genuinely sick person listening to death every day could not have been this greedy for money and have the stamina to plot like the human sponge.  

I was sick of being taken for a fool that could be mind-controlled again. I grimaced, which was rare for Japanese and briskly walked away. I felt her anger but let her do her worse. I had enough witnesses to endorse my side of the story: Jupiter with whom I had exchanged contact details, the Italian buyer who had been extorted, my French lawyer and his legal letter, and many other residents who found her to be a trouble maker. All of them initially thought Mme. HARMONY was nice, no I was not the only one duped. 

A while later, I sensed some movement outside my door, so I checked through the peeking hole and…a man stared back! I recognized him to be Mr STOOL. One day Mme HARMONY told us to carry up a heavy mattress she had found in the garbage room. She wanted it in her guest room, but I did not want to touch it. Mattresses are discarded when they are infested with fleas. I reminded Mme. HARMONY that rats were often seen in the garbage room too; but she said a sheet over the mattress would do. She was not going to sleep on the infested mattress herself, but she was having a guest over. I was appalled, but Mr STOOL faithfully carried the infected mattress up the stairs. Such was his blind devotion to his Goddess.

And here he was, staring at my door reproachfully. God knows what Mme HARMONY told him, but I must have been portrayed as one ungrateful Asian who wronged his dear Goddess. He knew enough facts that Mme HARMONY was snowing me with jobs beyond my capacity, but Mr STOOL was not swayed. I remember his expression vividly when he first discovered that I lived in the centre of Paris. He clearly disapproved of Asians inhabiting the sacred part of Paris, but he relaxed after learning I was serving Mme HARMONY like a XXX. This Asian knew her place, according to him.  

Mr STOOL continued to stare at my door for a long time until a woman’s voice from below called him away. It was about this time when my door lock was broken in an amateurish manner. Nothing was stolen because the intruder in the building failed to open my door. The intruder barely managed to cut off the knob but could not turn the lock. I believe someone just wanted to scare me. After this incident, the access code to the building was changed, and curiously neither Mr. STOOL nor Mme. HARMONY was ever sighted in the neighbourhood.