I was just washing a few dishes and I heard a loud banging coming from the lobby of my block of flats.

I looked through the spyhole and saw a fat young girl of about ten years old kicking the neighbouring door in an attempt to break it down. Oh, she was holding a kitchen knife too... She must only have been about ten or eleven.

I opened my door and asked what the hell she was doing...

A bit of background information... My ex-next door neighbour Lee, moved out of the flat about two months ago. He then sub-let the flat to an 18 year old skank named Stacey. I think she was paying him £10.00 a week rent. I assume the council are still paying Lee's rent because they think:

a) He's still jobless;
b) He still lives there.

Anyway - I hadn't seen anything of Stacey for about two weeks.

So, back to tonight and the little girl with the kitchen knife. I asked her what was going on and she said:

"I need to get inside. It's an emergency."

I asked her, "Do you know Stacey?" and she nodded that she did. I then asked "So where is Stacey?" and she said, "She lost her keys so she can't get in."

I was beginning to get a bit annoyed and exasperated. I then questioned her as to why Stacey hadn't asked Lee to give her a new set of keys. The little girl said, "Because she doesn't want Lee to know that she hasn't been able to get in." I asked "Why?" and the girl said, "Stacey's left her dog and a snake in the flat and they might be dead so you've got to help me open the door."

She'd been attempting the open the door with the knife by ramming it into the door-jam.

I was shocked. I don't think I've seen anything of this Lee person for two months and I definitely hadn't seen that Stacey character coming or going for at least two weeks.

I told the little girl to go home and said that I had Lee's phone number and I'd call him and sort it all out. Of course, I don't have this Lee's phone number - I hardly knew him. I phoned the RSPCA to send an inspector round to break down the door and rescue the dog and the snake.

I don't think I can stand any more stress. I tried to peek through the letterbox but it was pitch black. There was just this really awful smell like horse shit. I'm afraid that the dog and snake are already dead.

Aside from that, I'm worried that there'll be repercussions because I called the RSPCA out.

What was I supposed to do?

Steadwood said:

Well, they said they would but whomever that fat little girl goes telling about my conversation with her, will ultimately put two and two together.

If this Stacey got in trouble with the police, I'd fear for my life. I'm not just saying that. I really would. Her older brothers are currently in Strangeways prison after they murdered their stepfather.

I should have anomynously told the council weeks ago that the flat was being sub-let. I just didn't want it vacant as I thought it'd be worse and attract squatters.

My head is banging.

Will the RSPCA break in immediately in response to a call? They may need police warrant first, but either way they might need more evidence because to prevent abuse of their powers of entry.

Anyway, I doubt that the RSPCA would prosecute someone for 'unintentional' cruelty to animals. If they locked themselves out, any animal death is down to stupidity alone, and not necessarily neglect.

How long do you think she's been locked out? Assuming the dog has no water, it will live no more than a few days, unless it's invented and the toilet seat has been left up. Snakes will live a bit longer.

BinaryJustin said:

Sure it is the dog and snake?

GooeyTheHamster said:

Yeah, maybe the fat girl is fibbing, and in fact the skank is her mah...who hasn't been answering her calls If so, problem solved

Well, I haven't seen or heard anything from the RSPCA inspectors. It's been about 45 minutes now, I think.

There's no curtains or blinds at the windows, which leads me to believe that Stacey has actually done a runner. I don't think I've seen anything of her coming and going for about two weeks. I've tried looking through the windows but it's pitch-black.

The smell coming out of the letterbox really is awful.

I don't know where the fat little girl comes into it. I'm thinking of calling somebody and asking to sleep on their couch tonight.

I think the RSPCA can break into homes if they have reasonable evidence of neglect and the home-owner (in this case the local council) gives them permission. The smell is suspicious enough.

I haven't heard any barking or howling or anything like that. I'm so fucking stupid. I should have told the council about the sub-letting set-up weeks ago.

BinaryJustin said:

Okay my Sunday has been boring but this is really some interesting shit.



I wish you had a web cam. It would be interesting to see this all unfold.

Please keep us informed.


I wonder if it's a body?

...
[Edited 11/28/04 12:02pm]

Justin...It is TIME TO MOVE.

I've been thinking about your situation lately and you got to get outta there....that is if you can. That place is driving you slowly insane. Everything there seems to annoy the hell outta you and make you depressed.

A move would be the best thing. New places, new faces where you don't already know the back story. A fresh new place can you give you a whole new outlook on life.

superspaceboy said:

Good advice Superspaceboy

I know a move is difficult as a task itself but if it's financially feasible you gotta try for it.

For your current situation in hand, a lot depends on how well you know the scumbags on in your block and what sort of relationship you keep with them.

Things sound dire, but contact and keep as many friends as you can informed on the situation.

Try and be tough man Good Luck.

Yeah. I need to get out of here. I invested a lot of time and money in decorating the place though. Honestly, even though the outside of the flats looks like a shit-hole, inside my flat it's quite nice. I've never opened my blinds since I put them up though. I've basically been living in twilight since I moved in here.

I'm going to call the local council offices in the morning.

BinaryJustin said:

Justin, I'll describe to you the last place I lived at, as it might make you feel better...in some ways. The last place I was living at (in London) was quite nice inside, but we had a BIG problem going on with the communal interior (corridors, lifts):

- There were squatters who would break in and sleep on the stairs... and even shit on the landing...I once found what was quite obviously a human turd, - someone had used a Snickers wrapper to wipe their ass and politely placed it ontop of the turd as if an attempt 'hide' it.

