As soon as my neighbor, Shirley Lambert, walked past my house and peeked inside, her eyes lit up.

"Mrs. Fisher, this place is huge. It has great lighting too. It'd make the perfect playroom for my son.

"You live alone anyway. Just move into our living room. A two-bedroom apartment has more than enough space.

"Since we're neighbors, I'll let you stay for free. No rent."

I felt so irritated that I nearly gagged.

She actually shoved past me into the house and started pointing around like she owned the place.

"This crappy couch has to go. The living room would feel way bigger without it.

"Oh, and the whole floor needs carpeting. That'd make it safe for my son when he runs around.

"Also, why don't you have an air-conditioner? What if my precious boy gets a heat stroke? Could you even afford his medical bills?"

She suddenly turned around and glared at me.

"Mrs. Fisher, I'm talking to you. Are you deaf? Haven't you got any manners?"

Anyone who didn't know better would've thought I was her servant and not her neighbor.

I snorted. Clearly, she had no idea about my reputation as the neighborhood menace.

"Well, I see you've got plenty of money, and I've got deep pockets. Why don't you hand all your cash over to me for keeping?

"And if you like other people's houses so much, I'll write that for you in my letter to Santa this Christmas!"

The air felt still for several seconds.

Shirley Lambert shrieked, "What's wrong with you, old lady? Why are you cursing at me out of nowhere? I was just trying to look out for you since you're old and living alone, and this is how you repay my kindness?"

I, Nancy Fisher, quietly watched her performance.

It was plain as day what she was up to.

She just thought an old woman living alone would be easy to take advantage of.

I couldn't be bothered to say anything. I pointed straight at the door.

"Get out."

Seeing I wasn't backing down, Shirley looked ready to keep causing a scene until she spotted the knife I'd grabbed from the kitchen. She immediately panicked.

"W-What are you doing with that knife?

"Are you crazy? Think about it. You're old and all alone. Someday you're going to need young people like us to help you.

"A good neighbor is a present help. If you let my son use this place as his playroom, wouldn't he be just like your grandson?

"With the addition of a grandson, you'll have more support later in life. You old fool, how can you not understand this?"

I raised the knife and swung it once through the air. "If you don't leave right now, believe me, I'll chop you to pieces."

Shirley stepped backward again and again until she finally retreated outside.

I slammed the door shut.

Her shrill, annoying voice was finally cut off.

I'd lived in this apartment for two years, and the neighbors next door changed as often as the seasons.

I'd seen every kind of lunatic imaginable, including the creepy exhibitionist guy, the schizophrenic teenage girl, and the fitness trainer who brought home different muscular men every night.

In the beginning, I figured a divorced woman raising a child alone probably had it rough, so I tried to be patient and kept things peaceful.

I never expected her to take advantage of people like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Everything she said was appalling, and she had absolutely no concept of basic decency. Honestly, I'd never met anyone like her before.

The mother and son had only moved in a week ago.

Ever since then, the hallway had reeked of sour, rotten funk.

Shirley always looked polished and put together, but the second their apartment door opened, the smell hit like a truck.

I honestly wondered if they'd dragged an entire landfill into their home.

Her eight-year-old son, Mike Lambert, was even worse. He was a classic wild child.

He ran around all day waving his toy sword and yelling about killing people.

There was once he suddenly jabbed me in the waist with it while I was out in the park. The pain made me gasp.

Shirley actually looked proud.

"Mike, that's amazing! One shot right to Mrs. Fisher's waist! You have such a good aim!"

Judging by her expression, if she hadn't been carrying his schoolbag, she probably would've started applauding on the spot.

She turned to look at me without the slightest sign of remorse in her eyes. All I saw was a smug smile.

"Mrs. Fisher, my son's talented, isn't he? Even his fencing instructor says he's gifted."

I snatched the toy sword right out of Mike's hand.

I broke it clean in half and threw the pieces at Shirley's face.

"Hey, brat! Tell me, aren't I talented?"

Both Shirley and Mike froze on the spot.

Mike then burst into tears.

Shirley's expression darkened instantly. "Apologize to my son! And pay for that sword! Right now!"

I turned around and walked away.

Honestly, I could've just dropped to the ground and accused them of attempted assault. They should've packed it in and counted their lucky stars.

How dare she still expect me to apologize?

That was not happening.

I figured after the last incident, things between us were already beyond repair.

Shirley was more thick-skinned than I thought. She acted like nothing had happened and kept shamelessly trying to cozy up to me.

What I didn't expect was that things were about to get even worse.

Early the next morning, I woke up to a disgusting smell of rot and sour decay.

Frowning, I searched the apartment until I ended up standing at the front door.

The smell seemed to be coming from outside.

The second I opened the door, the stench nearly knocked me unconscious. I immediately covered my nose.

Four green garbage bins were piled outside my door.

One was filled with moldy grains clumped into solid chunks and covered in colorful fuzz.

Another contained pale gray meat of some kind, and it was crawling with fat white maggots.

I instantly felt nauseous.

The third was stuffed with rotten vegetables, shriveled corn, and mold-covered sweet potatoes.

