Greg lived in a small farming town in Iowa. When he wasn't going to school, he was helping his dad at the family music store. He would help replace padding on Clarinets, tune Guitars. Anything that needed to be done, while his dad tended to customers. Above the music shop, was an apartment.
And in the apartment, there lived an elderly woman named Hilda. Hilda had been living in that same apartment for 45 years. She was 85 now. Hilda had the same routine. Day in, day out. She would get up at seven AM, sharp. Step outisde, in front of the music store, smoke a cigarette. She would then go to the diner across the street, sipping on coffee - and smoking cigarettes - all day, until seven PM.
Two years passed, and Greg was now enrolled in college. He decided to come back to his small hometown, and visit is dad. And maybe help around the music store. When he got there, his dad said:
"Last year, them folk at the diner asked me where Hilda was. They said she hadn't been there for three days, which is odd for Hilda. As you know, she's been doing the same thing for about 45 years. So I went to check on her, walked up the stairs, and knocked on her apartment door. I heard no answer, so i open her apartment door. And this horrible stench knocks the wind outta me. Poor Hilda died in her sleep."
"That's horrible!" Greg exclaimed.
"You're telling me, boy. Now I just used that empty apartment, for storage."
So Greg and his father, went about their day. Greg replacing padding on Clarinets, and his dad tending to customers. Hours later, Greg hears floorborads creaking, up in the abandoned apartment. "Dad, I thought you said no one lived up there anymore!"
"I did. That's just Hilda. She never left."
Greg arched an eyebrow, and then they heard a flushing sound.
"Dad? Didn't you turn off the water, to her apartment?"
"Then how the hell...?" Greg trailed off.
His dad shrugged his shoulders.
The next day, Greg's father hands Greg 6 Clarinets. "I need you to take these here Clarinets', and put 'em on a table in Hilda's room."
"Ah hell no!" Greg cried, arms cradling the 6 Clarinets.
"Just do it."
"Eh, why don't you show me where?"
"Just go up them stairs, open the door, take a left."
"I'm not that smart though..."
"Just do it. What're you, a pussy?"
Greg mumbled to himself, as he walked up the stairs. He threwopen Hilda's door, which just had to creak as it did so. He quickly spun around, and went into the apartment.
He glanced around, at the bare apartment.
He heard the floorboards creak. In front of him, and he was the only one upstairs. He threw the Clarinets, and screamed like a girl as he sprinted down the stairs. He goes into his dad's music shop, and his dad is laughing his ass off.
"Might wanna check your britches!" his dad laughed.