Until Death

Don't be satisfied with the protagonist's explanations.

We always thought my neighbors fought too much, "we" being my friend Amy and I, my neighbors being the newlywed Petersons, Greg and Jennifer. For two people who loved each other, they argued constantly. I considered reporting them under a noise complaint, but reconsidered when I remembered how kind they were to me. In fact, the Petersons might've been the kindest people in the neighborhood--towards others.

Greg was a traveling salesman who often left Jennifer alone for days on end. She didn't seem to mind. Amy, who lives on the other side of my house, often speculated whether he was cheating on her when he took his trips. She said it wouldn't surprise her, but I always doubted it; despite being newlyweds, the couple wasn't that young, and moreover, Greg was no Casanova.

I was out for a walk one morning when I heard a scream coming from the Petersons' house, followed by complete silence. Naturally, I was very worried, and decided to investigate. I tried to knock on their door casually despite my desparation. After a couple minutes, Greg finally came to the door, opening it only an inch or so. I told him what I heard and asked if everything was okay.

"Oh, it's fine," he said, his friendly cadence not quite matching his apparent defensiveness, "Jennifer saw a spider. She's arachnophobic, you know."

"OK," I said, "Just thought I'd check."

"Thank you so much for caring," said Greg, smiling, "Welp, I've got to eat dinner before it gets cold. Jennifer makes the best shepherd's pie."

The next day, I told Amy about the encounter.

"Let's keep our eyes peeled," she told me, "And if you hear a scream again, you should call the cops. You said you heard it from near a few houses down? No spider is that scary. Sounds fishy."

A few days passed without incident. Then, around the corner of my garage, I saw him taking out the trash. The bag must've been heavy, because he seemed to struggle with lifting it. He didn't put it in the bin. Instead, he threw it in the back seat of his black van and drove off.

That was her, I thought. That was Jennifer. He'd finally killed her, and now was disposing of her hacked-up corpse. I should've called the cops right away when I heard that scream. My lack of interference had doomed her.

I decided not to visit this time. Instead, I went upstairs and watched from my bedroom window, out of which I could see the Petersons' kitchen window. I didn't see Jennifer. I felt my suspicions were confirmed, but I didn't want to tip Greg off, so I continued to watch the window for a week to try to build more evidence.

For a week, Greg was gone. Of course, he traveled for his job, but it still felt like a warning sign. I didn't see Jennifer either. So I decided to sneak in for a look.

I knocked loudly and rapidly, hoping and praying that Jennifer would answer. To my absolute shock, she did. She answered the door with a smile on her face.

"So good to see you!" she said, "Won't you come in?"

I stared at her for a few moments, but her smile didn't droop, so I came in. She offered me a beer, and I took it. She didn't ask me to explain, but I did anyway. I told her about the scream.

"Oh, no," she said, grinning more widely, "That's embarrassing. You see, my laugh sounds like a scream. It's kind of funny. Greg would tell you. Sometimes he says the funniest things."

I told her I hadn't seen her for a week.

"Yeah," Jennifer said, "I had a terrible sinus infection, so I spent a lot of time in bed."

I ultimately opted not to tell her about my paranoia, embarrassed as I was. We chatted for a while about mundane things like the weather and a recent football game over our beers. I only had one. Her face eventually lost its luster as she frowned and spoke in a more serious tenor.

"You didn't think he'd done something to me, did you?" she asked.

I looked away, my face no longer just red from the alcohol. I explained my reasoning haltingly.

"Oh, no, no," she said in that cautious but motherly tone, "Greg would never do that. He gets jealous sometimes--really jealous--but he's not a violent person. And he always apologizes after we fight. He's a good husband."

"I'm sorry," I said, "Maybe I watch too much TV. I get a little spooked. It is good to see you, though."

"Absolutely," she said, "I have fun chatting with you."

Shortly afterwards, I left. I felt like a fool. I went to bed early, expecting to sleep like a baby now that the panic was over, but Greg pulling into his driveway woke me up. Soon I heard the two get into another argument. From what I could hear (Greg's voice is inherently loud), they were arguing about me. Jennifer had been right; he seemed to be jealous of any man who interacted with her. I told myself there was nothing to worry about, as I didn't hear any hitting.

That's when I heard Jennifer laugh her scream-like laugh again. Greg must've said something hysterically funny.

After that, all was quiet.