r/Advice 1 yr.ago
Nightm4re_Butt3rfly
I Think My Neighbor Is Watching Me (And I'm Terrified)
Hey bros, I never thought I'd end up posting something like this, but I'm genuinely freaked out. I need to get this off my chest and see if I'm overreacting, or if anyone else has had an experience like this. I don't know what to do, and honestly, I don't even know if it's safe to be writing this right now.
So, here goes.
A few months ago, I moved into a new apartment building in a quiet suburban area. It's nothing fancy, just a standard one-bedroom place. It was supposed to be a fresh start for me after a pretty rough breakup, and I was excited to finally have my own space. For the most part, things have been fine. The building is small, maybe eight units total, and most of the tenants keep to themselves.
But then, I started noticing something strange.
My neighbor across the hall, a guy I've barely spoken to, started paying… a lot more attention to me than I was comfortable with. We'll call him Dave. He's in his 50s, kind of scruffy, always wearing the same ragged hoodie. The kind of guy who never really makes eye contact but you can feel him watching. At first, it was just a weird feeling I got whenever I passed him in the hallway, but things escalated pretty quickly from there.
It started with the staring.
Every time I left my apartment, I'd feel his eyes on me. Even if I was just going to throw out the trash or grab the mail, he'd be there—standing in the hallway, just watching. He didn't say anything, didn't even smile, just… stared.
You know that feeling you get when someone's looking at you, but you don't want to turn around because you're scared of what you might see? That's exactly what it felt like. After the first few times, I tried to shrug it off. I told myself maybe he was just socially awkward or lonely. No harm, right?
But then, I noticed something even creepier.
Whenever I got home, I'd see his door open just a crack, and behind it, I could make out the faintest outline of someone standing there. I couldn't see his face, but I knew it was him. He was waiting for me to come home.
It got to the point where I started avoiding going out if I could help it. If I absolutely had to leave, I'd sprint back to my apartment as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid that unsettling stare.
Then came the noises.
About two weeks after I started noticing his staring, I began hearing strange sounds coming from his apartment late at night. It started as a faint tapping—like someone drumming their fingers on a hard surface—but it soon escalated into something else.
I'd wake up around 2 or 3 AM to the sound of heavy breathing and muffled voices. The weird thing? I live in an old building, and the walls are thin. I'd never heard a peep from Dave's apartment before, but now, every night, there it was—this low, constant breathing, as if he was standing right on the other side of the wall, inches away from my head.
I tried to block it out, thinking it was my mind playing tricks on me or maybe just the sounds of the building settling, but it was too rhythmic to be that. Too human.
One night, I couldn't take it anymore. I stormed over to his door, banged on it, and yelled for him to knock it off. No answer. The noises stopped after that, but the next morning, I found a single note taped to my door.
"I know what you're doing."
That was it. No explanation, no signature, just that cryptic message.
After that, I became paranoid. I could feel him watching me all the time, even when I couldn't see him. I started closing all my blinds, locking the door multiple times, and checking every window before I went to bed. Still, the feeling persisted.
One night, I got home late after grabbing some drinks with friends. As I unlocked my door, I felt that familiar sensation of being watched. I turned around, and sure enough, there he was—Dave, standing in the hallway, not five feet from me. I hadn't even heard him approach.
"Can I help you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He didn't respond. He just smiled. But it wasn't a normal smile. It was thin, stretched too far, like he'd forgotten how to make the expression and was trying to mimic one he'd seen on someone else's face.
I bolted inside, slammed the door, and locked it. My hands were shaking. I told myself it was time to call the police or the building manager, but I hesitated. What would I even say? He hadn't actually done anything illegal—he was just… creepy.
It got worse.
Last week, I started hearing footsteps outside my apartment late at night. At first, it was just a single set, slow and deliberate, pacing up and down the hallway. But as the nights went on, more footsteps joined in. It sounded like a group of people, walking back and forth, stopping right outside my door before continuing again.
Every night, like clockwork.
The final straw was last night. I woke up around 3 AM to the sound of shuffling. At first, I thought it was the footsteps again, but then I realized it was coming from inside my apartment.
I was too scared to move. I lay there, frozen, listening to the soft creak of the floorboards just outside my bedroom door. I must have drifted in and out of sleep from exhaustion because, when I woke again, it was morning, and my bedroom door was wide open.
Okay, here's where I need to be honest.
When I woke up this morning, I decided to check my building's security cameras, something I should've done a while ago. The landlord's a bit old-school, but he installed a few cameras after a string of break-ins last year. I figured, if Dave was messing with me or breaking into my apartment, there'd be proof.
I went down to the office, asked to see the footage, and sure enough, there was something strange. I saw myself on camera, entering my apartment at various times throughout the day. But then… there were gaps. Hours where I should've been home, but the camera didn't show me leaving.
I must've missed something, right? Maybe I just wasn't paying attention. I scrolled back to last night—around 3 AM—and watched as my front door opened.
And I walked out.
I'm not kidding. I saw myself—clear as day—open the door, look around, and step into the hallway. I was wearing the same clothes I'd gone to bed in. I watched myself walk across the hall, stop in front of Dave's door, and just… stand there.
The footage showed me standing outside his door for almost an hour. Motionless. Staring.
I don't know what's happening. I don't remember any of it. I swear, I haven't been going into the hallway at night. I've never stood outside his door.
But now I wonder… have I been the one watching him?
I don't know what's real anymore. Please help. I'll take any I can get.
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