- There was a blatant drug dealer who live down the corridor. Everyday we would get chavs, and utterly scagged-up folks entering the building on exodus to his gaff. And at least once a year, for all four years I was living there, his place got raided by the police - I whitnessed this on one occassion...it was well funny, because I was standing by the coppers as they were using a ram on his door, and right beside me was the dealer guy - the cops didn't know what he looked like

- We also had several scag-addicts 'living' throughout the building, including one group in an appartment on my floor. One of the scags would URINATE in the lift, EVERY F*CKING DAY. Throughout those four years, the lifts smelt off both ammonia and bleach - someone would have the dumb idea to literally throw a bucket of bleach on the piss. The lift electrics would ultimate corrode, and so for three weeks of every month the lift would be out of action which was a bitch as I lived on the 5th floor...and when they were working, you'd have to be an expert at 'Twister' to use it without getting piss on your clothes.

- Like you, I had an alcoholic neighbour, although he was living in the basement flat. Once, me, my girlfriend, and my brother (who was living with me) were arriving home after a night out. We get to the lift to go up, and we hear this woman utterly screaming and fighting with someone downstairs. The woman comes up, looking totally beaten, wearing a nighty which is all ripped up, and the totally drunk guy comes after her and starts literally dragging her down the stairs by the hair. She drops her mobile phone on the stairs and then pleads me to help her. At this point, my brother and I are just watching with amazement at all this...my girlfriend is just frozen by the lifts. So, I go down the stairs to get her phone (which is in several pieces), hand it to her, and then turn round to walk back up the stairs. I thought that would make that the limit of my involvement in this domestic....by as I was walking up the stairs, the guy grabs my shoulders and virtually throws me down 14 steps into the opposite door.

What happened after that was just a case of me flipping and teeaching this drunk a lesson in etiquette, but there is a plateau of knockout difficulty with folks depending on how drunk they are and unfortunately everytime I thought I'd calmed him down by whatever means he'd rise for more... until my brother (who is much bigger than me, and was just watching in total amusement) decides to intervene, grab the guy, and throw him down the remaining flight of stairs - this occured in SLOW MOTION for my brother and I...as he was hurtling through the air down the stairs (and conveniently, towards his front door) we were like, "shit, he's gonna die, we'll get the blame." Luckily he landed on his 'ass bone', which from about 6 feet, fucking smarts. Now all this time, apparently the girl was screaming at us not to hurt this guy (who turns out to be her dad), but we only realised this after the fight had finished. Really! Make up your mind lady!

That experience was a major turning point in my decision that I wouldn't miss London that much when I left. Despite it's problems, the place was a necessity for me as it was 5 minutes walk from work, and I was a student that couldn't invest the time, let alone the money to look elsewhere. I put up with a LOT of shit in that place, and I suppose I could have moved if I really wanted to, but up to that fight incident I just took everything in my stride and accepted the down points - that's part of my character, if it doesn't affect my journey there's no need to waste energy changing it...I'm pretty lazy that way.

So I agree with the others, if you 'can' move, then do it because there really is no reason to be lazy unless you really feel you can accept any possible consequences (like I thought I could).

Move honey, PLEASE I didn't have it nearly as bad in my old neighborhood, I just had some bad kids that would terrorize everybody, play ball directly into my house then go on the roof & in the back yard to retrieve the balls walk on our cars in the driveway & kick it on my porch whenever they felt like it - not only did I just not enjoy being @ my own home anymore but I actually avoided going home whenever possible b/c there was always some annoying little thing to deal with, & they were just kids! So I can't imagine what this must be doing to you in terms of your enjoyment of YOUR space. Listen to Taureau - leave that place if you can, the drama is sure to continue unfortunately

BinaryJustin said:

You can move your stuff on the inside to get away from whats on the outside. It's just decor...it might even look lovely in your next flat.

I hope things do get better for you.

stacy!


this is a hellva story....keep us updated.

ps)id more fear the girl with the knife as she prolly rolls with other girls with knifes.

Taureau said:

Cloudbuster said:

Tasted like one aswell

Taureau said:

Now that would have made me laugh out loud. Sorry

mdiver said:

It did me too! I still think it was hilarious. In fact it reminds of one of the subways once in Elephant and Castle, someone quite obviously had the 'shits' and had apparently managed to 'spray' it right up the wall (much like a projectile vomit, but shit, not vomit) and then using something-or-other decided to write 'PEACE' in it.
[Edited 12/1/04 5:11am]

Taureau said:

It would have been even funnier to catch them mid turd.
[Edited 12/1/04 5:22am]

Taureau said:

It's gotten a bit better.

The morning after, in daylight, I had a long good look through the windows. There's nobody there. Nothing there, in fact. There's no evidence of a dog or a snake in there either. There's no blinds or drapes at the windows. No cooker. No fridge. No furniture. It's completely empty.

There was a card folded up and wedged in the door-frame. It was from the RSPCA, so they must have been around to have a look themselves.

I rang the council offices on Monday and the lady told me that Lee (whom Stacey was subletting from) handed in his notice two weeks ago. The council get the keys back next Monday and they're going to strip the flat and clean it up for somebody else to move in.

My guess is that Lee came and took his stuff whilst Stacey was out. He's either got the keys back off her or she's chucked them away in a fit of anger. Don't know where the little girl with the knife comes into it though...

The dealer upstairs has cleaned up the lobby and swept it out. Barry the (ex) burglar from the other upstairs flat has taken everybody's trash out for the refuse men to take away tomorrow. Both Barry and the dealer have been locking the front door behind them so nobody can just wander into the lobby off the street.

I'm feeling very positive again.

bananacologne said:

Stacey did have a dog called Snoop but it went everywhere with her. There was absolutely no sign of Snoop when I looked through the windows nor was there any evidence that he'd even been there on his own. I mean, there was no poop on the floor.

I really don't know who the little girl was. It was really bizarre and filmic. Is "filmic" a word? I don't know.