📖 The Stranger Upstairs
Genre: Mystery / Emotional Drama
Chapter 1: The Knock at Dusk
It was just after sunset when Sara stepped out of the library, the smell of old pages still clinging to her. She didn't know that her ordinary evening walk home was about to take an unexpected turn.
As she reached the corner of her street, a frail voice called out, "Excuse me… young girl."
She turned to see an elderly woman in worn clothes, hunched slightly, her hands trembling as she clutched a cloth bag.
"Can you help me, please?" the old woman asked. "I live just a few blocks away… but I dropped my keys and can't open my door."
Sara hesitated.
She had always been warned not to follow strangers, especially in the city. "I… I'm sorry, I don't know you," she said politely, stepping back.
"Please," the woman said again, her voice softer now, almost broken. "I have no one. I just need someone to hold the door open while I go inside."
Sara looked around. The street was quiet. Something about the woman's eyes—sad, but not dangerous—made her pause.
"…Okay," Sara finally said. "Just for a minute."
---
They walked in silence until they reached a tall, faded apartment building. The woman led her up to the fourth floor, where the hallway smelled of old wood and forgotten memories. She pushed open a weak wooden door.
"Come in," the woman said gently. "Just for a moment."
Sara hesitated at the doorframe, then stepped inside.
The apartment was dim, but neat. A kettle whistled on the stove. Old pictures hung on the walls—black and white photos of a family long gone.
"You remind me of my daughter," the woman said suddenly, her voice cracking.
Sara blinked. "Your daughter?"
"She passed away many years ago. I used to tell her stories right there on that couch." She pointed with a trembling hand. "She always wanted to be a writer. Like you, maybe?"
Sara didn't know what to say. She hadn't told the woman she liked writing.
"How did you know—?"
The old woman just smiled.
"I didn't. But sometimes the right people show up when you need them most."
Sara looked around again. Something about this place felt strangely comforting, like she'd been here before in a dream.
She helped the woman pour tea, sat for a few quiet minutes, then got up to leave.
"Thank you," the old woman said. "Not everyone would have said yes."
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Outside, the street was quiet again. Sara walked home slowly, her heart full of questions.
She didn't know the woman's name. She didn't ask. But something told her she'd remember that visit for the rest of her life.