I live next to the neighbor from hell. B-man is about 5/10, slim and dark skinned. He always wears a black kango and one of his old black suits. I can tell they’re so old because of all the wrinkles in it,cand besides that its faded. On the east side of Harlem on 129th Street and Lexington Avenue is where all of his dirty work takes place. On the corner of 125th Street is a big red brown building called MS Houses. That is where we live.

I can think back to about three months ago. Whenever I would come home his door would be cracked open. I could see the inside of it, it was dark like a hole in the ground. I think he would leave his door open to see who was going to and from their apartments. For some reason whenever he would see me or anyone who lived with me he would close the door. I can remember on some occasions when I would go to throw the garbage out I would see B-man. He would throw tomato sauce on peope’s doors. Even if I was in the hallway that wouldn’t stop him from doing it. Just about every door in our long yellow hallway was filled with tomato sauce except for mine.

B-man stopped for a while because people stopped noticing him. And they also stopped talking to him. I think that the only reason that he would do these thing to people is because they spoke to him. Even If it was just s simple hello from a nieghbor a how are you doing? From a passing individual. B-man would always reply with a smirk, “I’m fine. I am doing alright.” Right after that he would attack. So I just never said anything to him. I guess that is why he left us alone. As time went past a new family moved onto our floor. They were a Hispanic father and son. They were B-man’s new victim’s. The father was about the same height as B-man and a little thicker with curly hair.
One afternoon when they were both in the hall way, they got into a big argument about who was making the moist noise in the apartments.»