The dangers of solitude
The neighborhood is a most normal one indeed. Nothing ever happens here. It's truly unimaginable that its mediocrity can ever sow discord, nonetheless bear witness to a crime scene. And yet, just yesterday one just unveiled right in front of our eyes. The unimaginable happened.
This afternoon has been exceptionally noisy. I drove home from work to the screeches of blaring sirens and obnoxious lights coming from next door. It didn't surprise me in the least when I saw my neighbor thrashing in handcuffs, getting hauled away into the police's car. The crowd surrounding him knows not what I know. They only know to speculate and spread rumors. They have yet to know of his nature.
My neighbor stuck out amidst the mediocre neighborhood like a needle among cotton. All societal roles people conformed to, he was against it. A man of his age should already have a family, with his oldest child attending high school. And yet, he's alone as can be. He only moved here for half a year for seemingly no reason at all. No one managed to get any information on him, it was as if he went missing during his twenties and reappeared here. No relatives or friends, he's the enigma in this quiet corner of the world, where nothing ever happens. But what was most incriminating was the irregular intervals in which he arrived home and left. Anyone who paid half their mind would be suspicious. This irregularity which our particular neighbor displayed suggested a more than eccentric lifestyle at best. What business can keep him outside until dawn, what job can demand him to up and leave for weeks at a time? What more, he would hardly make any attempt to fit in with the community, only hardly ever return a greeting wave or smile from me and another woman who lived right next to him. To me, he resembled more of a hermit crab than a criminal. Yet he fits the bill for a stereotypical criminal like a glove. All considered, he is more like a caricature than a person. That should go to show just how little we know about him. But whatever he was up to, he was the perfect crime scape goat, the perfect diversion. Next to him, even the most outright conspicuous criminals would seem like masters of stealth, any anomalies would be normal in comparison to this enigmatic neighbor. It was only a matter of time until someone realizes his nature, the keystone of a perfect crime.
"I swear on my life I'm innocent!" My neighbor howled at the police. I never knew his face can be so expressive. Then he threw a glance at me, begging me to intervene, to do something in face of this injustice. He knows that I know of his innocence. No one else would vouch for him. I shifted to answer.
"I'm so sorry for your inconvenience, you can't imagine what your neighbor here has done. So horrendous, it would put a grown man in tears." The police excused himself and sneered at the suspect with disgust. "You're coming into custody you cold-blooded murderer, we have a lot to catch up to." And with that they drove away, the noise only ceasing a little for the crowd roared up in heated arguments and theories. A wave of relief mixed with disappointment washed over me. No one really knew him.
After this ruckus, the incident's notoriety will grip this place in terror, the town where nothing ever happened will be remembered for this tragedy alone, would anyone even question if a habitant choose to move out some time later due to concern for their own safety, preferably as far as they can? The police was right though, they have a lot of catching up to do. Just not with him.