Few months back we moved to our new flat. I still remember that day as if it was yesterday.

It was my 2nd day in that flat.

I was chilling on the bean bag in my room with an unfinished "The Notebook" in one hand and a mug of coffee in another.

I looked up from my novel to admire the scenery before me. The sky was ablaze with fire of the setting sun. The trees looked like strong, black soldiers standing in an unmoving row.

I had chosen this particular room due to the attached balcony and the ravishing view from here.

A few pages into the book, I heard some noise from above my head. Probably, the upper flat residents. I ignored it and continued my novel.

But then the noise became louder. I could now decipher the song, it was some 'Eminem Rap' my brother had forced me to listen, the day before. I'm not really a great fan of rap songs. So the noise was irritating me.

The noise became even louder.

This guy/girl was trying my patience now.

I got up from my seat and went to the balcony and shouted "Hey! Lower down the volume. You are disturbing the neighbours."

But nobody replied rather the noise increased.

Now it was getting beyond limits.

I marched into my room, tore a paper from my rough notebook and wrote,

"PLEASE STOP MAKING NOISE. IT IS DISTURBING THE NEIGHBOURS."

Picked up a smiley stress ball, wrapped it in the paper and threw it to the balcony upstairs. I did a little happy dance when the ball successfully landed there.

The noise then stopped.

I smirked in victory and went back to my room. As soon as I seated myself on the bean bag, the same ball fell back into my balcony. But this time with a yellow sticky note on it.

I quickly went and picked up the ball to see the note. It read

"IT'S NOT NOISE. IT'S CALLED MUSIC."

This irked me. I grabbed another sheet, wrote

"WELL, THEN YOUR TASTE IN MUSIC SUCKS."

And lobbed it back.

Few seconds later the ball fell with another sticky note saying,

"ATLEAST IT'S BETTER THAN YOUR HOPELESS ROMANTIC NOVELS."

What! How does this person know that I like romantic books?

Beads of sweat stood out on my forehead.

Was this some stalker? Or a serial killer?

Oh My Holy Son of the Wind God!

What if it's a ghost!?

No no no no. Shit! I'm too young to die.

Okay. Calm down. I took deep breaths and with trembling hands wrote,

"HOW DO YOU KNOW I LIKE ROMANTIC BOOKS? ARE YOU A STALKER?"

And threw it up.

No reply came. With every passing minute my heartbeat increased.

A few moments later the ball fell with a note,

"GEEZ. I DON'T STALK HOPELESS ROMANTICS. AND UMM...I KIND OF MIGHT HAVE LISTENED TO YOUR CONVO WITH, I SUPPOSE, YOUR BROTHER, LAST NIGHT."

I sighed in relief.

But wait. He listened to me & my brother's conversation. This is so uncivil.

"WHAT!? YOU EAVESDROPPED ON ME. SO GENTLEMAN-LY. HUH?

PS- I'M NOT A HOPELESS ROMANTIC. I ONLY LIKE THE ROMANCE GENRE"

To which came a response,

"NO. I DIDN'T. YOU WERE TALKING SO LOUDLY THAT THE WHOLE LOCALITY MUST HAVE HEARD IT. BTW, HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT I'M A GUY? NOW WHO'S A STALKER??

PS- YOU MEAN THE CLICHÉD ROMANCES WHERE THE GUY & THE GIRL ALWAYS HAVE A 'HAPPILY EVER AFTER'. LOL. SO ORIGINAL! "

I then replied,

"IDK. JUST A GUT INSTINCT. (Plus your handwriting is also messy).

WELL, ARE YOU?

PS- WHATEVER "

An answer came back instantly,

"YES, I AM.

PS- IT'S NOT WHATEVER. IT'S UNREALISTIC. "

I didn't know what to say so I wrote,

"HMM.

PS- NO COMMENTS"

To which he retorted,

"IT MEANS YOU AGREE THAT THEY ARE UNREAL. HAHAH! "

I do agree that those romance books which I read are unrealistic and not every real life love story has 'a happy ending.' Perhaps who can know this better than me?

But I wasn't going to give this guy the pleasure by agreeing to his point. So I chose not to reply anything.

I went back to my room and laid on my bed. Thinking about that certain someone who once promised to accept me as I am. Who once promised to love me the way I am. Who once promised to stay by me forever.

But broke all those promises and left me shattered and wounded.

I was pulled out of my trance of thought by a 'thump' sound from the balcony.

I quickly ran there to find a football with a similar note attached to it. It said,

"HEY! SORRY, IF I SAID ANYTHING TO HURT YOU. IT WASN'T INTENTIONAL AT ALL.

