A take-away for one, and one taken away.

Even before she was taken away, there were periods of calm when the days and nights would pass without any sight of her.
The narrow twisting passageway that leads to the bedsits would be quiet and peaceful for once.
Not a hint of her presence, even the odour of decay that clung to her had all but disappeared.
She could have been dead, rotting away in her room for all we knew or cared.
This place is like that, nobody cares about anybody or anything.
Keep yourself to yourself, head down, low profile, that's the answer.
Just get through another day without any hassle.

Then, as if recharged by some mysterious power source, she was emerge from her hovel spitting like a demented wild cat.
To run down the corridor slamming doors, scratching on the walls.
Hysterical laughter echoing around the landing.
Sobbing or screaming late at night.
Kicking holes in the thin plasterboard walls, bins or anything else that happened to fall at her feet.

I remember the night, Friday, I was coming back from the Red Dragon with my regular order.
Special fried rice, prawn crackers, spare ribs and a six pack.
I should have realised she would be around somewhere.
The smell of urine a give away sign she was close.
I was just about to put the key into the door, when the stupid old cow jumped out from behind the cheap plastic floral display.
Tipping the colourless flowers and plastic grass everywhere, followed by glass pebbles rattling along the bare floor.
Then the lights dim and go out.
The landlords cheap economy push button switches plunging the corridor into a total blackout.
The old crone stands beside me prodding my shoulder ranting.

'You, have been in my room, my room, my room... ' she screeched.

On and on she ranted, I wanted to slap her.
I drop my takeaway and door key on the floor as flecks of spittle land on my face.

'Shut up you old bag...sod off back to your room...or I'll throw out the window ... you...'

Its bedsit 6, two doors down shouting.
Early to bed then up early in the morning and on the road.
He is the only one on the landing with a job.
Motorway maintenance, the probation organised it for him.
The lights flicker back on lighting him up standing near her door.
The witch frothing at the mouth turns her attention to him.

'...It's you then...in my room, trying to get in...to murder me, in my room, in my room...in my room...'

I pick up the spare ribs a half empty box of rice and leg it swiftly into my pit.
Outside my door I can hear her standing on my prawn crackers.

Crunch...crunch...crunch...crunch...

So much for my take-away.
On Monday morning a policewoman along with two other people arrived at the bedsit.
'Social workers' bedsit 8 said.
'What was her name...'? bedsit 12 asked.
'Christ knows...! bedsit 16 replies

Anyway, they took her away.
Its quiet for now, well, at least till some one else moves in.
The landlord has reset the push button light switches, so fingers crossed no more dark nights.
He has promised new carpets as well, plus get the shared toilet working
On my out way the other day to sign on, I paused by the new floral display.
Beside one of the new pots was...a prawn cracker.