The last one was the absolute worst. Rotting fish and shrimp overflowed from the top while swarms of flies buzzed around it.

I couldn't hold it in anymore and gagged against the wall.

What the hell was Shirley up to this time? Why was she saving up garbage for days without throwing it away?

She'd secretly piled all of it outside my door too. Was she expecting me to take it out for her?

Fine. If she wanted to leave it at my doorstep, then she couldn't blame me for what happened next.

I raised my foot and kicked the bins over one by one.

Clang!

The moldy grains, maggot-covered meat, rotten vegetables, decaying fish and shrimp, and black foul-smelling sludge at the bottom spilled everywhere. Some of it even splattered onto the door across my unit.

Another wave of stench hit instantly.

I couldn't possibly stay at home after that, so I headed out for breakfast instead.

I'd barely taken two mouthfuls of oatmeal when my phone started vibrating nonstop.

The residents' group chat was filled with messages.

Unit 202's tenant was Shirley.

Unit 202 sent the first message.

[Who kicked over the food outside my door? Own up to it now. That was my family's food supply for the coming month.]

Food supply?

The moment I recalled the disgusting smell and those squirming maggots, my appetite disappeared completely.

Had Shirley lost her mind?

Was she eating food out of the trash?

The messages kept coming.

[If nobody admits it within thirty minutes, every resident in the building will split the damages. Each household owes me 100 dollars!]

[Also, whichever apartment pays last has to hire cleaners to scrub my doorway. @Everyone]

The group chat went wild instantly.

Unit 502 wrote in.

[@Unit 202 Have you completely lost your mind? Are you trying to scam money out of other tenants now?]

Unit 902 chimed in.

[Since there are security cameras, check the footage. If that's not available, call property management. Why are you acting crazy in the group chat? @Unit 202]

Right after that, Shirley spammed several sixty-second voice messages.

I didn't even need to play them to know they were probably packed with profanity and screeching.

Suddenly, Unit 101's tenant, the guy who lived downstairs, suddenly joined the conversation.

[Who else could it be? Your neighbor is Unit 201. It's definitely that old lady! We all use the elevator. Who takes the stairs for no reason? @Unit 201, get in here already. Don't make the rest of us take the blame.]

Unit 101 belonged to a nearly forty-year-old single man who used to constantly report me to property management for making too much noise and disturbing his rest.

Even when I wasn't home, he'd still file complaints. It was like his life's purpose.

After I pulled a knife on him one time and threatened to chop him up, he never complained again.

Later, I heard it was because he had a crush on one of the new male employees in the property management office.

Once he started accusing me, everyone else in the group piled on and began tagging me too.

I slowly typed out a response.

[Meat covered in maggots, rotting fish and shrimp, and moldy grains? Sorry, I thought it was all garbage.]

Shirley replied instantly.

[Old hag, what kind of nonsense are you spewing? Those were premium proteins and organic ingredients! If you're that ignorant, then you should just keep your mouth shut! You ruined our family's food supply for an entire month. Pay me one thousand immediately or I'm not letting this go!]

She really had gone insane over money.

I replied.

[I see you really are broke enough to start treating trash like treasure, and now you're using the homeowners' group chat like it's a wishing well.]

After sending that, I tossed my phone aside and ignored her furious meltdown in the chat.

Once I finished the last spoonful of oatmeal, I suddenly found the whole thing amusing.

Since she was demanding a thousand dollars in compensation, then I ought to be generous as the older person.

I'd give her an even bigger gift.

I headed to the biggest wet market nearby.

While buying rubber gloves, I also made sure to pick up several thick black garbage bags.

After putting the gloves on, I carefully began selecting items beside the dumpsters.

There was rotten meat crawling with maggots, cracked rotten eggs that could only be scooped out from the bottom of trash bins, and slimy blackened vegetable leaves that left sticky residue all over my hands.

Before long, several heavy, foul-smelling plastic bags were filled to the brim.

Carrying my generous gift, I happily headed home.

The moment I stepped out of the elevator, something felt off. I detected a hint of feces mixed with the rotten stench.

When I reached my door, I was even more stunned.

Someone had splashed feces and urine all over my door. Yellow liquid dripped slowly down the surface.

The four garbage bins were gone, and now the smell of human waste mixed with rotting food turned into something beyond disgusting.

Shirley was absolutely vile.

Just as I pulled out my phone to make a call, the door to Unit 202 suddenly opened.

Shirley stepped out with a plastic basin in her hand. She looked surprised for a split second when she saw me. She then immediately smirked with satisfaction.

I noticed the basin no longer contained urine and feces. It was full of bloody water from something unidentifiable.

Judging from the way she held it, she was about to dump it at my door too.

"Back already, Mrs. Fisher? Your doorway had too much bad energy, so I used my son's poop and pee to cleanse it for you. No need to thank me.

"Oh, and you still owe me one thousand. Give it to me now."

At this point, she wasn't even hiding the fact she was extorting money anymore.

I smiled and spoke into the phone that had just connected.

"Officer, please tell me if this is fair. I'm just an old woman living alone. My neighbor is dumping human waste at my door and trying to extort money from me. She's taking advantage of me because I'm old and alone, isn't she?"