BTW, MY NAME IS MANIK. YOURS?

PS- I DON'T THINK THE FOOTBALL WILL BE ABLE TO REACH MY BALCONY. SO JUST KEEP IT WITH YOU. I'LL COLLECT IT SOME OTHER DAY. "

I quickly tore a paper and wrote,

"IT'S OKAY. WHAT YOU SAID WAS PROBABLY RIGHT.

MY NAME'S NANDINI.

PS- OKAY. FINE. YOU CAN ALSO KEEP THIS BALL FOR NOW"

Wrapped it around the smiley ball and threw it upwards.

Instantly a crumpled paper fell on my head. I unwrapped it and read,

"YEAH. OKAY.

BYE. TAKE CARE. "

Idk why. But that simple 'Take Care' aroused a familiar feeling in my chest. A kind of feeling which I was afraid to experience again. I tried not to think more about it and went to the living room.

Rest of the evening and the next few days passed in a blur with unboxing cartons, arranging furniture, etc.

ONE WEEK LATER!

It was late in the afternoon. I was sitting on my bed, doing my assignments. But I couldn't concentrate on the questions all I could think of was the neighbour upstairs aka the noisy guy aka Sachit. I looked beside me to see the football still there at the corner of my room.

There had been no noise for last few days. And Manik had also not come to take his football. So I decided to myself, go and give it back to him.

I jumped off my bed, grabbed the football and strode towards the upper flat.

Upon reaching their I knocked on the door. But no one answered. I banged my fist a few times on the wood but it was in vain. Nobody still replied.

Meanwhile, the next-door neighbour opened their door. It was an old lady. She asked me,

"Are you new here?"

I said "Yes, I am."

"Why are you thumping on that door? Nobody lives there. It has been empty for past one year. The owner and his wife moved to Bangalore last year after Manik's, their son's death."

My blood ran cold as she finished her sentence.

Manik is Dead? So who was playing the music that day, who was replying to my notes. Oh god!

With quivering lips I asked her,

"How's that even possible? I heard noises coming from their balcony a few days back. And this. This football is Manik's." I showed her the football in my hand.

The lady stared at me as if I had grown another head. And said,

"Kid. Don't play a prank on me. Go back to your home. No one lives in that house."

And then she shut her door.

I stood there numb staring at the wooden door in front of me. Suddenly, I felt cold and as if I got my senses back, I quickly turned on my heels and started walking towards the lift, when I heard the door behind me open.

I froze on my spot.

My mind was screaming 'Don't turn back. Just enter the lift and go to your house.'

But my heart said otherwise.

I slowly turned back, to find the door open but nobody was standing there. Only my smiley ball was lying at the entrance with a yellow sticky note on it. With heavy steps I went closer to it.

I stooped down to pick up the ball.

As I stood up, my eyes met with a pair of brown eyes. Those were not some normal brown eyes, they were dark and captivating. His jet black hair contrasting to his pale skin. A small smile dancing on his perfectly arched lips.

He was beautiful.

But he was dead.

He stretched his arms to take the football from my hands. His fingers felt cold against my own skin yet a warm sensation spread through my body.

He took the football. And...

BOOM!

There was a loud noise behind me. I spun back to see the source of the sound but found nothing. I turned to my front to come face to face with the closed wooden door from earlier.

He disappeared.

He was not there anymore.

But the smiley ball with the yellow sticky note was still in my hands. That means everything was real.

I wasn't hallucinating.

He was here.

But he wasn't alive.

Present Day

I got to know from the other neighbours that he had committed suicide coz he felt unworthy of living and some other reasons which his family never disclosed.

I didn't tell anyone else about this incident because I feared that people might think that I've gone crazy. I still have all his sticky notes including his last note which said,

"YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL THE WAY YOU ARE.

DON'T BELITTLE YOURSELF FOR SOMEONE ELSE'S MISTAKE. "

Love,

Manik <3

I never saw him again after that day. Neither do I hear any sounds from the upstairs flat.

But every night when I go to bed, I feel someone enter my room through the balcony and kiss my forehead and whisper "You are beautiful, Nandini. You are beautiful." before I drown into a deep slumber.

So how was it?

I am new with ManAn and I didn't get much idea so thought of writing an OS only. Please bare with mistakes if found any.

Suggestions are welcomed. Please introduce this os with your friends and please, vote and comment if you like it.

P.s: I only require 3 more followers on my profile to complete my August Goal. So please let it be completed.

See ya!